Work Text:
The best thing about winter is the cold.
Harry wakes up to a chilly morning. And all he wants to do is cocoon himself in his nice, warm duvet.
His body is freezing but his face is hot. He takes a moment to analyse his surroundings.
The window is open, cool November breezes are rushing in his bedroom, a horn blares somewhere far away, the sun's heat is barely felt and there's fur in his mouth.
Harry sputters and Mila meows, but doesn't move away. He decides to move her himself. She stubbornly tries her best to stay sitting on his face, but she's light as a feather and easily moveable.
He gasps slightly at the way the cool breeze immediately hits his cat-warmed face.
Mila climbs on top of his chest and stares at him.
"Morning to you too," Harry greets her. She meows and nudges his face with her nose. In the mood for cuddles this fine morning, then. He blindly searches for his phone on the bedside table, and holds it over his face. Mila's big hazel eyes and tiny pink nose greets him in the form of his lockscreen, it was a close up picture that Harry, to this date, has no idea who took.
That's not what his focus is on, though. It's the big white digits at the top centre.
"Eight thirty, fuck," Harry mutters and scrambles to get up. Mila jumps off of him and meows loudly. "Sorry, Mila. No cuddles today, I'm gonna get late!" And with that he stumbles out of his bed, almost falls on his face before regaining his balance and runs out of the bedroom, leaving Mila to curl up sadly on her own in his bed.
It takes about forty five minutes for Harry to brush his teeth, take a shower, gobble down his breakfast –which consisted of a bowl full of Kellogg's, and nothing along with it because he forgot to buy milk yesterday– at a fatal speed, trying not to choke on said breakfast, sew the button of his shirt that was loose and fell off while he was trying to wear it, pat Mila on her head as a goodbye (a necessary tradition), running out of his house, running back in because he forgot his bag and phone, checking he had everything and then finally going back out.
He's never staying up late to binge Sherlock before work day. He distinctly remembers making a similar promise to himself a while ago.
He has only an hour before he has to be in school. The tube takes the entire hour to reach his destination. So he'll be a few minutes late, and that is not a good look on your first day. If only he could find a flat closer to school, but that part of London is expensive and his bank account isn't exactly thriving lately.
Once Harry reaches there, he dashes inside the school building. Thankfully there aren't any students today, he wouldn't want any of the kids to believe a madman is going to be incharge of their education.
Once inside, he realises he forgot where the Principal’s office was at. He starts walking through the empty corridors, trying to locate the office as he reads the nameplate of every room.
He is unprofessionally late. Not cool. He doesn't want anyone to think he isn't taking this job seriously. It's his first time teaching in a big school like this. The pay is good, and he really, really needs the money. He can't afford to lose this awesome job for the sole –and extremely unreasonable– reason of being unable to fall asleep sooner because of some mere, childish, excitement. Missing the tube, or falling into the sewer sounds more credible than waking up late. Since it doesn't make him sound irresponsible.
Harry is too lost in his thoughts, and in reading the boards above the room. That can be the only explanation of why he wasn't paying attention to where he was going even though he was looking ahead.
Because he bumps into someone. But that's not the extent of it. No. Harry might have been Bambi the deer in his past life because even just a small nudge from the other person sends him stumbling, followed by losing his balance and very gracelessly falling on his ass.
"Ow," Harry mutters. If only that one word had the ability to reduce any embarrassment.
"You alright?" Harry looks up to see the person he bumped into. And ok, that's a very good looking man. Brown hair, kind brown eyes, a five o'clock shadow, and just appropriate build. This guy looks like David Beckham.
"Yeah, sorry," Harry says, and clumsily tries to get up. David Beckham lookalike offers his hand, Harry blushes but accepts. What an image he's creating and it's still the beginning of his first day.
"It's all good," David Beckham lookalike says with a friendly smile. "You seem lost, anything I can help with?"
"Uh, yeah. I was looking for the Principal's office?"
Friendly-Davd-Beckham-lookalike's face lights up. "Oh, it's just around the corner. I can take you there, if that's okay?"
Harry grins. "That would be amazing, thanks!" They begin walking.
"I'm Liam by the way. Liam Payne. I'm the teacher for Year 4."
Right. Introductions. "Harry Styles. I'll be teaching Year 6."
"Oh! You're the new teacher! We've all been waiting to meet you!" Friendly-Davd-Beckham-lookalike who calls himself Liam is very enthusiastic, it seems. It might be (it very much is) inappropriate but Liam reminds Harry of a golden retriever. So that would be Friendly David Beckham lookalike Golden retriever Liam Payne– oh Liam's saying something.
"...first day?"
"Huh?" Stupid Harry. Dumb Harry. Very, very dumb Harry.
Liam blinks, smile unwavering. Wow. "I asked if today's your first day?"
Obviously. "Yeah." Harry needs to tone things down. Nerves always make him get in his head.
"Oh, welcome to BlueValley, then! Hope you have a great time here!" Liam says. So cheerful. So, so cheerful.
"Thank you." He doesn't sound thankful at all. Harry's not doing a good job at first impressions. They reach the Principal's office before he can beat himself about that.
"Here we are," Liam says, gesturing at the door. He turns to leave. "I'll see you around then."
Harry nods, smiling. "Sure. Thank you for bringing me here."
"No problem!" Liam walks away. Harry exhales.
He may or may not have blown that off. None of that again though, he promises himself then knocks the door twice.
Shit. Should he have knocked just once? Does twice make him sound impatient? How many times did he use to knock before this-
"Please come in!" A muffled voice comes from behind the door. Harry takes a deep breath and enters.
The office is as neat as it was the last time he was here. And by neat he means posh as fuck. Look at that mahogany table and shelf. Look at that hardwood floor. The ceilings, the lights. The Principal's office at the school he used to teach in before could only dream to be this luxurious. He can imagine how neat the staff room is going to be–
Harry resets. He isn't here to admire the office. He looks at the Principal, Serena Collins, a lean, beautiful brown woman with short black hair. She's wearing a black suit, sitting confidently in her chair behind the table. She's also looking at him with mild amusement. Did she catch him admiring her office? Oh, sweet Jesus.
"Good morning, Ma'am," Harry greets, formally after he gives her a polite smile. Thankfully his voice comes out firm.
"Good morning, Mr… Styles, was it?" Harry nods, still smiling. "We're very glad you joined us."
"Glad for the opportunity."
Serena smiles warmly at him. "You'll be starting from tomorrow, is that right? Great. You'll be teaching Year 6 Class 1, as I'm sure you know. You'll receive your schedule, the syllabus, your class's progress and all of that today. But before that, we need to introduce you to the rest of the staff, if that's alright with you?"
"That'll be wonderful." As long as he doesn't fuck it up.
Serena proceeds to dial the telephone on the table and then speaks in a soft yet demanding voice, "Mr. Tomlinson, are you free right now? Please come by my office if you are…. Great. I'll see you." She hangs up and looks at Harry with an apologetic smile. "I would've loved to be the one to introduce you but I have a very important meeting to attend. I have called a fellow teacher to do the part though. I hope you don't mind."
"Oh, no, that's quite alright. I don't mind at all." There's a knock on the door. Two knocks. Harry internally cheers .
"Please come in!"
And that's another very, very good looking person. Caramel brown hair into a soft fringe, eyes bluer than the sky on a sunny day, and just a hint of stubble. The man is wearing a chequered yellow shirt and blue jeans. Harry discreetly looks down at his plain white shirt, navy blazer and dress pants. Is he dressed too formally for primary school? Even Liam was wearing a casual grey button up. The Principal is the only one wearing a suit so far. But like, she's the Principal.
"Having a good morning, Ms. Collins?" The man asks with a charming smile.
