Time Isn't on My Side

If you're counting, then it has already been the second time that Louis has blacked out in awhile, except Louis isn't counting, he's mostly freaking out about this whole thing. When he wakes up from having fainted, the first thing he remembers was what happened in the bathroom and he blushes at the thought of it.

At that moment in time, Harry walks in, this time he's fully dressed, his hair however still looking damp with little droplets clinging to his hair for dear life. He's wearing a shirt that somehow Louis recognizes, and he supposes that at this stage the two of them still shared clothes like it was nothing. However, Louis knows full well that everything he did for Harry meant at least something. But it seemed that most of the time Harry had no clue about what Louis was feeling inside.

Harry gives him a small smile from across the room as he approaches, and all Louis wants to do is choke himself with the pillow that is behind his head. He doesn't understand this, he doesn't even know how to understand this.

From what he knows, he's twenty-six, and living somewhat peacefully but away from Harry and the others. He's not the nineteen year old who was head over heels for his band-mate, yet, couldn't do anything about it. He doesn't even want to relive that, because he knows that when he goes back (if he goes back) he'll no longer have Harry like that, let alone as a friend.

The idea of it makes him cringe, and he sinks back into the duvet, hands clutching onto the quilt like he's about to be dragged into it. Harry doesn't notice the unease from his friend, and despite Louis's inner pleadings for him to please go away, he sits on the base of the bed, handing over a cup of tea for him.

Louis stares at it like it's got poison in it, but he knows it's still that normal Yorkshire brew spinning around in the mug. That's all it is and thinking it could possibly be anything else is downright stupid. He's still apprehensive, either way, as he reaches out for the tea, taking it in both of his hands as he looks down at it unsure.

For some reason, he can't trust this Harry. He's trying to work out whether the Harry is front of him is real or just a figment of his imagination. Everything has been so warped that he can no longer tell the difference. Louis sets the tea down after one sip, his eyes glancing at Harry's green ones, the ones that he has marked into his own mind. If this was reality, then reality was cruel.

"Are you alright now?" Harry asks him, concern written all over his face.

No, he's not. He doesn't know what's happening or how to deal with anything and all he can see right now is that bright bright bright color of gold illuminating his surroundings, taking his mind over until he's wondering whether he has a shred of sanity left in him.

But he doesn't say any of this. All he can do is nod.

Harry grins at this, "Good. I was worried that you might have lost some brain cells from the fall earlier." He reaches out towards him, his intentions only to pat him lightly on the shoulder, but Louis flinches away in response, not knowing exactly why he's doing it in the slightest. Harry stops midway, frowns, and sits back, staring at Louis in confusion.

Louis knows deep down that was rude but he has no longer the right to be touched by Harry, after what he did. Although, he knows that this is the past and Harry is still young and naive, not knowing what will soon befall the two of them in the future. Louis's curious to one thing, he doesn't know what date it is, only that the year is possibly 2012 or even 2013, but he doesn't want to seem weird and ask.

"Are you still mad at me for what I said earlier?" Harry questions him, leaning closer and trying to break down the barrier that Louis has built up.

Of course, Louis doesn't know quite what he means. The two of them didn't have that many fights in the past, possibly a few spats here and there, so at that moment in time all he can do is stare back at him, mouth a little open and stuck with no words to say.

It's obvious that he isn't mad at Harry, but that's because he's not really the Louis that Harry knows. He's the one with more experience, he knows what will happen to their futures and where they will all go. But telling Harry any of that is pointless but he wants to tell him, wants to say that he's not the 19-year-old that Harry knows. He's almost an impostor.

He doesn't go with telling him the truth, because from what he knows the truth doesn't always bring about the best situations. So instead he says this, "No, I'm not. I'm not mad at you. I just..." And that curiosity is back and writhing through him, he decides against his better judgement to ask this question because it's been bugging him for far too long now. "What day is it anyway?"

"The 12th," Harry answers, eyebrows narrowing at this question, but he doesn't say anything - not yet, anyway.

"What's the month?" Louis asks again, testing his luck.

It's at this point that Harry's hand reaches out to Louis's forehead, forgetting that last time he tried to touch him Louis hadn't responded the way he should have. "Are you sure you're okay? You sure are acting weird."

And then Louis makes himself a promise, for now, he won't tell Harry about this. He won't tell him that he somehow (although he hasn't figured out yet how he ended up here in the first place) managed to travel back in time to the time when they were all still in the band and on their way to stardom. Yeah, he's going to keep quiet. For now, he's going to try and be like the Louis that Harry wants, that the others need. And maybe sooner or later he'll find answers.

He finished his tea, standing up and taking a quick look around the room. He walks to the curtains, opening them slightly as he squints, the sun blinding him. Outside are the streets of New York, and now he knows that he must be in a hotel somewhere in the city. So far, that's all he can understand about it.

"I'm okay," he lies, "I have a bit of a throbbing headache from that fall, but I'm okay."

-

Louis learns soon after that the boy's have put him on house arrest, which of course, he's not very happy about. If he's going to relive the last seven years of his life, he doesn't want to spend the start of it stuck in a hotel room, no matter who he has for company. Before Harry can pull him back to bed, he's out into their little mini kitchen.

