Twelve

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A/N: Thank you for your patience! Everything is back on track again, so expect chapter thirteen to be up on the 30th. In this chapter, we bring back the pining. We hope you enjoy it and feedback is greatly appreciated, as always x


The sleeping bag became significantly more spacious in the morning. Louis kept running his hand through the emptiness, curling his fingers into it. The cold soon washed upon him and he draped himself in any garments he could lay his hands on.

He peered out between the tent flaps, towards Nick and Niall's hideout. Part of him expected Harry to emerge, bundled in cheap new clothing. But no one's head reared in the zipped opening.

Louis ventured out. Winds had dusted the bonfire white and battered it to a heap of blackened branches. He kicked at an ice slide curling over one of the logs and cursed under his breath when it didn't give away. Someone had forgotten a blanket there, so he shook it clean and folded it to a cushion.

Once he got a fire going, he stared at the orange dancing before his eyes. His frostbitten cheeks glowed in the broken halo of winter, in shame and insecurity. He found himself spying around the camp site, searching for a crown of unruly brown hair to run into his arms.

For a moment he wondered if Harry was in a snow mound somewhere, cold and alone like Louis felt. He wanted to hold Harry in his arms and make sure the night before was something real. If it weren't for the lingering feeling of Harry's touch, he thought he almost imagined it.

Turning again, he saw one of the tents spit out Anna. She weighed her options by the entrance, arms crossed over her chest, before relenting. Cautious steps brought them closer until she reached the log. Louis met her gaze.

"I didn't know," she said.

"Me neither."

She swayed for another moment. Accepting his wordless permission, she sat down on the blanket he had prepared. She watched him as he examined the grounds in restless exploration. He huffed out a sigh and curled in on himself, threw a final glance to the tents.

"He's not with Nick," Anna said.

Louis nodded.

"I know," she continued, "Because I could barely sleep. I've been up since long before dawn. Zayn's still deep under."

"He can sleep through anything, can't he?"

Anna smiled half-heartedly. She turned her attention to the fire.

"It's soothing," she said.

Louis hummed.

They watched the fickle light in silence, content just sitting together.

Louis hated being alone. And even though Anna wasn't Harry and didn't soothe him like Harry's presence would have, Louis was grateful. Growing up in a noisy house made it impossible for him to be in complete silence. It was part of the reason he always had a roommate.

Crunching boots alerted Louis of another presence. He looked over his shoulder just as Niall crested the edge of the campsite. Louis unfolded a chair for him so Niall had a place to sit.

"Harry's by the lake," he said. "He's... He's upset."

Louis glanced at him. "Why?"

"He didn't want to hurt you, Louis," Niall said. "I know he's difficult, or that he can't always express what's up, but he cares."

Louis could tell there was more to it, but he didn't push.

"He slept with Nick."

"And he feels bad about it. I saw him. Believe me. He made a mistake, but that doesn't mean there aren't any feelings there. Seems like last night went all right?"

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