Home Is Where The Heart Is

It’s been years since Harry last saw Louis. They met in high school and they fell head over heels in love with each other. But right before they went off to college, they split up and ever since then, Harry has felt incomplete. He’s just lost his job and his landlord kicked him out of his apartment because he couldn’t pay his rent. He’s got no place to go. Harry decides to go on a journey to find Louis. After all, home is where the heart is, and Harry’s heart is forever with Louis. Copyright 2014


13. Remember When

Louis' POV

Later that night Harry and I are sitting in bed with the TV on, but we're not really watching.

"Remember when we first started dating and all of our teachers looked at us like we were committing a deadly sin?" I say suddenly, laughing a little at the memory.

"Remember the time the football coach burst in on us kissing in the bathroom?" Harry replies. "Nothing can top that."

"The look on his face!" I exclaim. "Priceless."

"It was," Harry agrees and imitates the shocked expression. I snort and almost spit out the water in my mouth.

"That was it exactly!" I respond, seizing the popcorn bowl from Harry's lap and taking a handful.

"Remember when we went on a date at a really fancy restaurant that you booked like two months in advance and the waiter spilled your chicken parmesan all over you?" Harry asks, snatching the bowl back from me triumphantly.

"God, don't remind me," I say, burying my face in my hands. "That suit was expensive and it was ruined after that."

"It was a fun date though," Harry tells me, winking. I blush a little. That was the same date that we had our first kiss.

"I can't help but agree with you there," I say. "Remember when I got in a fight with that dickhead James because he made fun of you in gym class?"

"Coincidentally the same day you got suspended," Harry says dryly.

"He didn't know what hit him," I say smugly. "I'm still proud of that, even now."

Harry laughs and shakes his head. "His nose was bleeding so bad."

"He had it coming," I reply bitterly. "What a jerk."

Harry throws a piece of popcorn at me. "I remember before you asked me out you would tease me all the time."

"I didn't know how to talk to you!" I say defensively. "You weren't much better with conversation than I was, so don't even start with me."

"How was I supposed to talk to you?" Harry inquires. "You were walking around school with your soccer posse and I felt like I couldn't even look at you."

"When did you start liking me?" I ask curiously.

Harry pauses. "I think I started liking you when we had to be lab partners in chem and we didn't get anything done because you were just making me laugh the whole time."

I smile at the memory of chem class with Harry. "God, Mrs. Harris hated us so much," I say, thinking of the old wrinkled teacher who yelled at me every chance she got.

"She didn't hate me at the beginning of the year," Harry says. "But then we became partners and she started hating me."

"So sorry," I say sarcastically. "Did I ruin your perfect rep for being such a goody goody?"

"I was most definitely not a goody goody!" Harry says, frowning at me.

"Keep telling yourself that babe," I say, taking a piece of popcorn and throwing it up in the air. I try to catch it in my mouth, but Harry swats it away.

"I hate you," I say as I try again.

"No you don't," Harry says confidently. I shrug.


"You know I used to be scared of you," Harry comments.

"Scared of me? Why?" I ask.

"Everyone of the soccer team scared me. You were all big and athletic and loud and popular."

"Yeah, cause I was big," I quip. "You're taller than me, Haz."

"Well okay, everyone else was big," Harry concedes. He pauses for a moment and then turns to me.

"Do you miss it?"

"Miss what?"


I sigh. "Honestly, a little bit. It was the only thing I was good at. I got mediocre grades in school and I wasn't in any clubs or anything. It was the only thing that got me into college."

"You're good at singing," Harry says quietly.

I make an indifferent face and shrug. "Not really. It didn't get me anywhere, now did it?"

"Louis," Harry says softly, putting his hand on my arm. "You need to have more confidence in yourself. You're one of the best singers I know. Seriously."

"I know where you're going with this," I say exasperatedly. "I'm not trying out for The Voice or anything."

"Okay, okay," Harry says. "But stop lying to yourself. You always bring yourself down and say these negative things about yourself. Just yesterday you told Sophie you were hopeless at learning different languages but you picked up on French right away, just by looking at a couple posters. You need to believe in yourself. I believe in you."

He looks so earnest, his green eyes wide with hope that I'll listen to what he just told me. "You believe in me," I repeat flatly.

He nods. "I do."

I laugh joylessly. "That's something I haven't heard in a long time."

"Louis, can I be honest with you?" Harry asks.

"Be my guest," I reply.

"I think we're all put on this earth for a reason. Whether that reason be something small, or something as big as finding a cure for cancer. There's not one person on this earth who doesn't have a purpose. And maybe you don't know what your purpose is yet, and that's okay. But do not, for one second, think that you are meaningless, worthless, or easily overlooked. Technically, it doesn't even matter if I believe in you. To accomplish things, you just need to believe in yourself."

Tears form in my eyes and I try not to let myself cry. "Harry," I say and that's all it takes before I'm crying and Harry is holding me and saying,

"Shh, Lou, it's okay. I'm here for you."

"Harry, what if I never find my purpose?" I ask quietly as my tears start to fade.

"You might never know what it is," Harry says. "But the people who knew you, the people who you helped? That's who will know."

"I'm still not trying out for The Voice."

Harry laughs. "American Idol?"


"America's Got Talent?"

"Shut up or I'll make you," I say threateningly.

"Why don't you try out for the local theater?" Harry suggests. "Much smaller and more convenient."

"I told you to stop trying," I say.

"Oooh, I'm scared, what are you gonna do?" Harry teases.

"This," I say before touching my lips to his. Harry doesn't even hesitate before kissing me back and I can tell immediately tell that this kiss is different from our other ones. There's something more urgent, more passionate, more romantic.

"Louis, I..." Harry says, starting to pull away. "Are you sure you want to do this?" I look into his eyes to find a deeper meaning. He's not talking about the kiss. He's talking about our relationship in general.

"Shut up and kiss me," I say in lieu of a yes or no answer. Harry grins and then we're kissing again. Just like we're silly, stupid, madly in love teenagers once more.



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