reflect | twin!louis (The English Version)

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"Talvez, se eu não tivesse um troço, lá dentro da barriga, que eu sinto que está dançando a dança da garrafa." - Talvez

Louis looked at his backpack on the bed, checking to see if he had taken it all. Then he looked out of the window at the sun. It was hot, almost like the summer, even though it was early spring. March didn't used to be hot like that.

He went into the closet, and looked at the mirror in the door. Jeans, white tank and vans; everything ok.

But the worse was what was down there on the couch.

"Are you going to stay home today?" Louis asked as he walked downstairs.

William was on the couch, his legs curled up, reading The Pickwick Papes - the whole school was reading this book. Louis and Harry had already made good progress; the Pickwick study group was already well ahead of the scientific research with Mr. Tupman, Mr. Snodgrass and Mr. Winkle.

"Dunno."

"Are you going out with Adam?" Louis was bent over the back of the couch, his elbows resting. "Are his friends still there?"

William looked away from the book.

"Why, do you want another show after your little party with Liam?"

"No. You always go out, I just..."

William was reading again, and Louis stared at the mute television.

The tongue was itching to ask if he was going out with Harry, because after all, William was a liar, and it would be great to see him lying so blatantly.

"If you were going out without Harry knowing, I could sleep in your room again," Louis said and almost laughed. Almost. "It was no problem the other time."

William shrugged, but didn't looked at him.

"Um, that's good."

Louis turned around and climbed into his room again.

To everyone in the family, Liam would have a party for his best friends. Nothing more. Ha. Liam had always been Louis's escape route - not that he needed to use much, but he was liable.

But Louis was apprehensive and told himself that it was nothing. Getting to know Harry's family was not a big deal, it would all be a lie. He would go because he wanted answers, and that seemed the only chance, even though he was an idiot.

It would be so much easier to corner Harry on the wall, or call Anne and say the liar his son was, but to have that, to have to do was what was saving Louis.

Having a place to go, people to meet - people who want to meet him - was the closest he had to feeling anything more than he was. And his head was still flooded with questions. Crazy for thinking they would be answered.

Louis looked at the backpack again, and sat on the bed. Had he gotten up too early? What time would Harry really call?

There was a message on his phone, from five minutes ago.

I'm waiting for you on the corner. Silver minivan. Swimsuit, right?

Louis jumped off the bed and pulled the backpack. He came down the stairs like a hurricane, and for a moment, seeing William at home while he was all ready to leave, left the whole thing even more cool.

To meet his boyfriend's family, pretending it was him.

Not pretending, no. Louis was Louis.

Louis was Harry's boyfriend. William did not even existed.