LOUIS / PAST

We were in London just after a sold out show at the Koko. But I was so tired we could have been anywhere. We'd been traveling around Europe for six weeks with only a short break in The Alps.

After the gig, they brought the cars 'round. We were rarely home but when in London Zayn and I shared a flat. I was about to get into his car when he stopped me. "Sorry mate, I'm not going home, I promised an old friend from Birmingham I'd come to his house party. Can you ride with Harry?"

Liam and Niall lived in separate flats across town and Harry lived just a few blocks away from me on his own.

Harry climbed into his car, ignoring the throng of girls our bodyguards kept at bay.

I climbed into his car without asking and he didn't protest.

I tapped the driver on the shoulder, "Drop him off first. He's closer."

Harry had managed to get quite a bit of sun while we were in Spain. Sweat trickled down his tanned neck and onto his collarbone. I looked away.

"Good show," he said.

"You were alright."

He brightened. "Really? I had trouble hearing myself in spots. Was worried I was a bit flat."

"You weren't flat."

Harry swiveled his whole body around to face me. I could feel the warmth radiating from his body like a halo. Even though he was a sweaty mess from the performance he smelled like flowers and honey. I really needed him to get out of this car.

"I miss France," he said dreamily. "Rolling his head on the seat of the cab."

"You were quite popular at the chalet."

"Was I?"

"Oh, come off it. I saw that girl leaving your room."

"Did you see the train of girls that left Zayn's room?"

"I—Zayn's Zayn."

"And I'm me. It wasn't a one-night stand. We exchanged numbers. We've been texting. See."

He held out his phone.

"Fabulous."

The car veered around a corner and I pretended to spot something interesting outside.

"I didn't see you talking to any girls and that one girl from Norway was practically throwing herself at you."

"I was drunk and not in the mood."

He nodded and looked down at his phone frowning.

"One thing I wish," Harry said, "was that I had taken more pictures. I told that French girl I would send her pics of us in Marsaille—that's her hometown—but I must have accidentally deleted them."

"What a tragedy," I yawned.

We were nearing Harry's building and I alerted the driver to a shortcut I knew.

"Gimme your phone. I wanna see if you got any shots in front of that water fountain thingy."

Before I had a chance to say no, Harry's hand dove into my pocket and fished out my phone.

"Give it back," I hollered.

"No, I just want to see your France pics. I don't care if you have like a zillion selfies."

I did not have a zillion selfies. What was on my phone was much, MUCH worse and I absolutely could not under any circumstances let him see.

I grabbed his arm to try and pry the phone out of his hand but he had turned around and curled into a ball so I couldn't get to him. I undid my seatbelt to launch myself over to the other side of the car when the driver barked at us to stop roughhousing. "I'll toss you both out on the street! I don't care who you are!"

It was too late anyway. Harry was scrolling through my photos. He saw everything. He knew everything. And I watched the realization spread across his face with each passing second.

He handed back the phone. "The pictures. They're all of me."

I stuffed the phone back in my breast pocket, my heart hammering in my chest.

Each photo was a painstaking documentation of every inch of him, from his pillowy lips, to his clear green eyes, the nape of his neck, and the curve of his thighs. We were traveling the world but every place we stopped in, every statue, every church disappeared next to him.

I didn't know what kind of reaction to expect from him. I didn't want to know. Thankfully the band was about to embark on a two-week break. Maybe this whole thing would blow over by the time we were back on the road.

"This is you," I said as the car stopped.

Harry pressed his lips together in deep thought. "Louis, I didn't know."

"Well, now you do. It's stupid. I'm stupid. Just forget about it."

But Harry wouldn't get out.

"Leave!" I yelled.

Harry got out of the car without taking his eyes off me. He stood on the curb as I drove away into the rainy London night.

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