"A very good one indeed, Mr. Tomlinson," Serena replies with an even warmer smile than before. She looks at Harry. "Mr. Styles, meet Mr. Louis Tomlinson. He's the teacher of Year 6 Class 2. He'll be cooperating with you for this term. If you have any queries, please don't hesitate to ask him. Mr. Tomlinson, this is Mr. Harry Styles. He starts today. I trust you to fill him in on everything and help him settle in."
They both turn to look at each other. Louis gives him a kind, welcoming smile and holds out a hand. "Pleased to have you here, Mr. Styles."
Harry holds it and gives it a gentle shake. "The pleasure is all mine."
"Mr. Tomlinson, I leave him in your care then," Serena says.
Louis gives Harry a grin. "I'm honoured." Harry smiles back. "Please follow me, if you will."
They both thank the Principal and exit the office. Louis' posture loosens immediately. Harry hadn't even noticed he was stiff.
"You can call me Louis. I'm far too young to be called Mister by any of my colleagues," says Louis with an easy smile.
"You should call me Harry as well then."
"Nice to meet you, Harry," Louis repeats his greeting.
"Nice to meet you too, Louis," says Harry chuckling. Louis' smile widens.
"How are you liking the school so far?" Louis asks as they start walking, presumably towards the staff room.
Harry thinks. He has hardly seen anything yet. "It's.. big."
Louis lets out a short laugh. "That's one way to put it."
"I haven't seen much of it yet. I'm trusting you to show me around."
"Oh, I will," Louis assures with a serious expression. "I'll give you the best tour."
"I'll be very grateful." They smile at each other. It's a strange but interesting feeling. Harry's only known Louis for a few minutes and he's already joking around with him. He wonders what it is about Louis that makes him feel so carefree. He can't even remember having any nerves before.
They reach their destination in minutes.
"This is our staff room," Louis gestures to the door. "Come on, let's let everyone know we've got a new teacher amidst us from today onwards."
They enter the room, which is gorgeous, by the way. Spacious, ventilated with the big windows, marble floor. The staff is spread around the room, each sitting at their tables, engrossed in their works. Only Liam, who's sitting at the table in one corner in front of a computer, notices them entering and breaks into a grin.
"Fellas,” Louis calls out right then, voice loud and in the tone of an announcement. "Welcome our newest colleague and soon to be part-of-da-gang, Harry. Harry, meet everyone." With that Louis holds a hand out, pointing at the whole room.
"He'll need names, Louis," a black haired man sitting at the table right in front of him says while rolling his eyes. He then looks at Harry. "Hello, I'm Nick. Grimshaw."
"Grimmy," Louis tells Harry.
"Nice to meet you," Harry nods, smiling.
"The fake blondie is Nialler," Louis continues the introduction. "He's Irish."
"Niall Horan. Nice to meet you," Niall says, voice bright with a lilt of laughter.
"You as well."
"The Vogue Model is Zayner."
"Zayn Malik. Hello."
"He acts like the mysterious one in front of new people, but he's really just quite shy, our Zaynie."
"Shut up, Louis. And also, where are those papers I gave you last Friday-"
"The real blond is Puke, sorry Luke, was it?"
"I hate you. Hi, Harry." Luke casually waves at him. Harry waves back.
"Hello," Harry says, trying not to laugh.
"The petite little ginger is Oliver Twist."
"Oli Wright. Nice to meet you."
"The other not so petite ginger is Eddie Teddy. He's the Music expert of the school," Louis says with a hint of pride in his voice.
"Hello, Harry. I'm Ed Sheeran."
"And the beautiful girls over there are Perrie, Jade, Lou and Anna." The wave at him, Harry waves back.
Louis exhales with finality. "That's it. C'mon, let me show you your desk."
"Oh fuck you, Louis " Harry looks at Liam with mild surprise. For the fifteen or so minutes that he's known the guy, there's never been a hint of a negative emotion on his face. Harry thought he was a human rendition of one of those comfort dogs that are always cheery. Right now though, he's glaring daggers at Louis. Who simply flips him the bird.
“Hello again, Liam," Harry greets him because he feels bad.
Liam grins at him. "Hi, Harry. And a heartfelt welcome to you-"
"Oh cut the cheesy crap, Payno, and tell me how you already know him?"
"We met in the corridor," Harry explains. "He showed me to the Principal's office. Thanks again for that."
"And again, it was no problem."
"See? You already knew him, there wasn't any need for introductions."
Liam scoffs at him. "It was lucky I did. Or you wouldn't have introduced me to him ever."
"Why do you want to be introduced so badly, Payno? Wanna impress him?"
"What? No!" Liam's face scrunches, then straightens as he looks at Harry with big innocent eyes. A dog for sure. "Harry, I didn't mean it like that. It's nothing against you alright?" Harry shakes his head, reassuring that he didn't misunderstand. "Louis just speaks pure bullshit sometimes."
"Excuse me, Leemo Payno. I'm a saint with my words so fuck off alright?" Louis turns to Harry with a grin.
Liam looks at Harry, face painted with disappointment. "Sorry you have to witness this so soon, Harry."
"It's how it always is. Let him see us for what we are," Louis says before Harry can say anything. He looks at Harry. "None of that professional bullshit here, we're all very good friends and you're gonna become a part of us real soon." Harry smiles wide, his heart warming.
"Oh my god, he has dimples!" Perrie shrieks from the corner. Harry blushes. "We've got a cute one among us, everyone!"
Niall gawks. "I thought I was the cute one!"
Perrie waves her hand in dismissal. "You're the jolly one, now."
Niall shrugs. "That works too."
Louis is already looking at him when Harry turns, a grin stretched wide on his face. "Come on, Harold. Let me give you a tour of the rest of the school and after that, behold, I'll show you my favourite place in this entire school."
"It's just Harry, actually."
Louis' already out the door. "Can't hear you! C'mon, quick!"
"Don't bother correcting him, Harry," Niall says from behind him. "Once you've been nicknamed by Louis, it'll stay with you forever. I'm surprised you got one this soon, he usually takes his time with those."
Harry can't hide the amusement he's feeling. Louis is the most funny and carefree person he's ever come across. And he really, really wants to befriend him.
This might not just be a great job with good pay, it could turn out to be a very fun experience. Harry hasn't looked forward to anything this much in his life since his teenage years.
Louis gives Harry a tour of the entire school. The campus is huge and Louis takes his time, telling fun little stories and keeping Harry entertained even though there's no need. When they've visited almost every place in the school, including Harry's classroom, Louis takes him to the promised destination.
"This is your favourite place in the entire school?" Harry asks.
Louis grins and nods, proudly looking at the classroom. Bright yellow walls, decorated with wall arts and drawings, most likely made by students, colourful desks and chairs, even the ceiling has numerous crafts hanging down from it. It looks joyful.
"Understandable," Harry murmurs, looking around with mild awe. "Your students are very creative."
Louis looks at him, grinning so wide his eyes crinkle. He's glowing with pride. "Yeah. We had a lot of fun making this."
"I'd have to do something like this in my own classroom, someday soon."
"It'll be an amazing experience, for both you and the kids. It's not compulsory to do so, of course, but every teacher would recommend having an activity day to nurture the kids' creativity and also team spirit. Group them up in small teams and give them goals. They love the process and you love the result."
"That's a great idea," Harry tells him.
Louis looks smug. "It's an old school tradition. Every year teachers and students do it together. It really helps everyone bond well. I'd suggest you do it this week with your class."
Harry nods, already planning the thing. "I will." He looks at Louis and smiles. "Thanks for showing me your favourite place, Lou. I really love it." Louis smiles back, just a little warmer than before.
"You're very welcome," he says. "Come on, let's get to lesson planning for tomorrow. It's your first lecture, isn't it? I'll catch you up with the syllabus taught so far. Also need to tell you about the test schedule. Let's head back to the staff room, shall we?" Louis cheekily holds out his elbow, like a gentleman. Harry giggles, and tangles his arm around it.
