Burn Me Like the Sun

Harry knew I was just as angry at him as I was at Louis, or at least as close as I could get while still finding it within me to swallow back a string of expletives when I called him after Liam dropped me off at home. Louis was right about one thing: he was meeting with Giles while Liam and I dropped by – for what reason exactly, he didn’t go into detail. When I told him what had happened, that Louis answered the door and came inches from his life the second he laid eyes on me, Harry was quick to apologize.

“Why are you apologizing?” I asked quietly, peering around the doorway into the living room, where Fran was doing coursework at the breakfast table. She’d excused herself after she handed me her mobile, but it wouldn’t have surprised me if she’d been keeping an ear trained towards the kitchen this whole time.

“I came home after dropping you off, and I had your mobile in my hand, and I passed by his room to get to mine, and he was already home, you see, and he was still awake, so—”

“He knew?” I bit down hard on my knuckle and closed my eyes. “Oh my god, of course he did. He was just using it as an excuse to see me, wasn’t he?”

“I left it in the kitchen and told him to give it to you if you stopped by.” He sighed, clearly frustrated. “I honestly didn’t expect you to, though. I was gonna give you a ring last night but I didn’t want to bother you so soon after… After…”

“You can say it,” I told him. “Means nowt to me.”

That was a lie.

“Fine, then. After that idiot proved just how much of an insensitive asshat he can be.”

I chuckled weakly. “Basically.”

“Did you want me to bring it over tomorrow? I can stop by in the morning. You don’t have class, do you?”

“World cinema, but I won’t be leaving until half nine.” I briefly recalled the radio interview that I’d heard in Val’s van on the way to lunch a few weeks ago, and hastily added, “Think you can make it that early? It’s just, I know you’re not much of a morning person.”

Harry made a noise, and there was some shuffling on the other end. “I’ll be there at nine, I promise.”

But the next morning, 9:00 came and went, and Harry still hadn’t shown up on my doorstep.

I was slumped over a soggy bowl of cereal, my eyes glazed over as I stared at the telly at the other side of the living room as it played a string of commercials. Fran had been busy getting ready all morning for a meeting with her academic advisor for her research project. Admittedly, I couldn’t exactly blame her for taking her time, as Professor Silas was astoundingly, ruggedly, I’d-risk-getting-expelled-with-mounds-of-debt-on-my-shoulders-just-to-take-a-peek-in-the-washroom handsome. And I didn’t want to get in her way, either, as she was known to get pissed if she was bothered when trying to apply eyeliner while on a caffeine rush without messing up. Add in the fact that I couldn’t be arsed to peel myself from the wicker chair, as the sunlight that seeped through the blinds made me want to curl up on the carpet like a cat and soak it all in, and I never bothered calling Harry to see what was taking him so long.

My automatic guess was that he was still asleep in his bed, but the truth knocked on my door just minutes before I had to leave when I went to dump my leftover cereal in the sink.

I laughed humorlessly and shook my head, as there was nothing even remotely funny about the sight that greeted me, Louis leaning against the doorjamb and chewing on the pad of his thumb. I was just about to slam the door right in his face, but just as I moved to close the door, he held it open with one hand and shoved the rest of his weight behind it, getting his shoulder and half his torso through the doorway before I could even properly react.

“You’re so fucking predictable!” I seethed, struggling to force the door closed.

He whined when the edge of the door nicked him in the ribs, a frown pulling at his lips. What a shame, as I was just inches away from being able to dent his skull and give him the proper concussion he deserved. “Oi, watch it, you mad girl! I can’t breathe!”

“Good!” I shoved again, eliciting a satisfying wince from Louis, followed by a strangled yelp. “How in the hell did you even get in? I didn’t even buzz you up,” I all but screeched, thrusting the door forward one more time. But it was too late, as he’d somehow gotten his foot past the entryway. The door bounced back against the toe of his trainers before I could even properly clip his shoulder. “And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve taken the ‘all wankers welcome’ sign off my door because shite like you keeps stopping by.”

