What About Forever {l.s}

I

Harry's POV

I hurriedly make my way into room 205, nearly being trampled by a swarm of people. 'This is it, this is why you're here. I remind myself. 'These next four years better be worth it.'
But then, as I'm scanning the class for a place to sit, my eyes land on a familiar face, and suddenly I've forgotten why I'm here and everything that once seemed to matter erases itself from me and all that's left within me is him. Maybe that's because deep down I've always known that he's all I really need, and in our perfect little world, we would be together forever just him and I, not needing anyone or anything more. But that's just silly, because before this moment, we had been seperated and without him I survived. So why does it feel like dying now that he's here again?
Part of me refuses to believe that the boy in the purple sweater I see is really the boy I fell in love with back in middle school. Middle school. The awkwardest of the awkward years, where you're supposed to find who you are... and I found him. But what are the chances, that we would end up right back where we were? We parted ways and he had vanished from my world, and I continued on with highschool in a new town and when it was time to go to college, I knew exactly where I was headed. So here I am, back in the town we grew up together in, where all of our memories were born. But how could he possibly be here as well?
I tell myself that if this is really him, we have to be soulmates, because soulmates always find a way back to eachother. Soulmates are forever. It's the only explanation I can find for how he would want to come back to this small town. I mean it's boring here and he's anything but that. Though that's what I've always liked about it I guess, it's simple and quiet but it's also happy and birds sing every morning. Leaving it was hard for me, but I was also leaving him, so I didn't have much room to be upset about something as little as a town. Well, it wasn't little to me, this place is where I learned nearly everything that makes up who I am today. I was leaving my old house where I was born and raised, but leaving him meant I was leaving my home.
The new town I parted to was basically a city, everyone was always rushing and it was busy. It was what I was looking for though, what I thought I needed to heal- it was change.
All of my friends from highschool, if you can even call them that, flew away accross seas to attend their dream colleges. I thought he would want to fly too. Everyone I knew branching out makes me feel like I'm taking steps backwards. Him being here would mean I'm going even further back... but is going backwards always nescessarily a bad thing? If you finish a good book, you know, one that has you engulfed in the story so that you feel the emotions of the characters so strongly, you can't put it down until you've finished it. Is it wrong to go back to read a chapter over again, even re-read the whole entire thing from the beginning?
I take a deep breath and suddenly I'm inching to where he's sitting with his arms folded lazily on the table, his focus on the people sitting in front of him,but it appears his mind is somewhere else. As I take each step, I look down at my feet, baffled because I don't feel like I'm in control, it's as if I'm floating over to him, the pull of the Earth bringing us together.
He's completely unaware of my prescense until I'm pulling out the chair next to him. He turns his head and I do at the very same time, and for an instant everything makes sense to me.
And I swear every part of the solar system, the sun, the moon, the stars, have stopped what they're doing, stopped they're jobs, the world no longer turning, to just for a moment look at him in his stunning beauty, or to look at me looking at him.
He's grown into a very handsome man with his perfectly structured face. If there is a God, then I'm positive he's the one behind this wonderful creature. I bet he spent hours hand sculpting his masterpiece, carving out his well-defined cheek bones and a smile so bright that the sun gets jealous. I think he's beautiful. He's an angel. But what really gets me, the part that assures me it's him before I even know it is, are his eyes. In them I see late night talks on the grass in his backyard and kisses in the rain that felt like magic.
He doesn't even say anything, and I wish I could, but I'm not sure what I would say. Would I start out with hello, should I ask him what he's been up to for the last four years? But it doesn't matter, because I can't speak, because I can't breathe.

   "Louis Tomlinson?" Its not even my name that was said but it causes me to jump.
The professor is stood in the front of the room with a clipboard calling out attendence.
Hearing his name makes my heart skip a beat like it always would before.
   "Here." He says, taking his eyes from me to face front, his hand in the air. The higher toned, raspy voice is still the same as it used to be. I don't feel like many things are going to be the same though.
I'm even suprised at the fact that Louis would ever be interested in being a pyschologist. I chose it because I didn't know what I wanted to do, but I knew I wanted to help people. I've been told to do what I'm good at, and I'm good at having problems. So why not help other people with problems of their own? I also find things about the brain so fascinating, the way we do things subconsciously.
Pyschology just seems so far away from the Louis I knew. I had figured he would grow up to be a teacher or a coach. I had always told myself we had nothing in common, that we were such different people that we would never be able to work. I guess maybe I was wrong. Maybe we're more alike than I thought.

   "Harry Styles." Mr. Davidson's voice jumps me out of my thoughts.
   "Y-yes?"
   "It's the first day. If you can't pay attention right now then you better leave this class because it only escalates from here." He says sternly, eyes beating on me.
I feel my cheeks reddening. "Sorry." I mumble. He stares at me waiting for more before finally turning back to the board.
   "Called out on the first day, nice goin' Curly." Louis jokingly whispers. I look over to see him grinning and can't help but smile back.
   'Curly', is a nickname he used to call me due to my curly hair that he was so fond of. Him calling me it now must mean things are okay between us. We would lay in my bed together, trying to fall asleep, (early because it was a school night and the only way we could get our mums to let us have sleepovers on school nights was if we went to bed at a reasonable hour) him playing with my hair, my arm around him. "Curly." He'd mumble and I'd just giggle with my nose pressed into his shoulder...

   "So I just want you to fill this out right now. We'll discuss it together if we have time afterwards, but if not tomorrow." Mr. Davidson begins handing out papers but I'm not sure what they are because I wasn't listening.
   "Hey, uh do you by chance know where Mrs. Harlem is?"
I sharply turn my head...Louis. He's speaking to me.
   "I think she's the front desk lady. In the main office." I say trying to sound casual.
Mr. Davidson places the papers on our table. It's a questionnaire type thing about psychology terms to see what we already know.
   "I know but I thought the office was right when you walk in and it's not." Louis says.
   "No, uh it's a different building. You know what, I can walk you there. I don't have anywhere to go after this." I offer.
   "Oh, really? Thanks, that'd be great. I was told I need to see her to get a new schedule, because mine was messed up. But I've been looking all day and I couldn't find her."
   "Yeah, it's no problem." I look at him and smile again. I find myself smiling a lot with him.
My face is heating up. We lock eyes and he looks from one to the other. It must have just registered, he realizes who I am. I brace myself for the awkward confrontation but it never comes.
   "You have green eyes." He states instead.
   "Yeah," I laugh. "I do."
   "That's cool. I like green eyes." He says it like there's nothing else in the world.
   His eyes, they were the ocean; blue and beautiful, yet scary to some. He continues to look into mine, searching ever so gently and I look into his to explore the depths of the sea of which nobody has yet to have been. His ocean sucks me in and ever so quickly, I'm drowning in his eyes.
I look away.
He doesn't remember me.