when it all began | l.s.

Say It

Harry's POV

I hesitated for a moment, trying to decide whether or not I should send my next text.

Hurry up you idiot. He's going to think you left, I thought. Ugh, just do it.

I picked up my phone and slowly clicked send, then switched my phone off and stared at the black screen, waiting for his reply to pop up. It felt like hours before he finally answered with just one word.

Louis: Okay

I grinned, got up, and pulled on some sweats and a sweatshirt so I could meet him in the lobby. I wandered down the hall and decided to take the stairs since I was only on the third floor.

I took a seat in a lounge chair and took out my phone, just to occupy myself. I felt weird just sitting and doing nothing. After a while I set my phone down in my lap and leaned my head against the back of the chair, shutting my eyes. I was starting to become tired once again, and I figured it couldn't hurt to rest for a couple minutes.

I awoke to the feeling of a hand on the top of my head. My eyes fluttered open and I looked up.

"Harry? Why are you sleeping in the lobby?" Louis asked. I quickly sat up straight and rubbed my eyes, wondering how many people had seen me.

"I was waiting for you, and I thought I'd just rest my eyes for a second, and then I guess I feel asleep," I explained. He held out his hand and I took it, letting him pull me up to stand in front of him. He then led me over to the elevator. When it arrived it was empty, and no one else came in with us. As soon as the doors closed I felt a familiar tension in the air.

I looked over at Louis, who was wearing sweats and a white t-shirt. His light brown hair was slightly messy. I remembered when he used to always style it into a quiff, but I kind of liked the way he just left it now. It suited him. He had a bit of stubble as well, which was very attractive on him, although I could never pull it off. On his feet he had a pair of black Vans. Some things just never change.

After taking in his appearance my eyes met with his. Everything about him was so beautiful, but his eyes were my favourite part. They were the nicest shade of blue I'd ever seen, and I could never get enough of them.

The elevator beeped as we came to the third floor and the doors opened. He stepped out ahead of me, and it surprised me as he made his way to my room without hesitation. He knew exactly where he was going. When we got to the room he waited for me to unlock it, and then he walked inside with me following closely behind him.

He kicked off his shoes and I did the same, and then he wandered over to the large couch in front of the TV. I set my phone down on the counter and followed him. Immediately he noticed all the papers sprawled out on the coffee table, and he curiously picked one up. I moved to stand behind the couch and peer over his shoulder. He was reading the beginning of a song I'd tried—and failed—to write.

"Where's the rest?" he asked, turning around to look up at me.

"Didn't know how to finish it." I shrugged. He stuck his bottom lip out and raised his eyebrows. "You look like a five year old when you do that," I said, smiling.

"Hey I do not!" he argued.

"Aw, I'm sorry little guy," I teased as I ruffled his hair. He rolled his eyes but I could tell he was holding back a smile. He set the paper down, got up on his knees and put his hands on the back of the couch.

"I am 5'9 you know," he stated.

"Ah, sure you are."

"I am!" he insisted. "Say it! Say I'm 5'9!" He stood up on the couch so he was taller than me, putting one hand on my shoulder for balance. I laughed as he did this, which only bothered him more.