Love Me Please (Larry Stylinson)

25

The door is unlocked and Louis steps inside, the breath knocked out of his lungs a little bit despite seeing this room before.

The last time he was here, Harry called crying and Louis had been worried sick. He had noticed a little bit about the room but none of the details. Now that he's seeing it without the worry clouding his mind he feels a weird sense of intruding on something intimate.

"So this is my room," Harry says, and his voice is a little quieter than it usually is, a little deeper, a little softer. "Which, you've seen before."

"I have," Louis agrees, his voice quiet too because it feels wrong to disturb the moment.

There's a tapestry on the wall above his bed. It's not one of the madalas Louis usually sees in girls' dorms—this one is dark and moody, a forest view of evergreens and fog. It's lined with fairy lights, the ones Louis noticed before, and notices again when Harry flicks them on. The room is cast in a warm glow and Louis shuffles in a bit more, looking around in poorly concealed awe at seeing such a personal view of Harry's life. The walls not covered by the tapestry are artistically decorated in music posts and papers printed with poetry. There are sticky notes stuck to the mirror with reminders and small messages and Louis reads a few of them: performance this friday, lunch w/ little, do laundry!!!!!

He's so caught up in everything, the messy duvet and the guitar propped up against the wall and the desk area strewed with art supplies among other things, that he doesn't realize Harry's speaking.

"-I'll sleep on the floor, and I'm not sure if you're a nighttime showerer or not but it's down the hall and I can show you in a second if that's something you want, you can use my shampoo and stuff, I have like this body wash that smells like pomegranate and rose which is an unconventional combination but I love it a lot, and yeah. Also I'll get some clothes for you to sleep in-"

"I'm sorry, what?" Louis blurts, having missed most of the beginning.

"What?" Harry asks, just as bewildered.

"Sorry, I zoned out a little."

"Oh, I was offering you a shower? And pomegranate rose scented body wash."

"I heard that, sorry, before that?"

"Oh. All I said was you'll sleep in my bed and I'll take the floor."

Louis makes a noise of disagreement. Never would he imagine himself being cordial with Harry but here he is literally trying to politely refuse sleeping in his bed. It doesn't seem right to kick him out of his own bed. Besides, he doesn't think he can deal with that sort of... intimacy. "That's alright, I can take the floor, or like, the couch downstairs?"

"No! No-" Harry stutters, looking a little frantic and then settling down once he realizes how awkward it is. "Sorry. Um, I'll take the floor. The frat is... weird, like, I don't want you sleeping on the couch out there. It's fine. I want you to sleep in my bed."

"Um, okay... I just feel bad if you're on the floor-"

"Seriously, don't worry. I'll be fine."

"Your back gets sore," Louis protests. "I know that. That's a thing."

Harry waves it off. "I'll be fine. I'm not taking no for an answer."

Louis hates having no choice but he has to admit letting Harry have his way just this once is definitely the way to go. "Alright," he concedes wearily. "Um, I'm going to shower."

"Let me show you where it is."

Harry walks Louis down the hall to the bathroom and Louis is very glad that for a Friday night the house seems pretty empty and quiet. He doesn't know why, really, but he doesn't want anyone to see him here. Probably because he knows the assumptions people will make, which are normal assumptions given that Louis and Harry are soulmates , but... It makes Louis feel sleezy and cheap. He doesn't want to be kept around only for sex and then tossed aside when he's bored of it.