AS THE WATER trickles down my back and pools at my fee, slowly coursing down the drain, I find myself caught in the middle of a memory. Now it feels like a world unknown, like it was lifetimes ago. However, my mind likes to play tricks and I am forced to realize that it had been just a few lousy months since everything ended.

Every night it felt as though electricity was running through every vein of my body -- of my being. My heart felt like a bird trapped in a cage, begging and wishing to be set free. My legs felt as tight and tired as rubber, but they continued to carry me across the stage as I finished my solo, the entire crowd singing along. I felt more alive then than I had ever felt before, because I was unstoppable. I was on top of the world.

Every night when I settled into bed with him beside me, I knew that life couldn't get any better. I knew that this was the life I was meant to live--the fame, the glory, the feeling of the bass pounding against my body wasn't going to last.

In this moment right now, it feels as though I am living in the pits of hell, maybe even the Devil's asshole, really. One second I had everything, the next I was lucky enough to even have him.

I can hear the door gently open then close, and I can catch a glimpes of the shower curtain moving as he steps into the tub with me. I finally feel his arms wrap around my waist and he pulls me closer to him. I feel the warmth of his breath against my ear as he says, "you've been in here a while." Then he takes a hand and rubs it up and down my wet side, trying to get me to relax for just a half-second. "You need to stop over thinking things, babe." He leaves a kiss on the base of my neck and then rests his head on my shoulder. He tries to hum something soothing, but it ends up being one of the old songs we used to sing on stage together and that only makes me think more.

His curls are getting wet and are beginning to stick to his face when I turn to face him, and I like that look on him. I like it when we take showers together; we haven't done it in a while. We've both been over worked, tired from show after show. It feels strange to be able to sit down and take a break to either talk or kiss or show any sort of affection.

He kisses my forehead after I go in to hug him. We're standing insanely close to each other and just the proximity makes me realize that we'd finally be able to do this -- this relationship thing -- after years of lies and gimics and so many other made up rumors. We'd finally have a chance to be completely honest with ourselves and the world, yet I am still caught because none of this feels real and it's as if I'm living a dream and I just want something to wake me up so I can stop tricking myself into believing something that will never happen.

"I wish you'd say something about what's going on," he said.

His voice is soothing and heavy and it reminds me of all the nights we spent together in bed. We were hot, sticky from sweat and cum, but we didn't mind; we were comfortable that way. However, we could never talk after these intimate moments because we'd end up aruging about the girl I slept with the previous week or the guy he was checking out while we were at the club just three nights before. Nothing was ever perfect between us, but we still loved each other, that much I knew for sure. He knew that even if I fucked a girl to get him off my mind, I wanted to be with him. I knew that even if he had a guy's ass grinding against his crotch, he wished it was me. That's just how things were and I must admit that that's how I thought they were always going to be until we both grew up and everything changed.

"Louis," he said, gaining my attention. I looked up, my eyes drooping, the water now cold as it coursed down my back. "Babe, please, tell my what's going on in your pretty little head," he spoke, rubbing his thumb against my cheek.

His thumb continued to caress my cheek and I couldn't help but lean into his touch. "I can't stop thinking about how much I've wanted this," I finally say. "I can't stop thinking about the fact I'll be able to love you openly and forever and it's just so crazy, Harry." I let out a sad chuckle, my eyes watering just the slightest, "I never thought we'd be able to."

He looks down at me and I can feel his eyes watching as I used my hand to wipe away the tears that were forming. "Hey now," he hushed, leaning back to look me in the eye, "you're okay, yeah? We're both okay and we're both capable of facing the world and all the negative comments that we both know we'll get. We're all alright, okay? It will all be okay, I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Harry," I blatantly replied, looking down at my toes, the water maneuvering around them toward the drain behind me.

Harry let out a sigh and let his hands drop toward his sides, losing touch with my skin. I shouldn't have said what I did, but it was too late to take it back now. "I don't know how many times I have to say I'm sorry," Harry commented as he carefully stepped out of the shower.

I shut off the water and stepped out of the tub as well, quickly grabbing a towel to wrap around myself. As I'm tying the towel at my side, I race to catch up to Harry who is already halfway to the small kitchen.

"Look, H, that's not what I meant--"

Harry dropped the fork and knife he had in his hands into the sink, causing me to jump back and lose my thinking. "It's exactly what you meant, Louis." He shook his head and then looked up at me, "I get it. I screwed up last time, but I legitametly think that this time will be different. I can make a promise to you; we will be able to do this." He paused for a quick second and then added in a softer tone, "it's you and I, it's always been that way."

I walked toward him, reaching out my hand to gently rest against his face, "and I want it to always be that way, love. The fact of the matter is that you just can't make a promise that big, especially to me. After all," I smiled a little, "I'm the one who over thinks everything and gets their hopes too high."

"And I'm the one who hardly takes the time to think and ends up getting your hopes up which ultimately hurts the both of us in the end, I know," Harry said, insulting himself.

I shook my head and closed the distance between us with a kiss. "Don't do that thing where you tear yourself apart," I whispered against Harry's lips.

"I'm sorry," he whispered back.

I kissed him once more and then wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling myself closer to him. "You're a good guy, Harrry. You've always had a heart of pure gold and the shoes to match of course," I told him.

He chuckled and then kissed me again. "How is it that I got this lucky to be with you? Out of all the millions and billions of people in the world, I found you and you've made me the happiest man alive."

"Like everyone says, H, we're soulmates," I grinned.

"You're getting cheesy."

"But I could never be cheesier than you, you goofball," I replied.

We kissed once more and then retreated back to the bedroom to cuddle and talk and kiss because that's what's we had missed most about spending time with each other.

(to be continued)