aesthete | 𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 [EN]

03 | 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑒

𝑎𝑒𝑠𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑡𝑒

03 | ɴᴇᴡ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ

I leaned forward a little further towards the mirror. I had bent my hands at the edge of the wash basin, the water running in fine traces along my forehead and jaw. I raised one hand and then stroked my hair back several times, only to look as miserable as before and the pale light didn't really make it any better.

Screw it.

Lost in thought, I reached for the paper dispensers on the wall. Once, twice, three times - at some point I had stopped counting how many layers I pulled out to dry my face and hands.

I was just about to dry my cheeks up to my chin with the towels when the solid iron door on the floor above me fell shut. My movements froze, my eyes pierced the soul of my reflection. The footsteps above my head now seemed so loud that I was afraid that the ceiling above me would collapse and crush me under it any second.

Liam.

Even though I couldn't understand a word, the building wasn't soundproof enough to hear and identify the voice on the floor above me. After all, the toilets were located directly under the entrance.

No doubts.

Repeatedly I shook my head. As if all my thoughts would disappear into thin air and give me room to breathe again. And I breathed out. So intensely that I was sure that I could move mountains by doing so. At the same time, I let go of the paper towels, which then glided towards the bin in gentle gusts.

With the palms of my hands I pushed myself away from the sink and through the door, which was already a crack open anyway. As I climbed the stairs to the ground floor, I nervously rolled back the sleeves of my shirt. Gradually I let my gaze glide upwards. There they were, leaning against the railing with their backs towards me.

"Harry, we were just talking about you," Liam said as he patted me on the back fraternally with one hand. He held the cigarette away from me as far as possible. A little awkwardly I stroked him on the shoulder blades. "Oh, you did?", I asked him then. He let go of me, whereupon he looked me in the eyes with a little concern. "Are you all right, Harry? We were saying good things about you, otherwise I wouldn't have told you we were talking about in the first place." He smiled at me warmly and in the background, Louis nodded at me several times, but at that moment I felt as if my stomach was twisting and I was about to vomit at Liam's feet.

Breathe in, breathe out. Just as before.

"I just feel a bit on edge today.  The whole thing's still kind of new to me, if you know what I mean." I tried to sound as convincing as possible and Liam seemed to believe me. "Of course I do. I've even got sedatives with me, if you feel you should want some." He pointed his thumb over his shoulder towards the dressing rooms.

Before I could answer him, I noticed how Louis gradually straightened up from the railing. For a while I watched him come towards us, then abruptly looked away from him and turned back to Liam. Meanwhile, Louis came to a halt between us. His arm touched mine as he slipped his hands into the side pockets of his denim jacket.

We looked at each other for a brief moment.