We almost Had it

**

Louis didn't reach out.

After listening to Harry's album, after sitting in the dark with nothing but his own memories and regrets, he realized that calling wouldn't change anything. What would he even say? That he had heard the songs and understood? That he had spent years convincing himself he didn't need Harry, only to have it all come rushing back in a three-minute ballad? That he still thought about him even now, long after their lives had taken different paths?

No. It wouldn't do either of them any good.

So he put his phone down and moved on with his life.

It wasn't easy. At first, it felt like he was just pretending to move on, going through the motions, saying all the right things. But eventually, it became real. The ache in his chest dulled, the memories became less sharp, and he found himself waking up each morning with something to look forward to that wasn't tangled up in the past.

He threw himself into music, into writing, into living.

Louis had spent so much of his life being one half of something—one half of a band, one half of a friendship, one half of a secret he had never been allowed to name. But now, for the first time in years, he was learning how to be whole on his own.

And it was good.

Better than he expected.

Louis started working on his own music, carving out his own sound, separate from the band, separate from everything that had come before. It was terrifying, at first. He had always been the one in the background, the one who wrote, who harmonized, who made sure the others sounded better. But now, he had to step into the spotlight, had to figure out what his voice sounded like alone.

And he did.

Song after song, studio session after studio session, he built something that was his. He wrote about his past, of course—how could he not? But he also wrote about his future, about the life he was creating for himself outside of the shadow of One Direction.

And outside of the shadow of Harry.

Along the way, he met new people—other musicians, other artists, friends who weren't tied to his past, who didn't see him as just Louis from One Direction. They saw him as him, as the person he was becoming, not just the person he had been.

And then, one day, he met her.

It wasn't sudden. It wasn't some grand, earth-shattering moment where the world shifted beneath his feet.

It was quiet. Slow.

He met her through mutual friends, at some gathering where the music was too loud and the drinks were flowing. They talked, laughed, exchanged numbers without much thought. At first, it was just easy conversation, nothing serious, nothing complicated.

But then they kept talking.

And talking.

And one day, Louis realized he was looking forward to her texts, to the sound of her voice, to the way she made him laugh without even trying. She didn't know that part of him, the part that had been shaped by years of hiding and heartbreak. She didn't ask questions about the past he wasn't ready to talk about. She just saw him.

And slowly, Louis started to let himself feel something again.

It wasn't the same. It never would be. But maybe that was a good thing. Maybe he didn't need something all-consuming this time. Maybe he just needed something real.

And this? This was real.

When he found out he was going to be a father, something inside him shifted.