"We shall," he replies and they head off.
~
Harry, fortunately, doesn't get late the next day.
It's supposed to be the day he would be introduced to the class, and he needed to be there before school time to adjust everything he'll need to teach.
The Principal personally introduces him to the class, and there's a united greeting from the kids as they'd apparently practised before. Harry loves it. He truly feels very welcome.
There's a whole hour of individual introductions of each and every student. Harry even encourages them to talk about their hobbies and likes and dislikes so he could get to know them better. To make it mutual, he shares many of his own as well.
As he'd expected, not every student is as enthusiastic and eager for the introduction session. Some are shy, some don't know what to say and some are simply disobedient. Harry isn't annoyed by even a single one of these children. There's always going to be diversity, and that's the most basic thing a teacher needs to be able to deal with, in Harry's opinion.
All in all, it doesn't go too bad. Once it's over, they move on to the lessons. Harry does everything according to what he and Louis discussed the previous day. The children didn't look like they were having trouble keeping up, but Harry still asked them towards the end of the lessons for good measure. The feedback was good, and the kids didn't hesitate to ask questions. Harry isn't sure if it's because he made it comfortable enough for them to or because the children are bold enough already.
"Of course it was you, H," Niall reassures him as they group around the staff room during recess, their food trays in hand. "No matter how much confidence one has, if the teacher is too strict or too awkward every kid hesitates, even if just a little."
"Speaking from personal experience?" Harry asks, smirking.
Everyone on the table lets out a laugh.
"The world will end before Niall becomes strict enough to scare kids away," Nick comments.
"Or awkward," Luke adds. "Niall's the human embodiment of the yellow Teletubby."
"Laa laa," Liam mutters.
Louis raises his eyebrows and looks like he's about to make fun of him when there's a knock on the door. They all turn around to see two little girls, dressed nearly in their school uniforms and hair tied up in cute little pigtails, are standing in the doorway with their hands behind their backs.
Harry recognises the two as his students.
"Laura and Maria," Harry calls them out. "What brings you here?"
"May we come in, sir?" Maria asks, politely.
"Come on in. Did you finish your lunches?"
"Yes, Mr. Styles," she answers. She's one of the confident ones in the class, not afraid to speak out. Laura on the hand is a bit on the shy side. The two girls appear to be very close friends to him and Harry thinks it's so interesting how they compliment each other.
"So? Did you need something from me?"
They both shake their heads, then look at each other. Maria motions towards Harry with her head, nudging Laura a little. Laura bites her lip, looking nervous.
"It's okay," Harry tells her in a soft voice. "You can tell me anything. I'm here, what do you need?"
Laura looks at him from under her eyelashes, before tucking her chin to her chest and holding out a hand.
Harry's heart quite literally melts.
She's holding up a flower made from pink origami paper. There's some glitter sprinkled on top.
Harry nearly coos, gently taking it from her hand and cradling it near his chest.
"It's a welcome gift," Maria says in her sweet voice when Laura doesn't speak. "She made it herself but was too shy to give it to you, so I came along. Do you like it Mr. Styles?"
Harry gives them both the warmest smile he can muster, trying his best to not start crying then and there. "This is the loveliest thing I've ever received! Thank you so much, Laura. It's very pretty, I love it very much." Laura blushes red, but gives him a wobbly smile and whispers out a 'Welcome Mr. Styles'. "Thank you to you too, Maria," he tells the other girl. "You're a very good friend."
"No problem," Maria grins with teeth. Then they take their leaves and Harry's left sitting in his chair, a paper flower cradled to his chest as he tries not to cry.
When he looks back, everyone is looking at him fondly. Harry gives them a slightly teary smile, which he will not admit having on his face later.
"They definitely liked you," Niall says.
Harry nods and for some reason his eyes immediately find Louis'. The man is looking at him with the softest look ever, with the wide smile that crinkles his eyes. Harry may detect some extra fondness and a hint of pride in his eyes. He may.
Once his shift is over, Louis offers to walk him to the station.
"You really didn't have to," Harry says as they walk.
"I want to," Louis insists. "I can't believe you have to wake up this early in the morning to get to school."
"Yeah it takes a while. My flat is nearer to my old school, so it wasn't as hectic then."
"You consider looking for a new one near here then?"
Harry hums in contemplation. "I actually do. Once I save enough to rent a new one, of course. This area's a bit expensive, I've heard."
"It is, yeah," Louis tells him. "I could only get a flat here because Zayn agreed to room with me, back when I started."
Harry stops in his tracks. "Wait, you and Zayn live together?"
"Yeah," Louis says. "That's how we got so close. We were both looking to live closer so we decided to get one flat and share the rent. It's been working well so far, mainly because he tolerates me. I think it could be because I'm his smoke buddy."
"You smoke?" Harry asks.
"Why, you gonna stop hanging out with me now that you know I'm a walking talking invitation card for disease?"
"No no," Harry rushes to say. "I don't mind. You do you. Was just– I don't even know why I asked that. Was just surprised, I guess."
Louis laughs. "It's alright, love, I'm just taking the piss. Yeah, I smoke. I tried to quit but being a teacher can get real stressful sometimes. It's a coping mechanism. Can't be perfect in every way, can I?"
Harry shakes his head with a soft smile "Everyone has flaws, it's okay."
"Oh, so you're calling me flawed now?"
"You called yourself that first!"
"I just said I'm not perfect."
"Which directly implies that you are imperfect, aren't you a teacher you should know this!" Harry blurts. Then he realises the meaning of what he said and gets worried he might have hurt Louis' feelings while only trying to joke. But when he looks at Louis, he sees not even the slightest hint of hurt but eyes full of mischief. It relaxes him and he continues, "Being perfect means being flawless, so the opposite logic applies as well."
"Perfection and flawlessness are completely different things."
"They're not."
"Are too."
"Are not."
"Are too."
"Are not."
"We've reached the station."
"Have no- oh."
Louis laughs, and Harry can't help but chuckle along. They say their goodbyes and Harry makes Louis promise to return home safely. Louis promises he'd text Harry once he's home but demands Harry do the same. With that they .
Once Harry's home the first thing he does is see Louis' text.
Louis
got home safe
you?
Harry replies immediately.
H: just did.
Before he can lock the phone and go looking for Mila, he receives a new text.
L: 👍✌️
Harry smiles and locks his phone. He walks further inside and finds Mila curled up on the centre of the couch. Harry crouches on the floor and coaxes her to get closer so he can pet her as promised. She's always a little upset with him for leaving her alone in the house but a little cuddling manages to break her shell.
Once she opens up, she lets herself be held in Harry's arms, small and delicate and nudges his face with her head.
Harry cuddles her as much as she loves it and, like always, it takes away most of his exhaustion.
Today was one of the best days he'd had. He feels silly for even feeling so nervous about this. The kids loved him, he's made great friends already and it's all going well and good.
That night, before heading off to sleep, Harry remembers to place the origami flower on the shelf where all his precious belongings like his photo frames and some favourite showpieces are placed.
He looks at it and can't help but smile.
He might just fall in love with this job. And the people it includes.
~
On Friday, of his first week in the school, Harry decides to perform the school tradition with his class.
He gathers up craft materials from the activity room and instructs every student to bring things the school can't provide.
They spend most of the day making beautiful and artistic stuff. Wall hangers, rock or jar paintings, clay sculptures and many more. Some kids even bring some of their favourite drawings from home to frame on the walls.
Laura has the time of her life. She makes various structures out of origami paper and she makes them flawlessly. Harry had never seen her this delighted.
Harry helps in every way he can, like cutting paper for them, applying glue, holding the glass jars so they won't break it
and hanging or pasting their works on the walls and ceilings.
