In The Depths

Loneliness is like a deep dark void, with nowhere to go and nowhere to hide. As much as I try, I just get deeper into the depths of loneliness, and into the depths of my soul. I just want to get out. I don't deserve this.


12. Sometimes Time Has An Impact

It’s been a month.

For a month I have been vigorously working on everything relating to my drama class. Countless hours I have been rehearsing my lines for Javert, looking at my skinny self in the mirror, imagining that I was an old man with a strong personality and a grey beard. I would dig for the perfect note in the bottom of my chest, letting out a vibrato of gravel as I sing. I would go to sleep thinking of the world as my stage, the sky as my spotlight, the people as my extras.

For all those hours that I have not been acting, I would be at my job. Angrier and angrier Mr. Dominique (my boss) would get as my mind drifted off. I would not be as green with envy as the actors acted in front of me, because I was now one of them. They were my extras, I imagined again.

But there is one person who is not extra.

Harry Styles.

Since my life had been clogged with business, I did not have much time to see Harry. I felt guilty day on and day on. I started to feel that I have been just merely ignoring him, afraid that he would be annoyed with me for not seeing him.

Oh, believe me. I missed him ever so dearly. There was a piece of this puzzle missing from my life, and that piece is him.

So now, a month later, I stand in front of his chestnut door. The nervousness washes over me in tidal waves. I feel so rude and mean and worthless. Meeting somebody and then ditching them for something else is sort of off-putting.

I knock and wait.

The door creaks open, and there stands Harry. His hair is grown out, a hairband lazily enveloping his bangs. He does not even crack a smile as I force myself to grin at him, lust building up inside my body. I missed him so much, and here he is, angry.

“Louis,” he breaths.

I nod, slowly walking inside. The familiar vanilla scent of his house wafts into my nose, bringing me comfort.

“I thought you died,” he says, showing no emotion.

“I’m sorry. I was just really busy,” I sit down on the brown sofa. “The acting class and my job took up a good part of my time.”

I expect him to mumble an “It’s alright” or even an “I understand”, but instead he says this:

“Louis, it really hurt me. I know a month isn’t long, but I still expected you to contact me in some way. My phone didn’t ring. My doorbell didn’t chime. You didn’t even dare to text me.”

I open my mouth to speak.

He says more before I can talk.

“I thought you abandoned me.” His voice cracks.

I never realized how sensitive he was until now. He is a brittle leaf, ready to crack. And I stepped on that leaf, watching it break into small pieces.

“Harry, I would never abandon you. I was stupid for not seeing you for this long. After meeting you, I was just confused. I never thought anybody as good as you would enter my life, and I sort of ruined the whole opportunity.”

Harry’s eyes look darker, the green irises a pine green. His lip twitches as he stares at me. He looks beautiful, every feature aligning into a masterpiece. All I want to do is cheer him up and take him out of this depressing state of somber.

“Okay,” he sighs.

I tighten my jaw, standing up. Harry looms over me, his height taller than last time I saw him. I take his hands in mine, savoring the roughness of the skin. His eyelids flutter as I touch him, breathing out through his front teeth.

“I have to tell you something,” I whisper, feeling as light as a balloon. I step closer to him, feeling the fabric of his green jumper against my arms. The smell of bittersweet sweat and crushed almonds lingers on his skin, inviting me closer. I close my eyes and rest my forehead into the arch of his neck and shoulder, breathing in.

Hm?” he mutters. I can tell he’s trying to stay calm by the gallop of his heartbeat. I feel his muscles tense as I hold him close.

“I know I might sound mushy while saying this, but this thing going between us is real,” I whisper. “I have never met a boy as wonderfully blessed as you, Harry. I’ve hit the ground running with you, and I’m blissful with every pounding step.”

I hear a faint gasp from him, so quiet that I could barely hear it. He brings his lips to my cheek, pressing the skin down faintly. I feel like I’m floating in midair, rolling into an abyss of pure joy.

“Lou,” he whispers, bringing his pink lips to my nose. He kisses me there, traveling down, until his brilliantly thin lips are lingering above my top lip. I feel his warm breaths above my mouth, causing me to shake with every crumbled breath. I’m fragile and weak as he holds me there, taking control over my frail, emotional heart.

And then, he kisses me. His delicate frame pulls me against his body, heart beating against time as his lips massage into mine. I kiss him back, finishing the sense of pleasure and love. We feel complete as we pull back, breathing as one.

And then I shatter as he says these four words: “I don’t love you.”

You know that feeling you get when the news that a loved one has died comes across? I feel exactly like that. That beautiful kiss meant nothing, just an exchanging of lip movements, nothing more and nothing less. I have to stop myself from crying.

But then he continues.

I am in love with you, and there’s a difference.”

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