I watch nervously as the clock ticks closer and closer to eleven o' clock. I know I shouldn't be this anxious, but every time I think of Louis' tone yesterday, it makes me queasy. Maybe he won't even show up. I start to get a little worried when my phone switches to 11:05 and he still isn't here, but then I remember he used to always be late. I wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't changed at all.
A blue car pulls into the driveway at 11:08 and I bid my mom a quick goodbye before hurrying out. It's windy, and I can feel my hair being whipped around. Hopefully I won't look stupid in front of Louis. I slide into the passenger seat and turn to Louis.
"Hey," I say quietly.
"Hi," Louis replies, glancing at me. "Sorry I'm late."
I chuckle. "Louis, you're always late," I tell him. "Sorry to inform you."
Louis starts to smile, but quickly stops and bites his lip. "Some things never change, I guess," he says.
The rest of the ride to the café is silent, and I'm glad when we finally get there. Hopefully Louis will lighten up when we get inside. This is one of his favorite places to go. We choose a secluded table in the back of the café, by a window. A grinning waitress walks over and says pleasantly,
"What can I get you today?"
Louis doesn't even flinch. "One mocha frappe with extra whipped cream and one iced coffee," he says swiftly. The waitress nods and leaves.
I gape at him. "You remember what kind of coffee I always get?"
Louis' cheeks redden a bit and he looks away. "Yeah, guess I do," he says, fiddling with his napkin.
"Why did you suggest doing this?" I ask boldly. "You seemed so cold when I came to your house, so why are you doing this?"
The waitress comes back with our drinks, and Louis busies himself blowing on it to cool it down. I wait patiently.
"I realized I can't completely block you out of my life forever," he finally replies. "You were such a big part of my life for four years. I thought maybe it would make me feel less...lonely."
"You? Lonely?" I ask, shocked.
"Not lonely, more like..." Louis shakes his head and tries to backtrack. "I don't know. I didn't mean lonely. That was the wrong word to use."
"Oh," I reply, disappointed. "Have you, um, seen anyone else since we broke up?"
"No," Louis responds. "No one. You probably have, though." He sounds miserable.
"No, I haven't seen anyone since you broke up with me," I say carefully. Louis looks up, the surprise evident in his bright blue eyes. He refrains from saying anything, though. "Louis, I know you're scared of people leaving you and all," I say cautiously. "But you have to remember, you're the one who broke up with me. I'm not sure why you're acting like this."
"I'm acting like this," Louis says fiercely, "because I got attached to you. And now look at me. I'm 23 years old, and I have no idea what the hell I'm doing with my life, and I can barely focus on one thing for more than a month. Why? Because I can't get you out of my head. Four years have passed, and there isn't a day that passes where I don't think of you."
Louis buries his face in his hands and heaves a sigh. I sip my coffee and wait for him to go on, but he doesn't. When Louis is mad or upset, he'll yell and will let you know just what you did wrong or exactly what happened that made him mad. But when Louis is really mad, he won't say anything, which is almost worse.
I finish my coffee and so does Louis. "Do you want to take a walk?" I ask tentatively. Louis looks torn.
"Harry, I..." he starts to say, but I cut him off.
"Please. Even if you never talk to me again. Just take a walk with me."
Louis nods. "Okay."
We pay the bill and stroll out of the café. We walk aimlessly around town, chatting about what we've doing for the past few years. Louis is still a little reserved, but he's opening up bit by bit. Just like when I first met him.
"Louis, do you not like me anymore or something?" I ask one day in my backyard.
"Of course I like you, Harry," Louis replies, propping himself up on an elbow and looking at me quizzically. "Why would you ask me that?"
"You're just so reserved," I say. "I feel like I've told you everything about me, good and bad, but I barely know anything about you."
"I'm sorry," Louis whispers, resting his head on my chest. "Don't think for a moment that I don't like you. It just takes me a while to warm up to someone."
The doubt is still there, but it begins to subside a little.
"Will you tell me if you start to lose feelings for me?" I ask hesitantly.
"If I lose feelings for you?" he asks, gazing into my eyes with such an intensity that I can't look away.
"Yeah," I say. "If you stop liking me."
"Never," Louis says, cuddling closer to me. "I could never lose feelings for you. We'll be together forever."
"Harry? You okay?" Louis asks me, waving a hand in front of my face.
"Yeah, sorry. I'm okay," I say, but my heart is beating a mile a minute at the memory. We find a bench and sit down, watching the people go past and sitting in a silence that feels more comfortable than the silence on the way to the café.
"I'm thinking I might get a job at a school and start teaching," Louis says, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I've always loved kids."
"That would be perfect for you, Louis," I say happily. "But I'm not sure how much you're still going to love kids after you have to deal with them 24/7."
Louis laughs openly, and it's such a beautiful sound that I'm convinced he's actually an angel in disguise.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asks when he stops laughing.
"I...no reason, I mean, I don't know," I stutter.
Louis moves closer to me, and my heart skips a beat. Closer, and closer still. Is he going to kiss me? I move toward him as well and our faces are two inches apart when suddenly, Louis pulls away.
"Um, sorry Harry. See you," he says, standing up and walking briskly back to the café. I slump down on the bench and close my eyes. Of course he doesn't want to kiss me. Why would he? Apparently, I ruined his life. What he doesn't understand, though, is that he ruined mine too.