the color yellow // l.s.

31.

He got drunk on New Year's. Like, really drunk. It happened so fast, kept chasing shot after shot (it didn't help that Matty and Barry kept challenging him to take more shots. He can't turn one down if he's already drunk), until he basically passed out in Matty's bedroom.

It was a blur of a night.

He'd woken up the next morning in his own bed, with a note from Louis saying that he hoped he wasn't going to be too sick, and that he should call when he could. He ended up very sick.

That's all he wants to think about from New Year's. Thinking back on it still makes him nauseous.

But the kiss he'd sneakily received from Louis in the bathroom doesn't exactly make him nauseous. Quite the opposite, actually.

And then, out of the blue, his Mum asked about Jenny. Asked if she could come over to the house for dinner, to which he fumbled around for a reply. She then simply nodded as if something was confirmed for her, and then said he could talk to her when he's ready. He isn't stupid; she thinks they broke up and he's having a hard time talking about it. It's the best scenario to go with—whichever idea causes her to not talk about it is a win in his book.

A thought that always freaks him out—one that's occurring more and more as of late—is the way time ticks by so quickly. It was just Christmas, and it was just New Year's, but now it's all passed. These things in his life that take forever to build up and reach, always are the most fleeting.

It's beginning to feel that way with Louis.

Not in a bad way, either, just in a way that he can't believe he's actually reached it. So much time was spent concealing emotions and longing for touches, and now they're tangible. They're real. Louis' his boyfriend, and they make-out all the time, and it's wonderful. It feels like it happened so fast—yet so slow—all at the same time. He doesn't want to think about what comes next, whether it's good or bad, because a part of him will always wonder if time will fuck it up. He just wants to live in the now, as fleeting as it may be.

It also feels like he's on the cusp of something amazing or terrible. It's like he's waiting for a shoe to drop, one that will change his life or destroy it. He's not quite sure why he's feeling this way—possibly because so much drama has circled around his life that it's strange to not have it anymore. Surely that's it. And he's also looking into universities, which is a task far harder than he'd envisioned. The thing about music degrees, or pursuing it, is that one must be able to read it. Or play in a school band. Harry doesn't know either of those things, so what could he possibly do? What life-altering decision does he go with?

And what does he do the day it approaches? Do he and Louis stay together despite the distance, or do they...separate? It's a thought Harry doesn't want to think about, so he shakes his head and shoves his school work away from him—anything to put distance between what's causing those thoughts.

Maybe he will take Gemma's offer on hanging out with her friends tonight. He just needs to let loose. Even if the thought of alcohol still makes him nauseous.

"So, is that a yes?" Gemma asked once Harry walked over to her room to voice his thoughts.

He still wasn't sure. A part of him wants to go to keep an eye on Gemma.

"It's not a no," he mutters. "I'll keep thinking about it."

"It's a yes," she says with a roll of her eyes. He can't help but laugh. "You can invite Liam and Niall if you wanted to."

Harry pursed his lips for a second. That actually might make things more fun. "I'll, uh, call them." He left her room to head downstairs to get to the rotary, where he dialed Niall's number by memory and patiently waited for someone to pick up. He's sure Niall would be up for it.