What An Old Heart Wants (L.s)

Chapter 4 The Meeting Pt. 2

Harry's Pov

"Look. There's a motorcycle pulling up now," Niall pointed out to us while taking his phone out too. "Already, Twitter is going crazy of fans and the media with the thought and mention of Louis out in the open after so long."

What he said made all of us turn in our seats to the windows where he was looking out of and where he had pointed. And sure enough, there were many paps now surrounding Nando's as a motorcycle pulled up to park next to the sidewalk.

I didn't catch a good glance at the figure sitting upon the sleek black motorcycle because they were immediately swarmed by the paps as soon as they moved to take off their helmet. The yelling only got much, much louder to the point of deafening.

"That's Louis, alright," Liam muttered as we watched the commotion of the flashing cameras and the paps yelling and shouting.

Sure enough, they were yelling out one name. Louis.

"Wow. He really decided to show his face," Simon said with irritation in his voice while he sat back with a huff. "I'm surprised especially with how he barely chose to say anything over the phone."

I barely had enough energy to turn and glare at Simon so instead I rolled my eyes and kept watching the windows where the paps still swarmed. It also made me happy how everyone chose to ignore Simon's comment and even out of the corner of my eye, James made a look too which gave me satisfaction that he was on our side.

"Lucky then, aren't ya?" Niall chose to say, saying the words low but loud enough for Simon to hear. The words made him huff and I couldn't help but to chuckle.

"Something funny, Styles?" Simon questioned, a hard irritated tone in his voice.

I didn't move an inch. "You are lucky, he's showing his face. I'd be careful then, because Louis certainly always has something to say and its never gonna be pretty with you, Simon."

Simon was smart and chose not to bite back. I guess he didn't want us running away when he is just getting us all to sit down when our schedules are clear.

But he really doesn't know.

The figure was in all black and I still couldn't catch a glimpse at his face as he made it to the door unscathed. But it was also weird because the paps kept a good distance from him. It did, though, give me relief to know that Louis wasn't going to be attacked by the paps.

As he opened the door, the first thing I caught was the heavy smell of cigarette smoke and a hint of alcohol intertwining into the air. His silhouette came slowly but purposely until he was close enough to our table to slip down his hood that covered his face.

I could tell everyone felt the shock in the air and it hit me hard in the gut.

Louis's face was drawn in and set grimly and hard. His skin was too pale, almost to the point it looked gray and worn. His eyes, of what used to be a bright and deep oceanous color, were a dark grey and sullen, holding a deep rage of dark emotions I couldn't pin out. His clothes hung to him like there was nothing to cling to. The cigarette smoke was coming from an actual lit up cigarette he had hanging by his teeth.

All I could see were red flags painted across his face, his expression, his stance, everything. He didn't want to be here but he chose to come.

Worry hit me hard in the face.

This wasn't Louis at all.

Nobody spoke or even dared to move as Louis pulled a chair out and far from us to where he was in the middle between me and Simon, the only seat left.