Chapter 24

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The pale light of the red lantern encircled them just enough to make it magical. Harry thought if they couldn't set a fire and put together a few smores, eating small pancakes with a lantern between them will do as well - and judging by the look on Louis' face, he assumed it right.

"What are we gonna do if a security guard walks here?" the footballer turned to him, raising his eyebrows and slightly tilting his head.

"He won't do that. Nobody would be dumb enough to sneak in, the consequences are too bad," Harry pulled his typical nose scrunch for a moment, before laughing. "Don't worry they only check the main buildings and the workshop, this is just a field."

"Underestimating the place which my future depends on, okay I see..." he acted offended, while taking another bite from the mini pancake. "If this is 'just a field', we might call your workshop 'just an artistic basement' as well."

Harry suppressed a smile and shook his head, curls flying in front of his face. He fixed them with a quick move, before answering.

"No need to be so grumpy about it. Look..." he took a deep breath. "I know tomorrow is important, but you're stressing too much about it. You're gonna do great, you hear me? I can't even imagine a universe, where the judges aren't impressed by your skills. And 'm not saying this, because I'm infatuated."

"Sure you're not..." the other's features softened and smiled, but his boyfriend only noted it with a shrug.

"I'm an artist, Lou. I recognize valuable works of art, when I see them."

Despite of being cheesy, the older one appreciated everything he said. Of course it didn't stop him from overthinking or imagining the worst possible scenarios in his head, but knowing someone was actually rooting for him felt great. It hasn't happened a lot, since he moved out and his family couldn't continue visiting the matches due to the distance.

"Thanks, babe..." he spoke in the end, accidentally causing a small breakdown for Harry with the little pet name. "I hope you're right... lately I haven't been the best version of myself and tomorrow I really need to do something about it."

"What's wrong? Is it because of your shoulder problem?" the curly headed one sat closer and gently touched his left side. Although the doctor told him every instruction right after Louis dislocated his shoulder during a practice a month ago, the interlude with Hailey tore the plans of him taking care of his footballer apart. He hasn't helped him at all, just let him heal on his own - maybe with the assistance of Zayn -  which left a pretty heavy, guilty feeling after itself.

"No... well, I don't know. It still hurts," the tense laughter of Louis didn't blow away the intrusive thoughts. "...but I guess it affected the level of my confidence more than it did me physically. 'Cause what if I fuck up again tomorrow? What if I prove them, that I'm everything, but worth for their attention."

"Okay, stop..." Harry sighed, then slipped out of his coat in a second, so he could move freely. He quickly pulled down Louis' as well, setting his left arm free, and even so the older boy was confused about it, he let him do whatever he wanted to. The younger one placed his palm on Louis' shoulder blade, slowly put pressure on it by rubbing in circles, while the fingers of his left hand started to massage the part where the arm met the bust.

"Not an accident will convince them whether they should choose you or not, 's more like the way you can handle it. And if the fact that you're playing after dislocating your shoulder AND you're still the best on the field aren't a quite telling argument, I don't know what is..." Harry spoke in a low voice, still doing his best to ease the blunt pain of him.

Louis closed his eyes, as a relieved sigh slipped out of his mouth. The way he massaged the wounded part felt so great; paired with the incredibly sweet, comforting words he couldn't ask for a more perfect moment. Harry knew exactly what he needed to do to help him let go of the pressure.

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