***Harry Styles***
Wednesday, July 25th, 2012 – North London, England

I hadn’t planned on my teasing Louis about the picture of him snuggling my Pink Floyd shirt (which no, I did not actually send to the other guys) to lead to sex. At best, I had hoped it would at least open a door to talk; maybe relieve some of the tension that was left between us and even get us comfortable joking around with each other again. At worst, he would yell at me, and he already hated me so that wouldn’t have been a big deal. Although, I think I knew he never actually would yell at me. And really, who was I to complain about what the picture did lead to?

I had gone in Louis’s room the previous night because I wanted to cut. I still missed him, and I still loved him, and I was glad I hadn’t moved out but it was killing me to be around him constantly and know he wasn’t mine; that he was the one who had ended it and he clearly meant it. I wasn’t going to tell him that I wanted to cut – we weren’t quite to that deep of a level again yet – but I thought maybe he’d understand I just needed to not be alone. But when I saw that he was cuddling with my shirt – that, to be honest, I hadn’t even noticed had gone missing – my heart fluttered. I knew in that moment that he still at least had some sort of feelings for me, and I hoped my calling him out on it would lead to that conversation. So I quietly snapped a picture of Louis with Pink Floyd – they made a very cute couple – and then went back to my room, no longer needing to cut. Of course, I still didn’t get any sleep because I was up analyzing the fact that he was sleeping with my shirt, but it was better than laying awake in self pity like I had been doing all the other nights. Oh, and the whole not wearing a shirt while cooking breakfast thing? Definitely just to set him up, and it worked perfectly, making me glad I still knew him as well as I thought I did. I was just glad I had thought to turn the stove off before I showed him the picture.

Once we finished, we laid on the floor, my arm around Louis’s shoulders and his arm draped securely around my stomach, in a comfortable silence at first. But then as we both got lost in our thoughts – probably very similar ones – I could feel the atmosphere in the room thickening as neither one of us wanted to speak on the issue at hand: what did this mean? Were we back together? Or was this just break up sex to seal the deal? I didn’t want to ask – if it was bad, I didn’t want to know, and I certainly didn’t want to ruin the moment we were in. Louis’s stomach took care of that for us when it rumbled. He looked up at me from under his eyelashes, and I knew that look.

“What do you want me to make you?” I offered, understanding. A smile spread across his face.

“Bacon?” he fluttered his eyelashes. I shook my head, but I was smiling, and then we stood up, leaving our perfect position on the floor. We put our clothes back on and went into the kitchen, where I started breakfast all over again, even though it was probably closer to lunch time by that point.

I made Louis breakfast and then we ate, both of us silently thinking about the events of that morning. I knew Louis was too stubborn to be the first to speak on it, but I wanted just a few more minutes of happiness, because once we talked, I didn’t know if I’d ever feel happy again, depending on where he was at. Finally, when he finished loading the dishwasher, I couldn’t take the not knowing any longer, and I sat down on the couch as he joined me in the living room.

“What was that?” I asked him, my eyes searching his for an answer as he stood facing me.

“Bacon, and eggs, and toast,” he joked. At least he was becoming Louis again.

“I mean, did it – did it mean anything to you?” I ignored his humor. He bit his lip and nodded, afraid of my response. “Me, too,” I told him, then looked away from his eyes. I needed to be able to address everything that had lead to the break up, and I couldn’t do that if I was looking at Louis, because he was so perfect I forgot every reason I had been angry with him whenever I saw his smile.

“So, where does this put us?” Louis asked, hesitantly.

“Where do you want it to put us?” I asked, forcing myself to look back at him because I wanted to read his face.

“Harry, I – I’ve missed you,” he admitted boldly. He sat down next to me and took my hands in his, and the second he touched me I felt the unwanted tears form behind my eyes.

“You’re the one that broke up with me,” I choked out.

“I know,” Louis said, seriously. “I thought that was what you wanted.” I looked at him, incredulous. How in the world could he think that was what I had wanted?

“What? You’re the only thing I’ve ever wanted,” I told him.

“It just – I know that in my heart, but my head tells me you were just using Management as a crutch to not come out publicly.” I could tell that was hard for Louis to say – he knew it would hurt me. And it did. I pulled my hands from his and stood up.

“You of all people should know me better than that,” I told him.

“I know, but, Harry, you’ve never explained why you’re so okay with hiding us. It hurts, Harry, it really does.” I knew it was huge that he told me that, but I was hurting, too.

“I have told you, Louis, you know I can’t deal with all the criticism and hate,” my voice was exasperated.

“Yes, you can,” Louis said firmly, and stood up to face me. “You’re stronger than you know, Harry.” I didn’t say anything, just pursed my lips and looked away. “I’m not trying to pressure you into telling the whole world if you’re not ready,” Louis explained. “I mean, I know we’re not in a position to do so anyway, but I just don’t get your reasoning for being so willing to hide us.”

“Is there an ‘us’, Louis?” I said, changing the subject. “Because you’re the one that broke my heart.”

“Harry, I know, and I’m sorry, but if we don’t talk about the reasons we ended things in the first place, we’re never going to be able to move forward.” At least we were on the same page with that.

“Do you want to move forward?” I asked, immediately terrified of his response.

“Of course I do,” his eyes watered.

“Then why did you leave me?!” I exclaimed, and closed my eyes as my own tears spilled out with the words I'd been holding in for what seemed like forever.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Harry,” he said gently.

“But you did!” I opened my eyes. “So bad, Louis.”

“I know,” he sniffled. “It hurt me too.”

“Well, you had a funny way of showing it,” I told him. He sighed. I shook my head and went up to my room, no longer able to deal with the highs and lows of that morning.