In Too Deep (Dancing With The Shadows)

fourteen

He shouldn't feel so upset over it. It's Harry's holiday for Christ's sake, he shouldn't be running around after Louis. Louis should be the one accepting Harry's wishes. 

So why does it hurt so much? Knowing Harry is evidently ignoring him? 

He went to ask him if he wanted to go to the pool earlier on, saw Harry in the window watering one of the cacti in its glass bottle vase. Louis had smiled at him gleefully, like he does every time he sees the boy. But Harry quickly fled the window, and when Louis knocked on the door, he didn't make an effort to tell him he was busy. 

He saw him yesterday as well, taking a stroll through the vegetable garden, and when Louis called out to him, Harry ducked his head down, as if it would prevent Louis from seeing him, and quickly walked back toward his cottage, the door slamming loudly, causing Clifford to bark.

Louis controls his breathing to stop him from spilling over with tears. The lump at the back of his throat an indicator that, yeah, he's close to sobbing. He stares at a spot on the kitchen table, zoning out of this world and into the world that lives on in his head. He can hear Mabel humming along to the song coming through the radio, but doesn't take in much of what is said. 

Jamie comes in at some point with Clifford who goes to Louis and licks his hands, tail swishing, but Louis simply ignores. Jamie steals an iced bun from the tray, chatting and laughing with Mabel, before he looks to Louis. 

"What's up with him?" Jamie asks through a mouthful of sticky bun. 

Mabel sighs. "He's having withdrawal symptoms from Harry," she replies, looking toward Louis, but he still doesn't take anything in. 

Jamie snorts. "Poor lad, got himself a celeb crush."

"I think it might be more than that, I fear," Mabel points out. 

Jamie simply nods, dusting off the crumbs from his slightly muddy hands. "I think you might be right, there," he jokes, patting Mabel on the shoulder and ruffles Louis' hair. 

Louis doesn't bite at it like he normally would, just continues nibbling at his fingernail that's wedged between his teeth.

A few moments later, Mabel is swatting him with the end of her tea towel, causing him to flinch.

"I don't want you moping in my kitchen, Louis, it's making it very difficult to cook hearty food," she announces, grabbing his cheeks with one hand so he has to look at her.

He lazily trails his eyes from the spot on the table, looking into her eyes. "Why does he hate me?" he all but whispers sadly.

Mabel rolls her eyes, grunts a little. "It's not that deep, Louis. He probably wants some time alone to relax. And besides, why wouldn't he hate you?" she says with a grin.

Louis makes a noise at the back of his throat, it's high, defeated, and Mabel's lips thin toward him. She sits down in the chair opposite him, holding his hands in hers and giving them a pat. 

"Now, you listen to me, Louis William Tomlinson," she begins. "That boy across the road might not see what you have to offer, but I can tell you now, that he isn't someone that you should cry over. He's just another celebrity, majority of them are arseholes and stuck in their own privilege arses. If he keeps leading you on, then he isn't worth it."

"But he's Harry, and Harry isn't like that," Louis says determinedly. 

But how much of the real Harry does he know? He could be just painting on an image to keep himself safe, he's probably an arsehole like Mabel said, but pretending to be a nice person to keep his image alive.