Fine line (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 18

I awoke in a haze, the best haze I had felt in a while.

As I rise, my head felt fuzzy, but this time with excitement in place of fear. My temples buzzed with anticipation, and as I opened my eyes, I felt a rare sense of calm.

Looking fine at my phone I noticed a notification, and dent the distant ache of fear.

To be fair, the last time I got a morning text, I didn't exactly have the best reaction.

Bracing myself, I picked the device up and to my surprise, the name read "Liam".

Liam and I hadn't exactly lost touch, but it was a bit odd to see a text from him this early in the day, or a text from him in general. As much as he liked to believe it, Liam wasn't exactly the most tech savvy person on earth. Although he hated to admit it, Liam was an old soul.

I opened my phone, and smiled as I read his message in my head.

Saw you and Louis finally caught up. Boys night soon?

I types a quick response to him, emphasizing my excitement at that offer, and began my daily routine of dragging myself out of bed.

On a normal day, I would grown and trudge my way into the kitchen only to root through my fridge and leave the room empty.

But today was not a normal day. Once again, I'd be meeting with Louis, and this time, I'd rather not look like a steaming pile of shit.

So instead of trudging, I simply sauntered into the kitchen, pulled out a carton of eggs and began to scramble a few of them in a pan and began to scramble them, adding salt and pepper when needed.

I had never been much of a cook but when it came to a nice place of scrambled eggs, I was your man. Pasta, I over cooked. Meat, I charred. But eggs? Well, they were easy enough, weren't they?

When my sad excuse for a five star breakfast was finished, I grabbed a fork, poured myself a glass of milk and sat my happy ass down on the soft, flopping on the tv only to find an old rerun of the American television show "friends".

I had to admit, the show was inexcusably awful. It was an all white cast spitting out bland mediocre jokes with a horribly put together and cheaply constructed backdrop. There was no flavor, no spice.

I was obsessed with it.

As I watched the TV and mindlessly formed my breakfast into my mouth I felt my mind start to wonder. It was 10Am, and after showering and getting ready, I'd be out the door and on my way to Louis's apartment.

I still had that glimmer of faith, that relaxed feeling of mindfulness, but every minute the clock struck past, I felt a deeper twinge of anxiety in my gut.

I thought back to the conversation I had had with Niall last might, and the many points he had brought up, and I felt my heart give a slight quiver.

In a way, I had known he was right. I could feel myself getting pulled back in, but this time, nothing was anchoring me. I had nothing to lose this time, nothing to protect. It was terrifying.

I had told Niall last night that I didn't care about the pain, that I didn't care about the outcome, but it had only taken me until now to realize that was a lie.

In a way, I did care. Maybe not about the possibility of me getting hurt again, and maybe not the possibility of losing myself once more. But I cared about the fact that what I was chasing seemed to be always too fast for me to catch.

Niall was right. Things were different, times had changed. Maybe it was stupid of me to think that these two meetings Lou and I had had were anything but a friend reaching out to another. Maybe it was stupid to over analyze his words and look for hidden meanings like I had so often done so long ago.