A Second Chance - A Larry Stylinson Fanfiction

Chapter 17

So if you guys think you know what Harry was going to say to Louis the night of the concert, message me your guess and let me know if you want me to tell you if you're right or not.

And, again, sorry for the delay. Summer is always the hardest times for me to update because I don't actually have a room of my own for the summer and I have to spend a lot of time with my family which makes writing extremely hard. Enough excuses, here is the chapter.

Enjoy(:

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Chapter 17

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I need a break.

For the past week, whenever I'm not in class, at rehearsal, or sleeping, I'm with Eleanor, Harry, or prepping for opening night. Ever since Harry and I made up, we've spent the most time yet working on bringing back a bit - any bit - of his memory. I show him the presents he's given me over the years, the things we've won together, the photos of both of us or just him. Harry tries harder now than ever before to remember and I get the slight feeling that it might be because he's afraid of disappointing me to the point that I'll abandon him again. Every day I come back to my room after rehearsal, he's ready for whatever I have to throw at him, meeting each task head on even though they always end in sour moods and a boy no closer to remembering his old life than he had been the day he woke up from his coma.

I've spent every evening with Eleanor, praising my girlfriend like she deserves. At the beginning of the week, I told her that I want nothing more to do with her little feud with Harry and she's agreed to be nicer so long as he does the same. She may not understand why, but she accepts that I have to spend much of my time with Harry and I greatly appreciate her leniency.

But after a while of constantly worrying about every fucking thing, one needs to drop everything and take a breather for five fucking minutes.

So as soon as rehearsal lets out, I go straight to my dorm, audibly sighing when I see that Harry and Zayn have yet to get here. I immediately scrounge through Zayn's things, not currently caring about the mess I'm making until I come upon the two things I direly need and stick them in my jacket pocket before retreating from the room and heading back outside.

My breath fogs in front of me in the cold air and I take a few strides from the door to the dorms before leaning up against the brick wall and pulling the items out of my pocket. I slip a cigarette between my lips then flick on the lighter and light up, coughing on my first inhale as I've done the other three times I've tried smoking.

There must be some sort of release that I'm in desperate need of if people do this habit so much, so I wait for the calm to come and settle on my bones, watching students run to the buildings to get out of the cold that I welcome to clear my head. I watch as a particular girl with long black hair walks across the lawn just as a major gust of wind comes through and takes with it her dozens of papers, scattering them all over the damp grass. She needs a break as well.

Just as I finally begin to feel the release smoking brings and I let my eyes slip shut, I'm pulled back to reality by a harsh voice demanding, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

I reluctantly open my eyes and peer over at the doorway to the dorms to see Harry standing there with a gloved hand holding the door open. When he realizes I've caught sight of him, he drops the door and stomps over to me with his hands in his pockets and the collar of his jacket popped to protect himself from the cold. "Louis, you don't smoke."

I inhale deeply then pull the fag from my lips, letting the breath go as I slowly twirl the cigarette between my fingers. "Maybe not. But I am right now."