- PART SEVENTEEN -

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.: PART SEVENTEEN :.

When Louis awoke the next morning, he felt a cold breeze brush against his arm, filtering from the ceiling air vent. He tugged his blanket up to his chin and shivered. Goosebumps peppered his skin as his arm hair stood on end. He reached over, expecting to feel the warmth of Harry's flesh, but instead found empty sheets. 

    Louis made a noise of confusion in the back of his throat as he blinked, clearing his blurred vision. He rubbed his eyes with his knuckles, yawning. Harry was gone. He no longer felt strong arms around his waist, a beating heart beneath his cheek. Louis glanced around his dorm room tiredly. 

    He thought back to the night before, how Harry coaxed him to sleep and whispered calming words into his ear. How he soothed his nerves and calmed his raging anxiety.  W hen Harry spoke, his voice seemed to block out the loud sirens that rattled his brain. As if Harry's voice was the only thing in the world that mattered.

    He glimpsed at his alarm clock. It was eight o'clock in the morning.  Louis grumbled with annoyance because, well, he had a mathematics lecture at ten. 

    Suddenly, he noticed a small piece of paper on his nightstand. He picked it up and narrowed his eyes, squinting at the familiar handwriting.

    Louis,

    Went to my literature class. Didn't want to wake you up. Ring me if you need anything. Have a nice day!

     - H

    He scribbled his phone number at the bottom. Louis felt warmth blossom in his chest, spreading in his veins. He liked the idea of someone taking care of him. And it's not that he was selfish or needy or unable to fend for himself, but it was just... nice. Comforting. Especially since it was Harry.

    Despite spending five years apart, they already fell back into old habits. They both missed this immensely, more than words can describe. They felt drawn to each other like opposite poles, charged with love and longing and a hunger for friendship (or maybe even more than that). Because truthfully, they both missed each other, plain and simple. They missed their everyday chats and comforting smiles and late-night conversations, sneaking out at night for weekday sleepovers.

But it still wasn't it still wasn't the same. Some tension hung between them, built up over time, and neither of them wanted to rush into something too quickly. They needed time to get to know each other again. Time to heal. Time to rekindle what they once cherished so dearly, like a fire that has been ripped away by the wind, leaving nothing but embers of hope.

    Eventually, Louis mustered up enough courage to climb out of bed. He quickly threw on clean clothes, sticking with some black skinnies and his favorite hoodie. Before he departed for his class, however, he found his orange vial of anxiety pills that he kept hidden in a drawer. He swallowed two capsules dry and left.

❀❀❀is

    Later that evening, Louis walked across the hall to visit Harry. He had a long and exhausting day of lectures, tests, and endless notes. He wanted some company, and frankly, Zayn was too busy writing an English report to engage in any real conversation. 

    Plus, he wanted to thank Harry for helping him out the night before. He couldn't stop thinking about the way he handled that panic attack with calmness and sincerity. He knew exactly what to say and how to act. He kept him safe. He was, truly, a knight in shining armor.

    Louis stood in front of his dorm nervously, palms sweating as he raised his hand to knock. He tapped on the door three times and waited patiently, rocked back on his heels. He heard rustling inside the room followed by a distant, "Just a second!"

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