Once the entire classroom is decorated, Harry can't keep himself from taking a picture of the room along with the kids. He'd asked beforehand if that was okay, and received a thumbs up which he's glad for. Usually they aren't allowed to pull their phones out during school hours but they let it go during special occasions like today.
At the end of the day, all the students look like they've enjoyed the activity which makes Harry feel a whole other level of achievement.
He tells Louis so, who congratulates him for his small success.
"This experience is going to stay with me forever," Harry tells him. "Thank you for telling me about it."
Louis waves his hand. "Anyone would've. As I said, it's an old school tradition."
"Which you started, like two years ago."
Louis looks flustered. "Niall?"
"Liam."
"Fucker."
"Why didn't you tell me it was you who came up with this? It's something worthy enough to take credit for!"
Louis doesn't look smug like he should. "Lots of schools do this."
"Mine didn't," Harry tells him. "We mostly had teaching stuff up on the walls and that too for the younger ones, like charts and stuff."
Louis shrugs. "I mean, they already have to do enough study. A good, artistic environment makes it much less boring for them. And as I said, making the children make that stuff increases team spirit."
"Exactly! Such preach-able thoughts and you aren't even taking any credit for them. If it was me I'd be swimming in praise."
"You wouldn't," Louis chuckles.
"How do you know that?"
"You don't seem the type to be all smug about things."
"I am a massive narcissist, mind you."
Louis laughs out this time. "That's nothing to be proud of!"
Harry shrugs, but can't keep his smile.
"Still, you're the kind that doesn't get too self centred about everything," he says when he stops laughing.
Harry looks at him, properly this time, he looks nothing but genuine. "We've only known each other for a week."
Louis grins at him then. "Yet we already know each other so well!"
"Yeah," Harry says, smiling back. "We do, don't we?"
"Hey, Harry!" Someone calls, interrupting them. They both turn to find Niall running towards them, looking just a little panicked.
"Hi Niall," Harry greets once the man stops in front of him.
"Hi, hi," Niall pants softly, before straightening up. "The Principal wants to see you."
Harry looks at Louis, frowning. Louis looks confused as well. Harry looks back at Niall.
"Did she say, why?"
Niall shakes his head. "Just asked you to meet her in her office. Get going now, quick!"
"I'll see you tomorrow," Harry tells Louis, who nods back, before he starts rushing towards the office.
Harry knocks on the Principal's office's door, trying to push back all the scary thoughts that are overtaking his mind. She asks him to come in and he enters with a deep breath.
Are they gonna fire him? But he just joined! He hasn't even done anything to-
"Mr. Styles," Harry snaps back to reality. Serena has an unreadable expression on her face."Took you some time," she says.
"Uh," Harry starts, eloquently. "I came as soon as Niall told me."
"Told you what?"
"That you were asking for me."
"And you came running or walking?"
What does he say to this? "Running, Ma'am."
Serena nods, and then starts typing something on her phone.
Harry just stands there, waiting. When she doesn't say anything for a few minutes, Harry decides to just ask.
"So, what was it you needed from me? Ma'am," he adds a second later.
"You are to head to the auditorium immediately," Serena demands.
What? "Sorry?"
Serena looks at him with her intense stare. Harry gulps. "I thought I was clear."
Harry nods, trying not to shiver. What happened to the warm and friendly woman from his first day? What the fuck did he manage to do to piss her off like this?
"You were completely clear. I'll head there immediately."
Serena gets up from her seat. "I'll come along." Harry must not be able to hide the confusion well because she asks, "Is that a problem?"
"No! Not at all! Please come."
The entire way to the auditorium, which is from the first floor to the ground floor, Harry is fidgeting. Worried what the hell is going to happen with him.
When they reach the place, Serena stops just outside and motions him to enter.
Harry does so with hesitant steps, his heart beat increasing with each step. He gently opens the door and what he sees inside makes his heart leap. This time with excitement.
"Surprise!" All the teachers yell. Harry lets out a surprised laugh. There's a welcome sign on the stage, covered in glitter, and the teachers are standing on the stage with little pink heart balloons and Louis stood in the centre with a large bouquet of roses.
"Oh my god, guys!" He walks in, still unable to believe it. Serena walks in from behind him, smiling that warm and friendly smile of hers. "I thought something bad was going to happen."
"I'm bad at stalling," Serena says, laughing with an apologetic look on her face. "Sorry if I scared you, Mr. Styles."
"It's totally alright," Harry says and it truly is. He is very much happy right now. But also he can't afford to hold grudges against the bloody Principal.
"Come on! The pizza is getting cold!" Niall complains.
"There's pizza?!"
"Of course, there is Harold. This is a small celebration. Now come on, take this bouquet so we can stash some pizza in Niall's mouth."
"I'm ready," Niall says and opens his mouth wide. They all laugh. Harry walks up to Louis and accepts the bouquet. His eyes land on the welcome sign behind him. Because of the teachers standing in front of it, Harry couldn't see the rest before but now he does and he barks out a laugh.
The sign is a massive pink banner that says 'Welcome Home Baby Girl'.
"What in the world?!"
"It's all Niall's fault," Louis says. Niall squawks.
"You told me about this way too late! They were out of all banners except this
It's not my fault!"
Harry looks at Louis, touched. "You planned this?"
Louis shrugs, smiling like it's no big deal. Except it is. To Harry, it's the best deal. "It's been a while since we had any new teachers."
"Two years," Luke supplies. "The most recent ones are Louis, Zayn, Liam and Niall. They were the newest and youngest before you came along, Harry." He smiles. "Welcome."
"There was no need to do this."
"Eh," Niall says. "It's been a while since we ate pizza together too, so. It was more of an excuse, you see."
Harry laughs. "That makes me feel way better. Thanks, Niall."
They all sit on the auditorium seats as Perrie and Zayn bring out the pizza boxes. They chat and laugh while eating and it's all great fun.
Harry turns to look at Louis who's laughing about something with Nick, a few seats away. He must sense Harry looking because he turns his head. Harry mouths a thank you, a hand held to his chest. Louis gives him a gentle, closed lip smile.
Today's the best day of Harry's life.
Oh, and he's very much fallen in love with this job. In just a week.
~
"So, they threw you a welcome party?"
"Yeah! It was so much fun. They planned a surprise and everything," Harry says, leaning back against his couch. He's subconsciously caressing Mila's back as she sleeps on his lap. It's Saturday afternoon, finally a day off after a week full of work. For some reason he misses being there.
"That's amazing, H," Gemma says from the other side. He'd decided to call her today, to update her about everything. "Glad you found such great people to work with."
"Yeah, they're all so nice. I never feel left out even though they're a close knit group."
"Good for you!"
"It is, isn't it," Harry sighs. "Can't believe I got so lucky."
"I mean, you're always nice to everyone too, H. I think you deserve nothing less than the best."
Harry blushes. "Don't get sappy on me now. I might start doubting someone's possessed you."
Gemma scoffs. "You know I mean the emotional shit I say to you. Either accept it grateful or go fuck yourself."
Harry smirks. "Oh I plan to."
He laughs when he hears a retching sound. "Gross! I'm your bloody sister, asshole!"
They talk about everything and nothing for a little while longer. Gemma shares tidbits of her own life as well. When he hangs up, it's with a promise to meet up someday soon. They live in the same city after all, no matter how far away.
Harry doesn't know what to do with the rest of his afternoon. There's not a lot of homework yet, and they'd already planned the next day's lesson yesterday at school. He has nothing. Maybe he could go shopping? But there's nothing to buy. Plus, banging out isn't the same without someone along.
Harry's contemplating how to spend his holiday when his thoughts are interrupted by his phone beeping.
Lou
-wanna go out?
-for lunch
Harry smiles. It's settled then.
-sure
-where?
