Lights (2013)

9

I sit across the table from Louis at breakfast, my expression carefully guarded. I stir my spoon in my cereal absentmindedly. Flashes from the night before continue to enter my mind. Harry's blazing forest eyes; his hands on me as he touched his lips to mine; the sheer anger in Louis' eyes when he caught us.

"I should've punched him," Louis mumbles, breaking the ice.

I snap my head up. I stare at him, not speaking.

"You know what I found out while you were exchanging saliva with that prick? He's fucking Jane again," he spits. "He's got so many girls, Blair, and I won't let you be one of them."

I'm still silent.

Louis looks me in the eye. "You won't see him again, will you?"

"He's my--"

"Don't even fucking go there," Louis snaps. "From what I saw last night, he's not your best friend anymore."

I keep my expression blank as I get up to wash my now soggy cereal down the drain. "It was a mistake. I'm going to go talk to him now."

"You have work."

"It's my day off." I grab my keys from the kitchen counter.

Louis stares at me. "Blair," he says, his eyes softening. "I don't know what I have to do and say to make you listen. Harry is scum."

I sigh. "Let me handle my friendship with Harry," I say before walking out of the kitchen door.

As I pull out of the driveway, I feel bad for being so frank with Louis. I've just always been defensive about Harry--now more than ever. 

My feelings and emotions are strung out as I take the familiar roads to Harry's place. What will I say to him? What will he say to me? Will he kiss me again? I shudder at the thought.

I pull up to the curb and shut my car off. The lights are on downstairs and Harry's car is in the driveway. He's definitely home.

I get out of my car and walk to the front door, ringing the doorbell. I do have a key to his house, but it doesn't feel right to use it when he doesn't know that I'm coming in advance.

I wait at the doorstep for two, then five minutes. I ring again.

This time, he answers almost immediately. I can't help but notice his hair looks curlier than usual today, his tattoos hidden beneath a black t-shirt.

"Sorry I didn't answer at first," he says. "I was on the phone."

"Oh," I say. He is tense, and I see it. He gestures for me to come in, and I follow him to the kitchen where I take a seat at the kitchen island. What do I say? What will he say? Harry leans against the counter, his eyes dark.

"So," I say, looking at my hands. "What's up?"

Harry crosses his arms over his chest. "That's it? 'What's up?'"

I don't look at him. "Well, what do you want me to say?"

"I don't know, maybe explain why you sided with goddamn Louis!"

"I didn't side with him."

"Oh, really? You fucking told me to leave!"

"If I hadn't, he would have thrown a punch at you!"

"Please, I could beat the living shit out of that douche."

"I was trying to protect you--"

"I don't need your fucking protection, Blair."