Homophobic (l.s)

Chapter 23

The days pass by in a blur, and weeks feel like they're gone with a blink of an eye. Louis can feel the hard shell he'd built crumbling away with each fleeting glance at Harry. It's something about those eyes and the way they sparkle that causes Louis' heart to skip a beat. It's awkward to begin with, so fricking awkward to try and overcome and forget about the incident. It takes Harry a week before he could even build the courage to look at Louis; the feeling of his stares burning through his skin made it tremendously hard. Avoiding the inevitable it seemed, because at some point he knew he was going to have to make eye contact.

And it does happen. It's the end of the term, and holidays have officially started. When the clock ticks over to 3pm, students are quick to move. It's an avalanche of prepubescent children out the doors, scrambling to be the first one free. Harry had been packing his bag up a little slower, to avoid the possible trampling he'd experience if he decided to follow the rest. Overall though, there was a giant relief that had washed over him. The freedom of now not having to live under constant stress and anxiety, and constantly worrying about what's next with Louis. In fact, the weeks that had passed there really hadn't been a next. After their last conversation it all came to a screeching halt. No conversations, not even a single word. But Harry's certain it's because he's avoided every little thing to do with Louis at all costs.

As Harry zips his bag and goes to stand up from his desk. He is taken aback when a hand smacks onto the desk. He stares at the hand; refusing to look up. His throat is beginning to close, and the pit in his stomach is growing. The hand is so small, but so masculine at the same time. He can see a tattoo slightly poking out from under the sweaters sleeve.

"Uh," Harry's voice comes out slow and strained, as his eyes slowly venture up.

It's then when his breath completely hitches in his throat. He feels his very own soul starting to leave his body. Because those blue eyes are staring right back at him. The very same blue that sets ofc fireworks in his veins and causes an anxious sweat start to build in the palms of his hands.

"Hey Harry," The voice isn't foreign, not in the slightest. However, the tone is. It's playful in nature.

"Hey Mr Tomlinson," Harry swallows, eyes quickly darting towards the door, as the last remaining students trickle out to their freedom.

It's just them. Him and Louis. The room feels so small suddenly, like it's closing in. Louis feels exceptionally close. Harry clenches his jaw and takes a deep breath while looking back at Louis; who has a gentle smile pressed onto his lips.

"Listen. I know this term has been ridiculously difficult. And I also know for a fact you've been avoiding me. You haven't even looked at me since the last conversation. I just wanted you to know that you did really well this term and I'm proud of you,".

Louis then begins to walk back to his desk, a spring in his step. Something that Harry hasn't seen in what seems forever with Louis.

"Thanks, I've tried my best,".

"With avoiding me. That I could tell,".

"Well I don't know what else to do. Communicating with you hasn't been the easiest, and I'm just struggling with a lot," Harry shrugs, his heart rate starting to skyrocket.

"You and me both Harry. I've been feeling like I've got the world on my shoulders every single day. I'm constantly second guessing myself. Do you know how tired I am?".

Louis takes a seat at his desk and rests his chin into the palm of his hand. His bronze hair had been slicked back but was starting to come undone. He was looking a little dishevelled. He hadn't shaved in a couple weeks and had a steady amount of facial hair. Which aged him quite a bit. But Harry thought he looked so damn fine; it was starting to hurt.