Fine line (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 16

"You know why, Harry."

As I walked home from the park, Louis's words played over and over in my head like a broken record, their meaning so heavy and obvious yet so unknown and unwavering.

Before I had a chance to answer them, his phone had rang, and one of his friends reminded him of a meeting they had an hour from then.

A part of me was relived, but a part of me also longed to stay with him there. It was quiet and tranquil and well, I was with him.

"I'm sorry to cut it short Harry," he had said, and I couldn't sworn I caught the same longing in his eyes.

"It's okay," I had answered, willing the disappointment to dissipate from my tone.

Before I could say goodbye, I had felt his arms wrap around me, and for a moment I was paralyzed.

I remember feeling the overwhelming sense of euphoria enter my system as my chin rested almost habitually on his shoulder. I breathed in the sweet smell of honey cut with the spice of mint and eucalyptus. He smelled just as I remembered, and my heart had began to race uncontrollably as I hugged him back almost desperately.

I remember feeling chills throughout my entire body as he held me there, in act act of desperation and for the first time in a long time, the void within me had been filled.

I felt him shaking beneath me and I had pulled my arms closer, held him tighter.

I had wondered if he felt the same, if his body still reacted to my heat the same as mine did to his. I hoped. I prayed, even.

As my cheek brushed the side of his, I felt his touch stubble scrape against my skin, and I longed for more. More time, more heat, more him. I wanted more of everything, yet knew it was impossible.

He let go, and I lingered for a moment before letting go as well, although my body had screamed to keep him close.

We had been inches away, his blue iris's looking up into mine, and I felt that same pull I felt so many years ago, the pull to delve deeper, grow closer to him. I felt my lips part, and I pursued them bs k into a line, hopefully before he noticed,

I remember smelling his sweet breath, and yearning to taste it.

"This was nice."

Louis has spoken softly, catapulting me from my thoughts and into reality.

"Yeah," I dazed on, "yeah it was."

I watched him think for a moment, unaware of what was going on behind his eyes.

"Are you free tomorrow?"

When he asked, Louis had sounded anxious, nervous, almost.

"Yes. Yeah, I am."

I had no idea if I was free.

"Do you want to meet at my apartment, say around noon? We could catch up some more, you could tell me about your tour and about your albums. I'd love to heart it."

Louis wore a shy, anxious smile, and I felt myself melt at the sight.

Damn that boy.

"Yeah, that sounds great."

And with that, we had walked away from eachother with plans to meet once more.

Now, with my hands in my pockets, I cursed myself for walking away, for not turning around and grabbing him and -

Dammit!

God, I have to stop doing that. It was one meeting, a few hours of being with him and I was already falling back into old habits I'm sure weren't even reciprocated.

I felt my face flush yet again, and the wave of familiar anxiety and Shane wash over me.

I was rediculous. We weren't sixteen anymore. We weren't trying sane people, we had different minds and different lives. I couldn't expect things to go back to the way they were, and deep down I knew they never would.

And yet - "you know why, Harry." That had to mean something, right?

Either way, there was no excusing the way his touch had made me feel, the way even his smile, from several feet away had made me melt. Maybe he didn't feel it, maybe he hadn't fallen back into the habit I had. But there was no denying the way my body reacted to him, the way my soul faltered around his presence.

There was no denying the fact that the sky looked brighter, the scenery more beautiful. There was no excusing the fact that the children laughing and playing at the parks looked happier, younger, wilder. There was no excusing the affect Louis Tomlinson had on me, and probably would always have on me.

There was no denying the fact that no matter how pathetic, no matter how hopeless it was, I was still in love with someone who would never love me back.