***Harry Styles***
Saturday, February 11th, 2012 – North London

I looked at Louis for his reaction when I told him I loved him. I didn’t have to explain to him that I meant it differently than when I’d said it before. This was true, romantic love, not brotherly love, and he understood that just by the tone of my voice and the look in my eyes when I said it. I hadn’t meant to let it slip like that, but when I did, I wasn’t too upset. It was out in the open now, and if he didn’t feel the same way I couldn’t blame him, although I would be upset.

“I love you, too,” Louis said. I looked at him, wanting to pinch myself to see if I was dreaming. But I felt the stinging of the cuts on my hip, and knew I was awake. A smile crept across my otherwise torn face, and I grabbed Louis in my arms and kissed him, and we made out all the way over to the bed. We stayed like that until we heard the doorbell – the guys were there. Louis pulled away and looked at me.

“Are you still up to hang out?” he asked me, sweetly. I nodded.

“It’ll be fun,” I said. Louis got up to go down and answer the door, and I bandaged my cuts and changed clothes, blood having splattered some on what I’d been wearing.

Louis didn’t let me out of his sight the rest of the night – it was amazing when he didn’t follow me into the bathroom. We hung out with the guys, and things seemed pretty normal. We weren’t sure how comfortable they’d be with all the touching Louis and I did now that they knew it wasn’t platonic, so we kept it at a minimum. I had to admit, it did feel good to let the guys know what was going on. I knew this relationship was the real thing – I was in it for the long haul, and when Louis told me he loved me, I knew he was, too. It made me feel better about everything else, knowing I had Louis by my side and we were both on the same page.

Notes

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