***Louis Tomlinson***
Friday, January 27th, 2012 – Belfast, Ireland

Harry and I said goodbye to the boys the next morning, and took a car to the airport, where we got on a plane to the Manchester Airport where Harry’s mom, Anne, would pick us up, only a half hour drive from her house. It was nice to not have to hide on the flight – the other guys were flying to a different airport, and we were in our own little section in first class. I rested my head on Harry’s shoulder as the plane took off and tried to sleep, but Harry’s breathing was short, almost anxious. I glanced up at him. His face was worried. I sat up and turned to face him.

“What’s up?” I asked him. He looked at me, and I knew, but he still spoke it anyway.

“I’m really nervous about telling my family,” he said.

“I know you are,” I replied, taking his hand in mine and pulling it to my lips, kissing the back of it. “But I’ll be right there next to you, and I don’t think it’s going to go poorly but if it does, you have me. You’ll always have me.” Harry smiled at my promise. I wasn’t often open with my feelings, but I was trying with Harry, and he appreciated the effort. “And, if it helps, I’m just as scared of telling mine as you are of telling yours. We’re in this together.”

“Together,” Harry repeated, the smile spreading across his face. “I like how that sounds.” I smiled as well, and then we huddled up and fell asleep.

Our plane landed and we found Anne. I had met her before, but only briefly. She seemed to like me, and when we got to the house, Harry’s stepdad, Robin, and older sister, Gemma, were there. They made us a late lunch and then we all gathered in the living room to visit. So far, things had gone smoothly, and his family seemed to take a liking to me, although I knew how to turn on the charm when I needed to. His parents sat on the couch across from us, Gemma in the recliner between the sofas. When there was a break in the conversation, Harry glanced nervously at me, and I nodded at him, reassuring him it was okay to go ahead.

“So, there’s something I wanted to talk to you guys about,” Harry opened. His family looked at him, curious, probably not expecting what was about to come. “Well, I guess it’s more of something that we want to tell you,” he emphasized, glancing at me, and I was sure they thought it had to do with the band. “I’ve been a little worried about this, so please don’t hate me when I say it, but…” he trailed off, and I nudged him to quit stalling. “Mom, Robin, Gemma,” he said each name slowly, looking at each of his family members, “I’m gay.”

Notes

Directioners,

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