Fine line (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 21

"And you're sure you don't want to talk about it?"

I groaned impatiently, peeling the sheets off of my body and standing to dress myself.

"Yes, I am one hundred percent sure that I dont want to talk about it"

"But," she continued, as I began to button my shirt, turning to her as she spoke, "maybe I could help. You know I'm great at analyzing people's drama."

I smiled sheepishly and sat on the corner of the bed.

"Kendall, trust me, there's nothing to analyze. He's just confused and...well, and broken, in a lot of ways."

I know what you're thinking, but trust me, it isn't as weird as it seems. Kendall and I dated years ago, and while we broke it off, we'd stayed best friends. Well, best friends who occasionally...you know.

It seemed odd, but really it was so far from it. It was natural, really.

She pulled the sheets against her chest and sat up as well, facing me.

"So, are you going to call him?"

I thought for a moment, inhaling slowly. Of course, I wanted to. If I hadn't called Kendall, I'd probably be at his place now, knocking on the door and begging him to let me in, to apologize, to make things right. But something in me told me it wasn't what I was supposed to do.

If he wanted me gone, I'd stay gone. What point is there in begging for someone who didn't even know if they wanted you around, let alone wanted you.

"No," I spoke softly, "I don't think I will."

"It just doesn't make sense!" Kendall exclaimed, exasperated. "He calls you over, apologizes to you, makes a move, and then orders you out? It's insane."

"I don't understand it either, but it's over now, whatever it was." I let my eyes fall down and shut for a moment. "I didn't even know who he was in that moment, and truthfully, I don't think he knew either. I don't think he'll ever know who he truly is, and it's not something I'm willing to pull out of him. I've spent years trying to get him to realize himself, and he's never taken the time to see the truth." I let out a shaky breath and opened my eyes once more to look at her. "I'm done, Kendall. I'm done trying with him. It not worth it."

Her eyes softened, and her hand came to my shoulder, rubbing it gently.

"Harry," she spoke softly, "look at me."

I looked up at her with watery eyes.

"Don't. Be. A fucking. Idiot." Kendall spoke sternly, taking me by surprise.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," she smiled now, "don't be an idiot, Harry. Don't give up on him just because he's afraid."

"But he'll always b-"

"You don't know that." she interrupted. "Listen Harry, I know it's been years. I know it's taken him so long, and I know how much it's hurt you. But not everyone gets the luxury of being sure, of being confident. Not everyone is so easy to accept themselves. For some, it takes years, decades even, before being strong enough to see the truth. And as much as it's hurt you, you can't blame him for that. You can't write him off because he isn't ready to be himself, but you can show him how beautiful being himself can be."

"I don't know how to do that."

Kendall smiled softly and brought a hand to my cheek.

"Are you kidding, Harry? Just love him. Accept him. Show him just exactly how much he means to you. I've seen the way you look at him, I know how deeply you feel for him. You're amazing, Harry. You care so deeply and I can't imagine.." she trailed off for a moment, a flicker of pain flashing in her eyes. "Well, I can't imagine being truly loved by you, how safe it would feel."

I looked up at her sympathetically and apologetically. We had dated, years ago, but it wasn't exactly innocent. Kendall was beautiful, and slender, and kind but...well, there was also Louis. It wasn't exactly a publicity stunt, but it was something management had strongly pushed on to me. It wasn't that I never had feelings for her, but it just wasn't the same.

"Kendall.."

"Harry, it's okay. What matters now is keeping you happy, truly happy. And I don't believe writing Louis off is going to get you there. If it really is over, then fine, but get closure. If this is something you still want - and I know you do - then fight for it. Fight for him."

I swallowed hard and stood once more.

"I'm going to need to think it over, I should get home."

"You sure you don't want to spend the night?"

"Not this time," I smiled softly at her, "I think I've taken up enough of your time."

She laughed and stood up, wrapping the sheet around her. "Don't flatter yourself, styles."

I leaned down, kissing her cheek lightly. "See you later."

"Hopefully not too soon," she joked. "I've gotten a bit sick of you."

I laughed, and turned to leave.

"Thanks for the therapy," I called, while opening the door.

"Thanks for the sex!"

Chuckling, I closed the door behind me, taking my phone from my pocket and beginning to call an Uber home.

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Unfortunately, the ride home was a bit of a trek, so it gave me plenty of time to think.

With my head pressed against the window, the cool glass cooling my flushed exterior, I let everything fully sink in.

There was a pit at the bottom of my stomach, my guts forming into sludge and tumbling around inside of me.

Was Kendall right? Was I writing things off too soon? Was I denying him his chance to change?

I kept replaying his words in my head, feeling the venom in his voice, seeing the anger, the hatred in his eyes. That couldnt be love, could it? That couldn't be care.

I pressed a finger to my temple, trying desperately to stop the thudding it ignited.

Nothing made sense. Nothing felt right, or safe, or secure. And that's whst love was supposed to feel like, wasn't it? Safe, warm, coveted.

I'm this moment, I hated him. I hated Louis for making me feel disgusted in myself, for making me doubt myself. I hated him for making me feel like he wanted me, then throwing me out in the matter of minutes.

I hated Louis for all these years of denial and false hope and for all the pain losing him time and time again had brought me.

I hated the feeling of him slipping through my fingers instead of holding on to them, guiding them, feeling them. I hated the feeling that anytime I was looking into his eyes, he was looking right through mine.

God, I hated him.

And yet, even after another has touched them, I could still feel his lips on mine, taste his sweetness. Even after another had touched me, I could still feel his hands on me, his touch igniting me.

Even when i hated him, I yearned for him.

Even when I hated him, I loved him.