The three dots bounce around as Harry waits.
-know this great place near school
-meet me there?
-be there in an hour
-cool
-ill wait for you there
-see you soon
Harry thanks his laziness that he hadn't eaten anything since morning. A lunch out with Louis sounds fun. Maybe they could go somewhere after that.
Harry excitedly gets up, forgetting his lap was made into bed by Mila. Fortunately with her amazing cat reflexes, she lands on all four paws upright. That doesn't help her mood though. Now she's annoyed being woken up.
Harry crouches down and thumbs her head. "Sorry, Mila," he tells her. "Made plans with Louis just now. Gotta leave."
She meows once and trots away with a high head. He wonders how long she'll stay mad for this time. Not only did he ruin her precious sleep, he's also leaving her alone for the day again.
Harry makes a mental note to buy more Churu, her favourite treat, to make it up to her.
For now, he has to worry about getting out of his baggy rumpled PJs, wearing something presentable and catching that tube.
Harry puts on his casual black skinny jeans, and a blue Hawaiian shirt with some of the buttons undone. It's his usual day outing fit. It's really not much different from the shirts he wears to school. Except they aren't as patterned and unbuttoned as this. After taking five minutes to set his hair into not looking like a bird's nest, Harry deems himself worthy of going out.
As promised, Louis is waiting for Harry in front of the school gate, wearing a blue denim jacket over a white tee. Harry had realised a little too late that he didn't bring his own jacket along. He's gonna get so cold now.
"Aren't you cold?" Louis asks right on time.
Harry shrugs. He is, but not much he can do about it, can he. "Forgot my jacket."
"Ah," Louis says.
"I can handle some low temperatures."
"I hope you can," Louis smirks. "Come on, let's get going."
Turns out, Harry can't handle any low temperatures. He's shivering by the time they reach the small restaurant they were headed to. Louis tried to offer him his jacket, but he already looked so cold with the way he tightened it around him every time a breeze came that Harry couldn't accept it.
"I get cold very easily," Louis tells him, looking apologetic.
"It's okay," Harry reassures. It's Harry's own fault for forgetting anyway. He won't expect Louis to do anything for him.
The restaurant is a little warm, thankfully, and Harry stops shivering once they're inside.
They both order some soup as a starter and Harry even better the moment he swallows the delicious hot liquid.
"What would you like?" Louis asks him when the waitress comes to take their orders.
Harry thinks. "What would you recommend?"
"Erm," Louis strokes his stubbled chin. "Oh, the spaghetti dishes here are really good!"
Harry turns to the part of the menu with all the spaghetti dishes. "I'll get spaghetti carbonara, please." He tells the waitress.
"I'd like some spaghetti with meatballs."
The waitress leaves with their orders. Harry turns to find Louis smiling at him.
"What?"
"You're so polite," Louis says, amusedly.
Harry shrugs, not pouring. "It's good to be nice to people." He's not pouting.
"Stop pouting, you big baby," Louis laughs.
"M'not!"
"And I never said it's bad." He's not laughing anymore but smiling warmly. "You're a really good person."
"Shut up."
"You are!"
"Thanks," Harry says, feigning nonchalance. It doesn't work because he's blushing too much.
"So humble as well! Look at you, going all red over a simple compliment."
The blush doesn't lessen. "You called me out to eat! Not to embarass me!"
"I'm not trying to embarass you," Louis says, there's so much warmth in his blue eyes. "I'm just saying I'm glad to have a friend who's such a good person. I'm always lucky with friends, you know. None of my friends have ever been dickheads in any way. Not to me or to anyone else."
Harry smiles, and not in embarrassment this time. "Have you ever thought it could be you and not some luck?"
Louis frowns. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, maybe you're a really good person yourself who never makes friends with people who are not, you know, good," Harry says, shrugging.
Louis smirks. "You can swear in front of me, we're not in school right now."
Harry rolls his eyes. "Fine, people who are right arseholes."
Louis laughs. "Maybe you're right."
He smiles at Harry, who smiles back. Their food arrives moments later. The first bite has Harry moaning.
"Mmm, you're right," Harry says with spaghetti in his mouth. "It's delicious."
"I'm always right," Louis says smugly. "Which means you should always trust me from here onwards, about everything."
Harry holds his hand out, palm down and says, "I pledge that my trust shall always be given to thee, Louis Tomlinson, whatever the choice may be."
Louis presses a hand against his chest and straightens up. "I shall bear thy trust with my utmost dedication."
Harry starts giggling and Louis soon follows. They finish their food joking around like that, while also getting to know each other more. In school, most of the stuff they talk about is school related. So, Harry's glad he got a chance to know Louis better outside school. Harry tells him about his family, his previous job and some memorable times from uni. Louis in turn tells him about his own family and friends as well.
"Wait so you have six younger siblings?" Harry asks in disbelief. Louis nods proudly. "Now I know where all that stamina comes from," Harry mutters and Louis breaks into laughter at that.
"They're amazing, really, my family. The most lovable people ever," Louis says fondly.
"Just like you," Harry tells him at which Louis blushes.
"Hey, you can't get revenge on me for complimenting you."
"I'm not getting revenge!"
"Sure." Louis doesn't believe him.
They keep chatting even when they're done eating, only pausing as Louis pays the bill –Harry tried to pay his share but Louis didn't let him ("My treat." "But, Lou-" "I called you, I'll pay.")– and even when they exit the restaurant. The cold hits Harry as soon as he steps out and he wraps his arms around himself.
Louis pulls off his jacket and hands it to Harry. Harry shakes his head.
"You'll get cold."
"I'll be home in like fifteen minutes, it'll take longer for you." He holds it out further. "Take it."
"But-"
"Take it, for fuck's sake, Harold," Louis says, exasperated.
Harry sighs. "Fine, if you insist."
"I do."
He takes the blue jacket and pulls it over him. Louis' scent immediately hits him as soon as his warmth does and Harry subconsciously relaxes into the garment.
Louis is shivering already so they hurry. They stop in front of the gate where they have to part ways.
"We should do this again," Harry says. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thinks that sounded like they just had a date.
"That sounded like we just had a date," Louis comments, reading his mind. Harry laughs.
"That's what I just thought."
"You're right though, we should. I had a lot of fun today." Louis is smiling that crinkly smile of his.
"Me too," Harry says, smiling just as widely.
"Text me when you get home," Louis tells him. Harry nods.
"See you Monday?" It sounds more of a question. As if Harry wants to meet before that. He expects Louis to just nod.
"Or we could… watch a movie tomorrow?" Louis asks instead. Harry grins.
"Would love to."
"Don't forget your jacket again, I only have so many meself."
Harry laughs. "Shut up."
~
It takes just a month for Louis and Harry to get close enough to seem like they've known each other forever. They spend almost all of their time together. In school they do just about everything together like planning lessons, marking papers, eating lunch, and other work stuff. Even off school they hang out from time to time, sometimes it's just them and sometimes it's the whole gang having a night out.
They have another welcome party for Harry, a 'proper' one. They say it's to welcome him in their friends group unlike the previous one which was his welcoming in school. But Harry knows it's just an excuse to go out and have a drink with everyone. He doesn't mind, loving every moment he gets to spend with his new friends.
They're fun people, and Harry's glad to have them as colleagues as well as friends. There's no bad blood between anyone, well, except Liam and Louis. But Harry's come to know that's not anything personal, just a bit of banter between two lads. He begins to see it soon enough. Liam and Louis don't hate each other at all, it's a bittersweet relationship and everyone has fun looking at them arguing over everything and nothing.
Louis does it with everyone, it seems to Harry. Banter, that is. He insults his friends every chance he gets. Fortunately for him, everyone knows not to take it to heart because they also know that deep down, Louis truly cares like no one does. Harry accounts it to being the eldest brother of six, being the fun one but also the most loving one. He's so much like Gemma in that way. Which is why, Harry thinks, he feels so comfortable in Louis' presence. At home. It's nice. Albeit a little strange.
