IM Disorientated

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disorientated is a big word.

hiii. 'm ranked super low and i've been stalling this update for so so long, i'm so irresponsible, etc. etc. i've not even been busy. i've just been lazy and tori and i have been talking on either skype or the phone every night this week so this is a super short update since i have a limited amount of time. 

dedicated to thindra in order to repay her for her dedication to me. thank youu. 

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"Fuck," Louis breathes. Do I go after him? The door is still slightly ajar, cold, rainy air whipping through the small crack. It whistles and howls as Louis approaches it, fingers wrapped tightly around the handle as his heart pounds in his chest. His grip squeezes and then falters; he can hear Harry trying to start his car. His eyes slip shut as he lets out a low exhale, leaning his forehead against the wooden surface of the door. "No." He's not sure if he's speaking to himself or to Harry, but neither one is listening as he yanks the door open and darts down the steps. 

It's pouring down rain and Louis can barely see straight in front of him; Harry's headlights are all lit up, though, he can definitely tell as much. He shivers slightly as he hobbles over, rain soaked shirt sticking to his skin as he knocks on Harry's window. His toes curl against the hardness of the driveway underneath him. Harry looks over at him from the driver's seat, but then his attention is directed back to the steering wheel as he begins to pull out.

Louis' eyes widen and he takes a step back. No, he doesn't think he'd fancy getting his toes run over by Harry's heavy tires, not here in the rain in the middle of a fight. 

"Harry!" he shouts, but Harry keeps backing out of the driveway, so his voice cracks and his volume decreases. He sniffs brokenly, "Harry."

Harry only glances at him once more as he reaches the end of the driveway. Their eyes meet, Louis thinks, but he can't really tell because Harry looks away just as fast as he blinks and suddenly he's driving away. Louis is not okay with this in the very slightest. He doesn't know what else to do; Harry's driving away and Louis' own keys are somewhere deep inside the flat, God knows the last time he had them in the same place for more than a day - he's outside and cold and wet and Harry is getting farther with each damn second he spends wasting time trying to figure out what to do and feeling sorry for himself. So finally, he just decides that enough is enough and takes off after the vehicle.

Harry's driving considerably slow due to the fact that it's precipitating so heavily, so Louis is able to keep up a steady pace. He fears that, even though he's certain Harry can see him in the rear-view mirror, he'll speed up or continue on past the point of Louis' endurance. After all, years on a footie field can only prepare someone so much for running down a street during a rainstorm with no shoes or socks on. Louis sort of hates himself for making such a rash decision, but dammit, it's Harry, and Louis' never thought straight when it comes to him.

Just when Louis' starts to question the logic behind this decision, Harry stops the car. 

And then he gets out.

Louis freezes immediately, all goosebumps and heavy eyelashes as Harry walks over to him. His mess of brown curls are pressed flat against the sides of his face; he's got water droplets on his shoes and on his lips as he speaks, "What the hell are you doing?"

Louis forgets how to breath for a second. "Chasing after you."

Harry furrows his brow, scratching at the back of his neck and looking anywhere but Louis' eyes. "That much I can tell. But.. um, why're you-"

"I don't know," Louis swallows around the lump in his throat, "but I knew as soon as you started driving that I couldn't just let you walk away."

"Technically, I was driving away." 

"Technically, I'm in love with you," Louis falters, "you're a fucking idiot. And I'm in love with you. You make me mad and you never clean up after yourself. You always roll on top of me in the bed at three in the morning and you snore too loud when you're deep into your dreams. You laugh too loud and you talk too much and you're terrible at checkers, I hate that your eyes are so green and that you think you can control any aspect of my life; and I am completely, totally, and undeniably in love with you. You're so selfish, Harry."

Harry has fallen silent, a look of utter confusion and - hurt? - Louis sighs, continues on, tries not to cry; "I fucking hate how selfish you are. You just. Say things. And you don't realize how they sound. You try to tell me off for something that's not even my fault and you just do whatever makes you happy, you don't even think about me or Niall or Liam or Zayn or anyone but yourself. And that makes me want to slap you. Hard. You're so naive and you're so oblivious, it makes me want to tear my hair out along with yours-"

"Is this supposed to be motivating?" Harry mutters. Louis shuts him up with a hard glare.

"If you're quite finished," he snaps. "I was going to continue by saying that I am so, so, so fucking in love with you that I overlook that all every time you even take a breath of air, because it's beautiful the way you smile when I look you in the eyes. It's beautiful the way you bite your lip when you focus and it's beautiful when you laugh because everyone sees you, Harry, but no one really does. Everyone sees your face, but no one sees you." Louis pauses, "except me. And, I, I just can't lose that. I can't lose you over something as - as stupid as this. I love you." His lip trembles, and he can't hold the tears back anymore, hard as he may try. "I love you and I'm sorry that I fucked up. I want you to hug me and tell me that it's okay because that's what you always do. I hate you. I need you to hug me and tell me that it's okay."

Harry hesitates before he speaks: "It's okay to need someone, Lou."

"Not when it's you," Louis hiccups, "because one day you'll just slip right through my fingers and you'll disappear and I'll crumble. And I can't have that happen. So I need you to get back in that car right now, and I'm gonna get in the passenger's seat. And we're going to drive home and talk about this like civilized people. And you're not going to argue."

Much to Louis' surprise, Harry doesn't do anything but oblige. He leads Louis over to the door and even goes as far as opening it for him, making sure Louis' fingers and arms are securely tucked away before he closes the door and gets in on his own side.

Louis trembles against the seat, and when Harry cuts the engine and turns to look at him, his face crumples again when Harry pulls him into a bone-crushing hug. 

"It's gonna be okay."

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