Orphans | Larry

20

LOUIS POV

It had been all but five minutes since Harry had left, and yet there was a fresh round of knocking at the door.

I groaned as I lifted myself from the sofa, leaning over to the side in order to find the remote that would finally pause the David Attenborough documentary that I had subjected myself to watch for 'educational' purposes.

A small smile found its way to my lips at the thought of Harry returning so soon after his departure. The thought caused a sense of both comfort and excitement within me, considering the fact that he had finally remembered our time together.

Yet it still left me to wonder, what this would mean for us. It was unlikely that we would so gracefully fall back into the same pattern that we were accustomed to as children, yet the everlasting hope of something more would always be there.

I walked along the narrow corridor leading up to the door, pulling my sleeves in a downward motion. Although he had already seen what was hidden behind my array of long-sleeved outfits, I still felt uncomfortable with the idea. I felt uncomfortable with the idea that he would see me as the fragile, weak and sensitive person that I truly was. I was afraid that he would not like the person who hid behind the sassy remarks and confident exterior.

I could only hope that perhaps some day, he would learn to love my true self. Whether it be in a platonic way, or in a romantic way. Yet I prayed for the latter.

I placed my hand on the door knob, a new wave of excitement pulsating through me. I took in a deep breath, fixing my hair quickly before opening it.

"Here to return the favour? Harold." I spoke out confidently, only for my expression to turn from one of smugness, to a shade of beet red. As I realised that the man who stood before me, was definitely not Harry.

"Er-m..."

"Oh Shit. Stan. Hey," I awkwardly let out a cough, stepping to the side and signalling for him to make his way on through.

"I'm not even gonna ask." He replied, shoving me slightly to the side as he entered. Jaw tense, anger radiating from his aura in a way that caused me dizziness. Yet I could not connect the dots as to why.

"Uh. Okay. I guess."

I was engulfed by a silence so strong that it almost left me paralysed, only attempting to move once I felt his antagonised state bore into me.

"So...what brings you back, then?" I had only now realised that there was really no need for Stan to be back, for we had only seen each other earlier on in the day.

He sneered, "Why?" He came increasingly closer, "Too good for me now? Too busy with Harold? Huh?" The words leaving his mouth were laced in pure venom. The reason for that, however, was unknown to me.

I began to get increasingly more uncomfortable with just how close our stances were. His face, all but an inch apart from my own.

I placed my hand on his chest, pushing slightly to create a distance, "N-no. That's not the case." I stuttered out.

And suddenly, I felt as if I were back at school. My first day where Stan had pinned me up against the locker. I felt the same fear now as I had back then, back when he was hurling words of abuse at me.

He must have sensed the flash of worry blurt through my eyes, the way in which I had flinched away from him out of pure reflex, because he released his grip immediately.

"I'm so sorry, Louis!" He became frantic in his act, as he stepped away from me. Pacing back and fourth in clear discomfort at his own actions.

"It's okay." I spoke, quietly, yet still at a volume in which I could be heard.