Harry wonders how it would've been if he'd known Louis longer.
Looking at Zayn, Louis' best friend since uni and current housemate, Harry thinks it'd be pretty much the same. They'd have all those banners that Zayn and Louis always do, he'd insult Louis who'd insult him back. They'd have fights but always make up in the end. They'd share everything. Still, Harry imagines, he'd feel just as much 'at home', probably even more, than he does now.
Louis does spend a lot more time with Harry than he does with Zayn, though. Harry thinks it's because Zayn's too busy trying to win Liam's heart lately.
That's a thing as well. Harry recently began noticing the heart eyes and sneaky glances Zayn keeps making towards the friendly David Beckham lookalike. Harry wonders if Zayn has a crush on Liam. He could very well be reaching conclusions, since he doesn't know either of them too well yet. But still, he can't be that delusional, can he?
Turns out, no. Zayn does definitely have a massive crush on Liam Payne, teacher of Year 4 Class 2. It is obvious to the point they feel like they're watching a movie. Harry finds that out when he asks Louis about his doubts one day. The man wholeheartedly laughs.
"Oh you finally caught on," Louis says when he sobers up. "Yup yup that is very much true. Our Zaynie poo has the hots for Mr. Liam Payne. He's head over heels for him. Totally gone."
"Alright, go suck some dick Louis."
Harry flinches, he didn't realise Zayn was listening. He waits for the brown man to say something but nothing comes his way. Instead it's Louis who speaks.
"I don't think I'm the one who's desperate
to suck dicks here."
Zayn makes a face at him before he turns to Harry. "Doesn't he look like he needs to put his mouth where it isn't his business?"
Louis scoffs. "Please. Everything that I want to be my business, is my business."
"Don't be a pain in my arse, Tommo. Liam will hear you."
Louis raises his eyebrows. "Oh, so that's what we're afraid of here?" He puts an arm around Zayn's shoulder. "Why don't you just tell him, mate? Better than him overhearing innit?"
Zayn shrugs off the arm, lips pursed. "I don't even know if he likes me yet. I mean," he shrugs again, more reserved this time, "he might never be interested in me. Since, you know, I'm not Christian."
So that's where the insecurities lie, Harry realises. Until now, Harry thought Zayn was pretty proud of his origins, making offhand comments about white privilege and all from time to time.
It's as if Zayn's read his mind. "It's not like I'm insecure about my roots," he says. ", I'd prefer not to be white even if it was a question of life and death. I've just had enough racism when it comes to my love life. I'd rather not anymore."
Louis opens his mouth but then shuts it. His face is a form of understanding though, as if he already knew about this.
Harry sighs, feeling horrible. Zayn doesn't deserve this. "That's so shitty, Zayn. I'm so sorry."
Zayn shrugs again. He does that a lot. This time it's with a smirk though. "As long as you're not racist, you don't have to apologise."
"Still. I hate that people do that."
"Well we can't do much about it, can we?"
Harry bites his lip, wondering if he should speak his mind. He doesn't have to worry about it because Louis beats him to it.
"You know what I think, though?" He says, after being quiet all that while. Zayn and Harry turn to look at him, finding him smiling softly. A drastic change from his teasing behaviour just moments ago. "I think Liam isn't that kinda lad. I think he really respects you for who you are. Plus, he's a human rendition of a puppy. He doesn't have the ability to carry malicious thoughts or feelings about anyone, much less you."
That's the nicest thing Harry's heard Louis speak about Liam. It warms his heart still. He has to agree.
"Yeah," he says. "I think Liam is a very nice guy, Zayn. I mean I've only known him for like a month, but I haven't seen him be mean to anyone except Louis."
Louis grins. "And that too is because I force him to be mean to me. I think, secretly, the lad has a soft place for me in his massive heart."
"I really don't," Liam says. The three of them freeze. Zayn looks like he's going to pass out.
Shit shit shit. Did he hear everything?
"I hate you from deep inside my heart, Louis, believe me," Liam says as he comes to stand beside Harry, a bundle of sheets in his hand. There's a teasing smile on his face which tells them he isn't at all serious. Maybe he didn't hear them.
Louis lets out a nervous laugh. "Yeah, well, it's not like I like you either. Watch out tonight, Liam. You've heard too much I could smother you in your sleep, you know?"
Liam smirks. "All I've heard is you call me a nice guy. Now that doesn't happen a lot."
"Exactly. I'm actually doing this so no one would suspect me when I kill you tonight." Louis smirks evilly.
Liam faux shivers. "Oooh I'm scared. Now tell me the truth. Why were you saying nice things about me? What are you truly planning?"
It's like someone filled air in Zayn's lungs. The man exhales heavily in relief, colour returning to his face.
"You didn't hear the whole thing?" Liam shakes his head. Louis smiles. "Then you'll have to wait until I do come to kill you. All the villains tell their plans when their enemy is in their control."
Liam sighs. "Nevermind, do whatever you want." He looks at Zayn. "Oh, yeah. I almost forgot what I came here for. Zayn, could you do me a favour?"
"Um," Zayn starts, voice a little high pitched. "Sure. Yeah."
Liam laughs. "You haven't even heard what it is!"
"What is it?"
"I won tickets to the Coldplay concert this Saturday. I was going to take my sister along, but it turns out she has other plans. Would you like to join me? I know you like their music."
Zayn looks at him, mouth open wide, completely flabbergasted. Harry tries his best not to grin.
"Uh, Zayn?"
Louis smacks the back of his raven head. "Huh? Uh, yeah yeah sure I'd love to! Yeah. Of course. I'll, uh, I'll come."
Liam's face nearly splits in two. "Awesome! I'll call you about the details. This will be so much fun! See you then!" He's literally skipping when he walks away.
This time Harry doesn't try to hold his grin in. Louis is nearly jumping on top of a shocked Zayn.
"Well if that doesn't say anything nothing can," Harry says.
He sees it when Zayn finally cracks a small smile.
"You're right," he says softly. Then his face drops. "Holy shit, we're going to a concert. Me and Liam. Just the two of us, holy fucking shit !" He drags his hands down his face.
Louis and Harry share a smile. Louis pats Zayn's back. "Don't worry, mate. We'll prepare you for your concert first date."
"Hey that rhymed!"
"It did indeed!"
Zayn sighs. "This isn't going to age well."
Saturday afternoon finds the three of them at Zayn and Louis' flat, shifting through his nearly made wardrobe. For all that mysterious bad boy aura surrounding him, Zayn turns out to be quite a good soft boy. His room is extremely tidy in comparison to Louis', which Harry has the misfortune of looking at when it's in one of the worst states according to Louis (Zayn says it's always like that). Being a cleanliness lover, Harry doesn't appreciate it much but he just can't get it in him to hold it against Louis.
Back to Zayn's wardrobe. There are too many black clothes, but a bunch of them manage to pass Louis and Harry's 'date-appropriate-wear'. They compare the five outfits and in the end, Harry decides it should be the red and black flannel shirt. He picks it up and turns to Louis, to tell him that he likes this one best. But Louis has other thoughts. He's holding up a dark blue denim shirt.
Obviously, that gets them into an argument.
This is the first time Harry and Louis have ever disagreed on something. They keep trying to prove to each other why their choice is the best.
"Trust me Louis, flannel is the best. Red suits Zayn so much as well!"
"No! Zayn's a denim boy. Denim denim all the way."
"But it's not romantic at all!"
"What's not romantic about denim?! Harry, you do say some shit."
They both turn to Zayn, who looks very very bored.
"Zayn, tell us what you think," Harry asks him.
"Yeah, Zayn. Tell him you like denim best!"
