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After Harry cleaned up the glass, him and Louis had an awkward breakfast together. That was until Harry turned on the tv and put on some football. Without silence it wasn't as weird.

Harry assumed that Louis forgot about what happened last night since he hadn't brought it up. Louis assumed the same about Harry.

But both were honestly just wishing the other would say something about it.

After they finished, Louis took his and Harry's bowl into the kitchen for him and washed up some of the dishes in the sink. He couldn't finish them though, not with his head pounding as it was.

So he decided to go back upstairs and back to sleep. It was a Saturday after all.

Harry's head turned toward Louis as the boy walked upstairs, and he let out a silent sigh. He hated this, the confusion the boy gave him. He never felt like this about anyone. Was it because he trusted him? Maybe since they were so close, and Harry had spent so much time with him he was just imagining these emotions...

But Harry for once saw that he was being irrational. He knew how he felt, it wasn't a question anymore. The question was whether or not he should do anything about it.

————————————————————-

Louis let his head sink into his soft pillow, feeling his head continue to throb in pain. He wanted to fall asleep so bad so that this would stop, but the mixture of nausea and disbelief of what had happened the previous night kept him awake.

It was then that Louis remembered something important to him that he hadn't touched in a while. His journal.

Louis didn't move for a while, just imagining the pages. He saw the doodled rainbows, the video game cheat codes, his own poems he'd written.

His headache began to subside, probably from the medicine he was given. So he sat up and reached into the drawer of the side table. The cold leather cover of the journal felt pleasing to touch.

He picked it up carefully and blew the bits of dust off of it. Louis hadn't written in the journal since he was twelve years old, but that was because he didn't have anymore good memories to write about after that. His imagination as a child had kept him going before, it was a bit easier to see the good parts of his life. As he got older though, depression had really sunk into him enough that he couldn't do that anymore.

The first page of the journal had turquoise polka dots. It read Good Times, in cursive letters. So the boy had stuck to that theme. He had always tried to avoid thinking of the bad, since that almost always just made it worse and made him lose his appetite and sometimes harm himself.

He thought of his first...and probably only friend while living in Japan, Sasuke. (Side note-Hey guys it's pronounced 'Sauce-Kay', just wanted to let you know so you didn't get annoyed with not knowing how it's pronounced while reading 😂) Sasuke was the one who had given Louis the journal, that was when they began dating. Louis could see his black streaks of hair that would fall in his face and his round glasses that would sit delicately on the porcelain colored skin of his nose.

He smiled at the good memories they had. Often times they were faded behind the terrible ones he also had in his mind. Sasuke had moved cities a few years ago, which is why they had broken up.

Louis opened the journal to a random page toward the middle, and peered down at a sketch of a flower. There was a poem written beneath it:

white flower petals and plush seats
laughter and beautiful leafs
a piano playing just for me
as he smiles nervously

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