Lunatic (l.s)

Chapter 8- L

It doesn't take long for Louis to realise that he's been forgotten and he'd be okay with it, but in this case he isn't, because Harry Styles is standing on the other side of the room. Louis doesn't even have to look over because he just knows that Harry's gaze is locked on him and he can feel the back of his skull burning from the intense glare. Louis stares at the pale wall in front of him, concentrating on everything but the fact he's in a room with a psycho. His fingers slightly twitch with anxiety and he can't help but shudder as he can hear Harry lighting up a cigarette. 

"Are you just going to stare at that wall or will you be sociable?"

Louis bites down on the inside of his cheek, and he's never prayed this hard in his life for Liam to come back because Louis just knows that being in a room alone with Harry is going to turn into a shit storm. It's colder in the room, colder than it was just 10 minutes ago. Louis wraps the thin jumper he wears closer around him, shivering slightly before turning his head slightly. Harry sits on a bench, long and slender legs dangling off the edge, the tips of his boots brushing against the concrete floor. Harry's hand is next to his face, a frail looking cigarette lodged between his pale, long fingers. Harry's eyes are still on Louis and Louis may be across the room, but he finds himself lost in the sea of Harry's eyes. Harry's face looks like it's carved from the angels above, and his skin looks like porcelain. His face is blank and unmoving and it makes Louis uncomfortable. Louis crosses his arms and takes a step back, and slightly jumps when his back thumps against the hard wall. The silent room erupts in a giant laugh from Harry, who uses his spare hand to clamp over his own mouth.

"You're an idiot," 

"Thanks," Louis whispers

"I believe this is the first time in a while since we've engaged in a conversation," Harry tilts his head

"Yeah," 

"You don't have to be so rude, what's wrong with you? All these quick and sharp replies. Is there any chance you could talk normally?" 

"Yes, I can speak normally, have you ever considered the chance I actually don't want to talk to you," 

"What have I ever done to you?" 

"Harry, you saved my life once and I'm thankful but seriously-,"

"But seriously what? I saved your fucking ass. I could of let you bleed out but I decided to be nice and keep you alive, and this is how you repay me?" 

"I'm thankful that you saved me, okay. But you attacked me that time in the bathrooms and I'd rather stay away from you to be honest, you're not really my type of person," 

Harry slides off the table and crosses the room in what seems like only a couple of his giant strides before he's about a meter away from Louis. Louis feels so enclosed in this space and he can't find enough air to breathe. Harry's eyebrows are furrowed and his dark hair is slicked back with whatever he uses. Harry doesn't come any closer, because he obviously feels the fear that's radiating off Louis. 

"I didn't want to attack you," 

"But you did,"