“Your neighbor Cunningham let me in,” he wheezed as the doorknob nailed him near his belt. I readied myself for another shove, squaring my shoulders and gripping the doorknob with both hands, but Louis rammed it back with his shoulder. When he squeezed himself inside, I stumbled back, nearly making a Blake-shaped hole in the thin plaster wall behind me. “I’ve brought you your mobile. No need to shoot the messenger.”

“Who said anything about shooting?” I grunted, slamming the door shut behind him, hard enough that he jumped. “I like to keep my options open.”

He chuckled unsteadily as he ducked his head and made his way into the kitchen uninvited, shoving his hands into his pockets as he sauntered forward. I was just about to follow when I spotted Fran peeking her head out from the loo, her eyebrows pinched in curiosity. I waved her off and rolled my eyes, then warily trailed behind Louis, my arms crossed as I eyed him from a distance.

Aside from the skirmish that had jolted me awake and wrinkled his clothes, Louis looked shockingly normal – so normal, that he actually looked put together, a stark opposite from what I saw yesterday. His hair was fashioned into a careful side part and he looked like he actually took his time getting ready before he came over, as the sleeves of his t-shirt were neatly rolled up and ironed, and his watchband actually matched his belt.

“I can see your cooker’s still broken,” he pointed out, messing with the plug to the hotplate I’d dug out and set up next to the toaster.

I scoffed, crossing the kitchen and yanking the plug from his hands. “Of course it is, no thanks to you.”

Louis looked at me over his shoulder, his eyebrows shooting up, then circled around the island, leaning against the sink as he slid his hands into his pockets. He looked quite comfortable, so of course it annoyed me.

“Never mind that,” I snapped, twisting around and crossing my arms as I leaned against the cooker. “Why are you here? And where the fuck is Harry? He told me he was going to be here at nine.”

He blinked owlishly, not even phased by my hot words. “I convinced him to let me bring back your mobile.”

I laughed bitterly. “I don’t know how you got him to go along with it. Did you pout a little, maybe flutter your eyelashes until he gave in? Must have taken a lot of effort,” I bit out, taking a short stride across the kitchen until I stood across from Louis on the opposite side of the island. “At least you asked first.”

His expression, which had been bordering on cheeky, suddenly fell. “Stop,” he pleaded, his voice crumbling as he looked off to the side, not even meeting my gaze.

“I’ll stop once you leave,” I told him, concentrating hard on not letting my voice break as it rose. “Now where’s my mobile? I’m already running late to my lecture as it is.”

He reached around and dug into his back pocket, finally procuring my flip phone. He twisted it between his fingers, taking his time with it. I could feel my blood boil faster than water, and my cheeks heated up as I started to tap my foot. I didn’t get impatient easily, but Louis always made it effortless.

“Do you need a ride?” he offered, suddenly chancing a look at me.

I steeled myself, darting my eyes to the island, then reached over, snatching my mobile from his hands before he could tease me any longer. “If I were any better at speed walking, Met would’ve given me a bloody scholarship.” I scoffed, shoving my mobile into my pocket. “I’m not a child, Lou.”

“Well, if you’re already running late, you wouldn’t turn down a ride, now, would you?”

“If bloody Hades showed up on my doorstop right now in a hellhound-drawn carriage made out of human skulls, I’d let him drop me off before I even so much as entertained the idea of being cooped up with you in that god-awful purple car of yours.”

I circled around the island and headed straight for the settee, snatching up my rucksack as Louis followed, his footsteps echoing mine.

“I won’t so much as say a word, I promise.”

I ignored the pleading look he shot me, brushing around him as I made a beeline for the kitchen. I reached for the coffeepot and my thermos, concentrating on my shaking hands as I tried to pour my coffee without spilling it everywhere.

