fifty nine

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christmas went quite perfectly, not a surprise to either of the boys.

was it possible that it was too perfect? harry had read many romance books where the people in the couple got suffocated from being together so much, and they needed some alone time after a while. back then, he thought the idea of being away from louis for just a second was unbearable, that he would miss him too much. but now, after spending all christmas with him and almost crying with fondness at louis' reaction to his polaroid camera, he actually did crave some time alone.

was that wrong?

he honestly didn't know how relationships worked, he had only been in one relationship his whole life. he figured maybe louis would agree that he needed a tiny break, though, because louis was understanding. sometimes.

so, on the day after christmas he dressed up in his black jeans, brown boots, and black calvin klein sweatshirt. he ran a hand through his curls, softly, and looked at himself in the mirror for a good while. he was incredibly pale, especially since it was wintertime. he licked his chapped lips, running a hand across his face for a second before exiting the bathroom of louis' flat and crossing through the living room.

he saw louis, standing in the kitchen and talking on the phone with somebody. harry assumed it was his mum by the way he was speaking so softly and kindly like he always did with jay. harry admired his patience whenever jay was upset, he just shushed her and said quiet, soothing words. it seemed he only had that type of patience with two people. everybody else could get him mad pretty easily, and harry thought it was very mean when people tried to do that. he could control it, but only to a certain point.

 louis looked up when harry picked up his keys off the counter, and they met eyes for a second before louis blinked and looked away. 

"okay, okay mum, i know. bobby gets like that sometimes. just calm down, have some wine-"

it was obvious he was interrupted, and he flinched a bit at what jay was saying. harry stood there, frozen, watching louis, as louis' eyes flickered back and forth between the ceiling, in thought, to harry, who was standing there with his hands on his keys.

"where are you going?" louis mouthed, his eyebrows furrowed and his finger pointing to the keys. harry shrugged, because honestly, he didn't know where he was going. he just needed to get away for a few hours.

and louis walked towards him, and harry was caught off guard when louis kissed him, hardly, putting one hand on his cheek and the other covering the mouthpiece of the phone.

"just come back," was what louis whispered, and harry nodded and kissed him shortly again, before turning around on his heel and stumbling a bit, flustered. he was always, always dazed after that boy kissed him, no matter how many times he caught him off guard or touched him.

"okay," harry breathed, before practically falling out the door. he felt this attraction, this need to go back in there and kiss louis again, it was like a gravitational pull and wow he really needed to pull himself together. 

he sighed deeply, fumbling his keys into the pocket of his sweatshirt and walking down the stairs of the building, his boots echoing into the empty hallways and bouncing off the walls. the minute he was in the lobby he felt excited, like he had done something wrong, when all he really did was just leave by himself for the day. he felt some type of guilt in his chest, and he willed it away with furrowed brows and shaky hands, running his car and ducking his head to avoid the falling snow, tumbling to the ground like rain.

his car was cold when he got in it, and he turned the key in the ignition, rubbing his hands together and hoping the heat would kick in soon. this was a cold winter, a snowy one at that. there was mud and slush on the road, and on road signs as well from wheels pulling it from the ground and spraying it everywhere. there was a large wind blowing in the air, and the minute harry shut the door all of the whooshing sounds disappeared.

i sleep naked ➸ larry stylinsonWhere stories live. Discover now