He sees Niall by the toaster, watching it expectantly for the pieces to pop out any second now. He sees Zayn by the couch, his eyes closed as he listens to some music. And then before he knows it, Liam appears in front of him (which sort of freaks him out because he really did just appear from nowhere) and gives him a look that clearly says: what are you doing out of bed? Louis tries to smile at him, but the smile fades when he feels Harry's hand grabbing him from behind.

"You need to get some rest, Lou, you hit your head pretty hard," he insists, but Louis doesn't like this at all.

"I said I was okay, I'm bored, and I want to get out of here."

It's then that Zayn speaks up from his space on the couch. "We're all bored but we're supposed to be looking after you. We don't want you to faint like a girl again." He smirks at this, chuckling at Louis's astounded expression.

"Hey!" he exclaims rushing over to him to get his revenge but he was stopped - again.

"Get to bed, Louis. You can go out when you're no longer stumbling around," Liam warns him and Louis finds himself unable to argue.

Okay, so he feels a little unstable on his feet but that's not surprising considering he randomly showed up here after being pushed into the past. (And literally he was pushed, he was sure of it.) The only one out of all of the boys that he had seen recently was Zayn, but it wasn't like he could help considering that none of these boys were going through the same dilemma as he was.

A pop came from the other side of the room, breaking the silence, as Niall cheers

"But I don't want to. I told you I'm fine. Why won't any of you listen to me?" And now Louis feels a little lost and out of place in this world he's been thrown into. He's surprised at himself for not just going along with Liam's order, but then again he's feeling a little different.

He forgets the fact that all this time Harry's hand has hold of his own wrist, because it almost feels natural, that simple touch that is inked into his own skin. When he realizes this, thoughts of the time when they were together plague his mind and then he's back to thinking how he's supposed to try and fix this all. Heck, he doesn't even know what he's doing here. All he wants is answers, that's all he wants.

"Because Harry said you fainted again, and we don't want you doing that again," Liam tries to argue with him again, and Louis discovers he's really not in the mood at all for fighting.

"Well that was because he -" he stops mid sentence before he says what's on his mind and tells them all why he really fainted that second time. He blushes a deep and noticeable scarlet, stuttering until he turns back around and runs back up the stairs.

If Harry knew what was going on in his mind, he didn't know what he'd do. In some ways, he wanted him to know but what if it was better that neither of them discovered their feelings for one another? If that happened then the future would be different, they'd still be best friends. Wasn't that for the best? He didn't know how to answer his own question, maybe that might be for the best but the idea of Harry never discovering his love for Louis completely terrified him. He might be a tad selfish, but he didn't want to go through with unrequited love forever.

He sighs, approaching his room. However, he stops in his tracks when he notices something very odd about it. Light is spilling out of the cracks in the bottom of the door and the sides, but it isn't just normal daylight, it's bright gold spreading out and reaching out for him. He knows that light, he knows it anywhere.

He grabs the door handle, bursting it open as the door suddenly shut behind him, a click of a lock in the background making him realize that maybe his curiosity had really got the best of him this time. The lights blink off and on, the gold light covering every object in the room until it becomes almost blinding and Louis finds himself covering his eyes with the fear that they might burst out if he didn't.

The next thing he knows the light has all gone out, and he is left in a room of black - a room that seems to go on forever. He knows now that he's no longer in the hotel, he couldn't be. But the sight of what is in front of him freaks him out to the extreme. He doesn't believe in stuff like this usually, but now what he is seeing made him rethink everything.

"Who are you?" he asks, his voice echoing in every direction. Something hovers in the distance, approaching closer but all he can see is an outline of black smog. He thinks of running, but he doesn't know where he'd run off to. Besides, his legs seem to be disobeying him at this point as he can't seem to move at all. So he decides to be brave and face whatever it is in front of him.

The gold light seems to be spilling from whatever is moving in front of him, it's swirling around the ground, dissolving slowly until the creature is standing in front of him, closer than he wants it to be. He now sees a hand, a dainty hand that points at him and he's sure he can see a bright emerald shining back at him from the space that should be eyes. Yet, he can't see anything else. Only a man (possibly) covered in black cloak.

"Does that matter?" the creature answers for him, and his voice is of a beautiful quality, echoing in his ears and making him feel elevated. He's almost distrusted by this mere fact, but he's sure that this person - or whatever it is in front of him - has something to do with his time-traveling trip. He wanted answers and here was someone that could give them to him, but he felt like he couldn't barely talk.

"Yes," he stutters, trying to stop himself from shaking, "How the hell did I get here? Because time-travelling isn't a usual occurrence."

"Wasn't that your wish? You wanted Harry Styles, you wanted to fix everything and go back to the beginning. You wanted to make sure you'd never hurt him."

Louis's mind goes immediately back to that arcade, to that booth with the golden seats and the screen glaring back at him with the name Harry Styles written boldly all over it.

"How do you know any of that?" he questions, and in response he can hear laughter, harmonic and calming, yet, it feels somehow familiar. He can't put his finger on it - but he knows that laughter - he knows it well.

"I know what you want and here's your chance to get it. You have to change the past to change the future, you have a month to do so."

And with that, that gold light suddenly appears from every direction and the darkness that has engulfed the room began to disappear. He sees the figure blending into the background, the cloak that covered it unveiled until he can see a shadow of two wings, high and mighty before they, and the figure, disappeared.

He had green eyes. That's all Louis could remember.