“It’s quicker if I take you. Not to mention, it’s fucking hot today. Seriously, like, it feels like Satan farted outside. I actually sweated a little on my walk up the stairs.”

My face puckered, and I twisted around him, trying to ignore the fact that he smelled the exact opposite of sweaty and gross and more like ginger and sugar and mint toothpaste.

“Please, Blake, just let me do you this favor.”

“I’m not looking for favors,” I got out through gritted teeth as I careened into the corridor. “And if you’re so keen on doing me a favor, then you can leave me the fuck alone,” I told him, glancing at him over my shoulder as I reached for my keys inside my pocket.

He glanced at his trainers and rubbed his lips together as I finally fished out my key ring. “Would you…” He sighed, then looked up, his expression crumbling with regret. “Would you change your mind if I promised to leave you alone?”

I stared at Louis expectantly, sure he’d take it all back the second I’d so much as even open my mouth to respond. But he just stood there, the tips of his ears pink as he stared back, his jaw set and his eyes locked with mine.

“Yes,” I finally answered, my voice barely latching onto the stale air between us.

His eyebrows shrunk together and he finally tore his gaze from me, instead aiming it towards the ground where I could only guess the splintered remains of his heart had landed.

“I’m parked downstairs,” he croaked. He reached out for the doorknob, his hand brushing mine, and let himself out, not bothering to check if I’d follow him.

I did.

The ride was queasily quiet and unfamiliarly awkward, two things that never described the time I’d spent alone with Louis. Like he promised, he hadn’t spoken a word, not even when he jumped a little in his seat when I yanked on the door handle until he realized I was actually coming along and unlocked it. He hadn’t offered to turn on the radio, to adjust the air conditioning, or offered me a piece of gum like he always would. He stayed silent the entire time, the one time I actually couldn’t bear it.

The sun had been popping out increasingly more in the last couple of weeks, as spring was finally settling in. But inside Louis’s car, with his heavily tinted, paparazzi-proof windows, it felt like any other rainy day. Even though I’d only ridden in his gaudy car a handful of times, the paparazzi never felt like a threat when I was hidden behind the windows next to Louis as he carefully drove, his hand always lazily draped over the stick shift.

It was all I could think about now, hidden from the sun when all I wanted was to spend the day in Highbury Fields or go for a swim, as it was finally hot enough outside to actually entertain the idea.

“How do you even handle the paparazzi?” I finally burst out, cringing to myself as I glanced at Louis’s reaction.

He flinched at the sound of my voice breaking through the silence that had draped every inch of his car like dust. “I, uh… I don’t know. I mean, I guess I don’t.” He shrugged. “I let them at it.”

“And then sometimes you use them as well,” I egged on, running my fingers over the strap of my rucksack.

“Well… yeah. It happens, I guess.”

“Like to make Vic jealous?” I suggested boldly.

His mouth flopped open like he had stuck his fingers into a wall socket. “No! No, it was to make her angry, not—Jesus, not jealous.” He sighed, shaking his head a little as he downshifted. The car slowed, and I could feel the gears grinding in the engine in front of me like Louis’s words as they grated my ears.

“You… You weren’t trying to make her jealous?”

He sucked on his teeth, then once the car lurched to a stop at a red light, he turned to face me. “I don’t want Vic back. I only wanted to piss her off, maybe stain her reputation a little if it seemed like I was already dating someone else. It’s ridiculous how much she cares what other people think.” He sucked on his lower lip, studying my blank reaction. I was still trying to wrap my head around everything when he went on. “I got the idea when we first went out for coffee. I may have—no, no, no.” He shook his head, glancing off to the side and checking on the stop light. “No. I’ll be honest, I-I made it easy for the paps to follow me when I visited you at work after you left me that message on me mobile. But the only time I ever used them was when I tipped off one of them about Forbidden Planet.”

I clenched my jaw, biting back whatever insult was creeping up as he continued.

