Time Isn't on My Side

It's the feeling of blinding white that covers his eyes as he looks in front of him, watching the girls dancing in their pretty pink dresses as they spin around majestically to a beat that he can't seem to hear. Louis doesn't really know where he is, or what he's doing there, but all of this doesn't feel the way it should.

It's all distorted, he can see the people around him, with their tuxes and their hats, with their loud happy laughter that tries to penetrate Louis, to make him feel better, but fails. Even so, he can't see their faces. They're washed over, like a painter had given up on the pieces in the background, leaving the colours on their faces to blend together until they are utterly unrecognisable.

This is enough for Louis to realise that this is all a dream, that it can't be anything else but his imagination making up a place such as this. With this knowledge in mind, he steps forward, milling his way through the crowd as the voices begin to get louder, and he can vaguely feel hands pulling him, girls asking him whether he wants to dance. He doesn't say a word and keeps on walking, to where, he has no clue. It's like his feet have a mind of their own.

He stops in his tracks, eyes feeling like they're too big for his sockets as he struggles to look ahead. Not because he needs his glasses or anything, but because what he's seeing is too much to bear. And now, he knows that this dream has suddenly turned into the worst nightmare he could ever have dreamed up.

Harry. God, he was sure his heart had finally stopped its treacherous beating. Because in that second, he was struggling to breathe, struggling to keep a smile on his face when his...when Harry looked over at him like that. A girl was on his shoulder, and Louis suspected that she must have been Autumn, because she was the only one in the room who was wearing such an elaborate white dress. Louis knows he has to say something, he can't just stand there looking terrified when his used to be best friend is right there and he has the opportunity now to fix things (however, not completely, because that act is impossible.)

Harry, too, is expecting him to do something, he's frowning at him, his eyes turning a shade darker and he fears that Harry stills resents him for all that happened. It takes a while for Louis's breathing to calm down, for his heart to make those same noises once again. And he's taking a shaky step forward, forcing the tiniest of smiles to spread across his face, yet, it doesn't reach his eyes, it can't. He knows that Harry can tell that this smile is undoubtedly fake.

When he's there, right opposite Harry and to Autumn's left, he finds himself only simply staring at Harry Styles. His eyes are transfixed on that beauty, and even though his wife does look gorgeous, Harry's the only one that Louis sees, he's the only one who he sees as the most beautiful in the room, heck, even in this goddamned world. And, oh god, his wife. That's what she is now. The ceremony must be over, and now, they're here together. Harry's hands entangled with hers when it should be Louis.

It takes Louis another second for him to stop himself from going crazy, for him to realize that this is still a dream. None of this is happening, none of this is real. He glances around him, and now the faces that were once blurred and inconceivable are now crystal clear. And that fact frightens him. He's forgotten though, that he hasn't even said anything to Harry, not even one single word. Luckily, it's Harry who does instead, and the sound of his voice takes Louis's breath away.

"It's nice to see you again, Louis," Harry tells him, and his smile is actually reaching his eyes, which are sparkling with so much happiness that it makes Louis want to be sick.

No, hearing him say his full name like that felt weird. It didn't have any attachment to it, he wasn't saying it like he would to a best friend, or even just a friend, and definitely not with the love and care he had when they were together, when the word 'Louis' was the most tenderest sound in the world. Now, it felt foreign and the way Harry said it made Louis feel like had become nothing to Harry, just a piece of his past which he didn't care for any more.

Louis won't get upset though, he won't let himself do that. He tries so hard to keep his hands still, his fingernails digging into his palms as he forgets about the pain, physical and emotional. It's all part of him moving on, it's all part of letting Harry go.

He nods, and wonders whether he should shake his hand because how else is he supposed to get through this situation. "You too."

Harry's smile has dropped from his face over the space of time that Louis had managed to squeak out a response. He's looking around the room, scanning over his guests until his eyes are back on Louis once again.

"How's Eleanor?" Maybe this wasn't supposed to be said with discontent, but that's all that Louis could hear in these words. They were a perfect way to sum up everything that happened, for Louis to know that in some ways Harry still hated him.

He'd almost forgotten about Eleanor, and right now, he really wished he had completely. "I don't know," is all he says, and Harry raises his eyebrows in a way that feels like he's mocking him even if he's only curious.

"Shame," Harry shrugs, "I'd have liked to have seen her again."

Louis knows that's a lie, it couldn't be anything else but a lie.

He notices, finally, that Harry's wife hasn't said a word the whole time and instead her eyes seem to be lifeless, a trickle of gold running down her face until it disappears onto the floor.

-

Louis feels the aching pain first jetting down his spine, making him groan as he rolls onto his stomach, examining the damage at hand. A bed is too his left, and from what he can deduce from that, he can only say one thing: he must have fallen off it. He shakes his head, pulling himself back up as he looks around the room he's in, and then it finally clicks in.

From everything that has been happening, he doesn't know what is real and what is simply a dream. The nightmare he had before and the one where he had thought he had gone back in time felt so real, yet, they couldn't be. However, this room is what unsettled him the most. First of all, this wasn't his bedroom, and second of all, there was someone else inside of this place.

And how did he know that? Because someone was humming a tune, a very pretty tune though, might he add. He knew for certain it wasn't Eleanor, because Eleanor didn't sound like that (well, not like a man, at least) and he was sure he left Zayn to his own devices after they had caught up. His mind drifted off immediately to thinking that it was a burglar, but that thought was ridiculous.

If it was a burglar, why the hell was he making himself known this easily? Besides, he couldn't see a burglar humming on the job. However, he wanted to know. So he grabbed whatever hard that came to hand (you know, just in case) as he made his way slowly towards the humming, his hand reaching out for the door handle as he thrust it open. What he saw nearly created a mini heart attack.

"Jesus christ, Lou! I told you I'd be done in two seconds," the curly haired boy looked at him curiously, "And why are you carrying that lamp shade?"

Louis's eyes went from the lamp in his right hand to Harry, scantily clad in absolutely nothing. In other words, he was naked.

It's not like that was what made Louis act next. He had seen Harry naked plenty of times (plenty of really good times, may he add) but that wasn't the point. Seeing Harry like this wasn't something that happened regularly anymore, so he was taken a little off guard. So that's probably why he started acting like a complete blubbering - and blushing - idiot.

"Why the hell are you here and why are you naked?" he covers his eyes with the back of his hand, as a way to be polite and not stare at Harry any longer.

"I was going to have a shower but someone interrupted. And why are you acting like that. You've seen me naked plenty of times," Louis could almost see the smirk appearing on Harry's lips after the younger boy said this - Louis was sure his heart was about to bounce right out of his chest.

Yes, he had seen him naked. But that was in different circumstances. Right now, he didn't know how to deal with himself or why Harry and him were even in the same space at all, let alone talking to one another.

Before he can stop himself, he's speaking his mind. "But you hate me, you left me."

He's peering through the gaps between his fingers and he gives a sigh of relief when he notices that Harry's got a towel around his waist now. He drops his hand to his side, watching a confused expression cross the other boy's face.

"What are you talking about? Why would I ever hate you? You know I love you, man. I'm your best friend," he peers at Louis, leaning forward, "Did that fall damage your brain, or something?"

And then it's all flooding back to him, that weird photo booth, falling down the stairs and waking up in a place that certainly had to be the past. So this is what this was, and taking another look at Harry Styles over there proved to him that this one wasn't a dream at all and that this was the Harry from seven years ago.

Louis opens his mouth to speak, "I feel like I'm going to faint."

"Oh, come on. Don't faint," and it's kind of too late because Louis's already out cold.