FINGERTIPS ║ Larry Stylinson

29 ║ No More Lies

September 9th

Harry was sitting on the window sill, his earphones plugged into his ears. He could feel the sun stroke his cheek and it was burning his skin softly. The music echoing into his brain helped him stop thinking about everything around him. All the things he wasn't happy to remember. All the things he wished he could erase from his past. Strangely, his eyesight wasn't the most terrible thing now. It wasn't the cause of the uncomfortable feeling of burning in the bottom of his stomach or the pressure onto his heart. And for a brief moment, he wished he had never met Louis. He didn't want to be in love, it hurt. It was much different from what he had experienced with Carrie. Their relationship had always been a bit childish. It was not the most important thing in his world. He would say they had rather been each other's best friend than a real couple. And it had been great, full of fun most of the time because they were still young and not really aware of the reality of a relationship in the adult world. The accident had thrown Harry in the horrendous reality, the scary part of the world in which he had never set a foot. But now it was different. This relationship was different. The feelings he had for Louis were so different from those he used to have for Carrie. And it was scary, because he had no idea if Louis felt the same way. He loved him. He loved him the way he had never loved anyone else and he couldn't even explain how scary it was. He heard knocks on the door and it pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Honey?" Anne' voice appeared in the room.

Harry took off his earphone and sat back down onto his bed. He leaned against the wall, waiting for his mother to join him. And he knew he was ready. It had to happen.

"Gemma told me you needed to talk to me about something?" she asked as she came closer to her son to sit next to him.

He was playing with the rings around his fingers. It was surprisingly calming to have them and play with them every now and then. He cracked his knuckles, trying to get ready to whatever he had planned. He had practised a lot, mostly inside his head not to be heard in case he would change his mind. The whole speech was ready. But he was still terrified. He was not scared of how his mother would react, he was scared to make a mistake. What if it was not a good decision? What if it turned out to have terrible consequences?

"I wanted to talk to you about something serious..." he started.

Anne sat down more comfortably although the situation was making her very anxious. She wondered what serious meant to Harry. She wondered how serious it was to him and if it would sound as serious to her. But no matter if he wanted to talk to her about the weather or the way he felt inside, it would matter the same. She stroked his back softly, letting him know she would always be there for him. No matter what happened, she would always be there. But Harry was scared. He had imagined the scene many time in his head. What would happen? How would he admit it to her? And when? And he found himself having some second thought about it all suddenly. He had always built a perfect image of his mother, a supportive, strong and overly kind woman. But what if she was not as supportive as he had always thought she would? He hadn't talked to her about anything yet, nothing about Louis, nothing about the kisses or the fight. He had lied to his mother so much those last months that he felt like she wouldn't forgive him.

"You know you can tell me anything you want, right Harry?" she said after noticing how anxious he looked.

She took one of his hands in between hers and stroked the back of it with her thumb, to try and give him some courage.

"I know it may sound a bit strange but I really need to take it off my chest already. I don't want to lie to you anymore, mum, and I'm sorry I've been lying for such a long time. I've always trusted you and I used to tell you everything, even the most embarrassing thing because you're the best mummy I could ever ask for. I don't want to find an excuse for hiding things to you but I want you to know that it wasn't my decision. And if it was up to me, I would have told you a long time ago, because I trust you."