“I thought that you might enjoy the paparazzi’s attention. Or at least come to like it,” he admitted, gripping the wheel tighter as the light turned green.

I scoffed, outrage unhinging my jaw. “If that's what you thought, then you obviously never knew me!” I slumped back into my seat like a petulant child, my arms crossed. “You’ve been using me since day one, so I don’t know what to expect anymore.”

“But that’s exactly what I’ve been trying to do this entire time!” he shot back heatedly. I was starting to regret breaking the silence. “Why do you think I snuck into your room? Why do you think I begged you to tell me about your mum? Why do you think I’ve been trying so hard to be your mate, Blake? You’ve barely opened up to me, but when you do, there’s hardly anything to go off of.” He grunted, shaking his head dolefully. “You’re so closed off all the time and it drives me mad.”

“Then why don’t you just give up?” I challenged, twisting in my seat so I could face him. “It would make things a hell of a lot easier for the both of us.”

“B-because!” he sputtered. He groaned, throwing back his head and letting it bounce against his seat. I could hear the screech of skin against plastic as his grip tightened on the wheel, and his knuckles started to turn pale. “You mean too much to me to give up!”

Thank god Louis was driving, because if I had been the one behind the wheel, I would have steered us straight into the nearest lamppost and saved myself a lot of embarrassment by just killing the both of us straight off, and simply out of pure shock. My spine turned into liquid, and I slumped forward, my elbows digging into my knees as I gripped my head in my hands.

Clearly I had never taken our friendship as seriously as he did, despite the fact that he’d used me. It took a lot for me to open up, but even then, I barely let him in – and all the while, he was an open book. He worked for my friendship, but I never did. The thing was, I thought he would leave – I always did – and when he didn’t, I kept pushing him until he would. And I would keep doing it, no matter what, because I couldn’t trust him. I was sick. And that realization hurt the worst. And that sudden swell of guilt piled itself on my chest like a boulder, pushing the air out of my lungs before I could even take a single breath.

It took a moment, but I finally spoke.

“Pull over.”

He paused as he slid his hands to the bottom of the steering wheel. I could feel his stare, hotter than hell itself, burn through my skin.

“You shouldn’t feel guilty,” he offered weakly, his voice careful and quiet. “For anything. I never even gave you a reason to trust me.”

I scoffed, watching him as he cautiously pulled over. It clearly didn’t matter that he couldn’t pry me open when he could tell what I was thinking with just a look. He pulled up in front of a thrift shop, just a couple of blocks from where I knew Tower Building would be. I’d be able to find my way to the lecture hall and still have a chance to make it on time. In the least, I wouldn’t have to worry about facing pucker-arsed, punctual Lassiter if I stumbled in late while red-faced and gasping for air, as my World Cinema professor actually took a liking to me after a free-for-all discussion we had the first week of term.

“The hell I shouldn’t feel guilty.” I gathered my rucksack in my lap and reached over for the door, giving Louis one last fleeting look before I mumbled, “But it still doesn’t change the fact that I do.”

I think in my haste to distance myself as far away from Louis as possible, I somehow managed to arrive early to my lecture. People were still filing inside the hall as my professor messed with the projector, her glasses slipping down her nose every couple of seconds, so I shimmied behind chairs and settled into a seat near the middle, taking my time to catch my breath and gather my things and go over the notes I’d taken last class.

But the first thing I did was pull out my mobile from my pocket, knowing that with my luck, it’d go off five times in the middle of the lecture before I’d even get a chance to shut it off. I flipped it open, expecting some new messages from the past two days – from my mum, Fran, Louis, Liam, Val, really anyone – but nothing popped up. Frustrated, I went through my texts anyway, as I trusted my mobile almost as much as I trusted Louis, and a mysteriously dropped text or call weren’t all that uncommon. But then there they were: a text each from Niall and Zayn, a missed call from Liam, and three new texts from my mum as well, all in the past two days.

And all of them had been read.