Zayn stays silent for a while. Then starts walking, passes the both of them, walks to his bed, and picks up the black Batman t-shirt they had discarded on the floor in their 'not-so-date-appropriate-wear' pile. Louis and Harry look on speechlessly as he changes.
He turns to look at them once he's done. "Liam loves Batman," is all he says before he walks out of the room. Harry and Louis still look on speechlessly.
The sound of the door shutting is what snaps them out of their reverie. They look at each other and smile.
"Guess he didn't need our help after all," Harry says.
Louis shakes his head. "No, we did help him. Just not in the way we planned to."
Harry frowns. "What do you mean?"
"Didn't you see how nervous he was? In the end we made him choose his own outfit, so he could be himself and be confident out there." Louis smirked. "Just as I planned."
Harry pursed his lips. "You didn't plan shit."
Louis squawks. "Excuse me! I knew this is how he'd react, okay? He's my best friend. I know him better than he knows himself."
Harry shakes his head, throws the flannel on the bed and walks out. "Don't take credit for things you didn't do, Louis."
"It was totally my doing!"
Harry doesn't hide his smile, since Louis can't see his face anyway.
~
December brings chaos along with it. With Christmas just around the corner, they have to start preparing for the School's Annual Christmas Fair as soon as possible. The fair is followed by the holidays, which is what everyone is looking forward to the most.
Every year the school holds a grand fair for christmas. It's one of the biggest functions held by the school which is enjoyed by students and teachers alike. There's various rides, stalls, photo booths and so much more! Each year group is assigned one stand. The teachers and, in some cases, students work together to bring that stand to life.
It's Harry's first ever Christmas fair, and he's very excited at the prospect of getting to do another project with his kids. Bonus, he has Louis to help him this time around. Since both classes of Year 6 have a single stand.
Louis and Harry decide to make a gingerbread man dress up stand. They will get as many gingerbreads as they can and make decorative items which their customers can buy and then enjoy. It was actually Laura's idea, which Louis, Harry, and the class really loved. Harry was yet again surprised by the amount of creativity and talent this quiet little girl has.
They start pretty soon, first focusing on making their stand. They set it up in their assigned corner of the school's massive playground. It takes up their entire Saturday. They have to work on weekends so the study time won't be compromised for this. The whole ground is bustling with teachers, each working on their own stands. They have to keep it a surprise from the other classes. Though, Harry doubts the kids will be able to hide things for too long.
"They love surprises," Louis assures him. "They won't ruin it. Least not our kids."
Harry believes him for some reason.
Following days include staying after school to make decorative items for their stall. Harry and Louis spend even more time than they did before. They have to arrange everything, banners, lights and such. Laura and her other artful friends help in making little pieces of beautiful craft to hang around their stall. Harry is grateful and glad to have a small touch of his students in their work.
Soon enough, the day of the fair rolls around. Harry goes to Louis' house the day before to bake and make their gingerbread items. It's a complete chaos. Within an hour of him being there, Louis and Zayn's kitchen floor is covered in flour. Even the walls and both of their faces have flour sticking to them.
"I told you I can't bake!" Louis shrieks.
"Yeah you did! But when you said that, I imagined you'd make some shit cookies at most. Not turn your kitchen into a flour desert!"
Harry dusts off the flour from all over his body. His cheeks hurt from how much he laughed. Louis' face is flushed from it, brown hair looking like a nest. Yet Louis' eyes are lit with so much joy, bluer than the oceans, laughter dancing in the little green specks. Harry feels himself get lost in them, Louis looking right back. 'Has Louis always looked this pretty?' He can't help but think.
They're snapped out of their trance by the sound of the oven beeping. Harry blinks. Louis is covered from head to toe in flour, looking an absolute mess. Why did Harry think he looked pretty?
He doesn't get to think much about it because before he knows Louis moves to take the cookies out. Without mittens.
"Careful!" Harry yells too late, because the five year old disguised as an adult burns his hand and drops the tray in reflex.
"Ow! Sorry, fuck!" He shakes his hand. Harry rushes to him.
"It's okay," Harry says as he gently takes the burnt hand and examines the damage. The palm looks painfully red, Harry can only imagine how much it must burn.
"Always wear mittens when baking," Harry instructs uselessly.
"M'sorry," Louis mumbles.
"Do you have any ointment or something for the burn?"
"It's okay," Louis says, shaking his head. Harry looks at him. He sighs. "Bathroom. Cabinet right about the sink."
Harry's moving before Louis finishes. He doesn't miss the small 'mum' Louis lets out.
He gets Louis to sit on the couch as he brings the ointment, then he gently applies it all over the palm. Louis stays still the entire time, not making any noises. Harry looks up at him to find his face gone slack.
"Does it hurt a lot?"
"Huh? Um, no. Not much," Louis stutters out. Harry smiles.
"Your face says otherwise."
Once he's done applying the ointment he instructs Louis in all the things he should and shouldn't do with that hand. He'd once burned his hand and his mum had given him similar instructions.
When he's done, Louis' smiling softly at him.
"What?"
"You're so caring."
Harry reddens instantly. "We're not doing this again," he says in a flat voice.
Louis laughs. "C'mon! It's a simple compliment."
"I don't like those."
"Fine, I'll insult you from now on."
Harry nods eagerly. "Please do."
Louis laughs again. "A degradation kink? Good to know."
Harry slaps his arm. "You're disgusting."
"Mine's praise, love."
"I hate you."
A lot of disasters, bad cookies and pretty much a whole day later, Harry and Louis are ready with their gingerbread items. They've made necklaces, bracelets, tiny houses, Christmas tree decorations and all of that from gingerbread. They look delicious, and Harry has to slap Louis' hand numerous times before he could reach one "just for a taste, Harold. We need to know how they taste, don't we?"
"I'm taking them back to my flat," Harry says.
Louis gasps. "You don't trust me?!"
"No," Harry says without hesitation.
"C'mon, Harold. I won't eat any cookies, okay? Promise."
"Not even a bite."
"Not even a tiny..?- okay! Don't look at me like that. I won't even touch them."
"If I see even one cookie missing or out of shape, Louis Tomlinson, I swear to God–"
"I won't! Jesus. It's like my mum's possessed you today." Harry cracks a smile. But in the end believes him and leaves them there.
It's nearly midnight and Harry can't sleep. So he finally picks up his phone and sends a text.
-how many have you eaten by now
-none
-and the truth?
-like. one
-I said truth louis
-...four.
-touch one more and our friendship is over.
Harry places the phone at his bedside and goes to sleep, ignoring the continuous vibrations that follow.
He's physically unable to stay mad at Louis like he'd planned to. The man tries his best to butter Harry, complimenting everything about him from left and right since he knows Harry's weaknesses very well by now.
In the end, however, Harry only cracks when Louis makes the face with huge eyes that resembles Mila's when she wants him to stay and cuddle her or when she wants more Churu.
"I'm sorry," Louis pleads.
Harry sighs. "Fine."
Louis leaps on him, wrapping all four limbs around him. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you, man."
Harry knows he meant it in a platonic way. He knows it. So why does it make his heart do weird things? Harry ignores the thought.
They set up all the items in their stall. His threat had worked, and Louis hadn't eaten another cookie after the first four.
They stand in the front of their stall, as the kids and their parents start filing in. They're dressed as gingerbread men, looking absolutely ridiculous but it does make the kids giggle a lot so it's all good.
"I would've said you're looking good, Louis," Zayn says as he walks over to them, "but I would be lying."
"Go fuck yourself somewhere else, Zayn."
"Only Harry is somewhat pulling it off," he continues, ignoring Louis. Harry grins, cheeks warm. "You, however, look like a soggy, melting Gingerbread man."
"It's not my fault they were out of the ones my size!" Louis complains.
"It is your fault if you didn't go early," Zayn chastises him.
"Unlike you guys, I'm not free all day."
"Yeah, busy munching on other people's cookies," Harry can't help but comment, although there's an obvious joking time to his voice.
Louis gapes at him. "I thought you forgot me for that!" Harry winks.
Zayn tsks. "Bad Louis, very bad." He turns to the kids amusedly watching the exchange. "Isn't Mr. Tomlinson such a bad man, kids?"
They three tweens giggle at that, looking at Louis with bright eyes. Louis puts on a lot of effort to keep acting offended.
"No one loves me," he cries, mocking misery. The kids giggle even more.
"We love you, Mr. Tomlinson!" One of the girls says. Louis looks at them and grins.
"Oh you do? Oh thank you so much! Here's a free cookie for each of you for loving me." The kids shriek as they grab the cookies from Louis' hand. Harry looks on fondly. He'd always known it but Louis is really good with kids. He treats them like Harry imagines he'd treat his younger siblings. And that's just one of the most amazing things about this man Harry's befriended.
Apparently, the news spreads. And all the kids rush over to them to tell Louis they love him just to get free cookies. Louis is in a dilemma now and Harry is extremely entertained.
"Help me, arsehole," Louis hisses to him.
Harry chuckles. "Can't do much, sadly. You gotta get out of this one yourself."
"Harry, please!" Louis pleads. Then makes that Mila face again. "Hazza. Pretty please?"
Harry sighs. "It's like my cat's possessed you today," he murmurs, mimicking Louis' comment from the other day.
Louis grins. "You adore Mila."
"Unfortunately, I really do." He turns to look at the kids. "Hey, kiddos. Have you heard about Mr. Horan's game stall? If you win, you'll get a massive plush bear!" He gestures the size with his arms. The kids gasp. "Yeah, it's the softest thing ever! C'mon, run before someone else wins it. There's just one!"
The kids skitter away. Louis exhales loudly in relief. "Thank you so much, Haz. You're a life saviour."
"I only accept paybacks, no thank yous."
"Sure sure." Louis makes a face. Harry smiles.
They're out of all the gingerbread items in just two hours, even the back up ones. Excluding the ones Louis had to give away for free, the number of tokens they gained from their sale is actually more than enough. Now all they have to do is exchange these tokens for real money, which will then be used as class funds.
That can wait, though. For now, Louis and Harry are going to enjoy the rides.
They go everywhere they like. Together. Louis insists on visiting Zayn's photo booth first. They take a lot of photos with Christmas decorations and then go outside to talk to the incharge. Zayn is standing alone, they have no idea where his partner is. He looks lost in thought but when Louis and Harry follow his eyesight, they realise what -or who- he's looking at.
Liam Payne is standing just a few stalls over, amidst numerous Christmas trees as he helps kids decorate them.
"He looks so pretty under those lights," Zayn sighs. Harry has to hold in his laugh.
"Oh no," Louis says. "Zayn's in his love cheesy poetry phase again."
Harry can't hold in his laugh.
"I hate you," Zayn grumbles. "You'd never know what being in love feels like, you heartless Grinch."
Louis looks offended. "Excuse me, I love Christmas. And more importantly, I love love." He shrugs. "Just haven't found the right person yet."
"Well, I have," Zayn retorts. "So you can't say shit to me."
Louis raises his hands in surrender. "Woah ok. We've got a protective boyfriend here, everybody!"
"Will you shut your mouth?!" Zayn hisses. Too late, Liam's attention has been caught and he waves. Zayn looks back stoically. Liam's smile falters a little and his hand falls back before he turns to the kids again. His shoulders are literally drooping.
Zayn sighs, face palming. "I'm totally mucking this up."
Louis and Harry give each other a look, both of them smiling sympathetically. "What happened at the concert date?" Harry asks.
Zayn shrugs, a signature move. "It was okay. We mostly just watched the performances."
"So, no advancements?"
Zayn shakes his head, sadly.
"Not even a 'we should do this again?'"
"I think he was waiting for me to say it."
"So, did you?"
Zayn looks at the ground, not answering. They know it either way.
"This is not going to work if you don't make an effort from your side, Zayn," Harry tells him, gently. Zayn simply sighs. Louis clicks his fingers, face stretched in a grin.
"I have an idea!"
"No," Zayn says.
"Hear it first!"
"I don't wanna. I know it's shit."
Louis turns to Harry anyway. "How about, we set him… a thirst trap!"
"No," Zayn whines.
"What do we do?" Harry asks eagerly at the same time. Zayn looks at him in betrayal, Harry shrugs. Zayn rolls his eyes.
"Yes! I knew you had my side through thick and thin, my dear Harold. Okay, listen. I read this book, where this guy liked this other guy and to impress him, he basically did a strip dance while washing his car. It was ridiculously hot."
"You're right about the first thing. It's ridiculous ," Zayn says.
"I think it sounds really fun," Harry says excitedly.
"You," Zayn points at him, "are not getting that Flannel shirt anymore."
Harry gasps. "No! I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I hate the idea."
It's Louis who gasps this time. "Harold! You're willing to compromise our friendship for some stupid flannel?!"
"Well, I've always wanted that shirt but never found it for an affordable price…" Louis pouts.
"Mean. You're all selfish and mean!"
He walks away. Zayn rolls his eyes. Harry feels guilty.
"Get a drink in him and he'd be back to normal in seconds," Zayn advises sagely.
Harry chuckles, nodding. "Noted."
Harry doesn't have to wait too long for the alcohol, for soon enough, the fair is over and Niall is inviting all the teachers to his house for a party.
Niall's flat is big enough to fit the whole group, and he's already decorated his house for Christmas even though it's three days away still. There's Christmas lights, a small, decorated Christmas tree, and a beautiful red rug that Harry hopes won't get ruined after tonight's party.
Niall has already prepared his famous punch that Harry's only heard of in spoken tales. Now he gets to drink it.
"Niall makes the best punches," Perrie gushes to him.
"So I've heard," Harry smiles. "Can't wait to drink."
And drink he does. One sip and Harry's asking for more and more and more to the point where there's the pleasant buzz in his head.
He goes to search for Louis then. And finds him on the couch, cuddled up between Zayn and Perrie. The moment he sees Harry he holds his arms out.
"Harold!" He yells.
"Lewis!" Harry yells back and jumps on top of him.
"It's just Lou-eeee," he slurs in Harry's ear. Harry giggles.
"It's just Harr-eeeee as well."
Zayn sighs. "We've got two drunks here, send them home!"
Harry sits up. "I'm not drunk," he says soberly. Then giggles. "M'just… buzzzzzzzed."
Louis giggles along. "Like a beeee."
"Yup," Harry says, popping the 'p'. Then frowns.
"What happened, Hazza?" Louis asks, poking his forehead.
"I just remembered I don't have anything with a bee pattern."
"Oh noooo," Louis coos. "We need to get you something bee patterned!"
"We need to, we need to!"
"Grow up," Zayn says.
"Can't believe these two are so lightweight," Perrie says, laughing. The two of them pout at her.
"I said I'm not drunk!" He clumsily gets out of Louis' lap and stands up. "See? I can stand straight!"
"So can I!" Louis yells and jumps to stand beside Harry, but loses his balance a little. Harry straightens him. Then looks at Perrie.
"This one is drunk." Perrie laughs out loudly.
"You two are such adorable drunks!"
"Not drunk!"
"Sure, babe."
Harry doesn't drink after that, but Louis doesn't hold back much. After two more drinks and Louis starting to slouch against him, Harry decides it's time to go home.
"Come on," he tells Louis, helping him stand up. "Let's get you home."
"I can walk," Louis says, still he leans slightly on Harry.
Harry decides to drop Louis straight to his house. They tell both Niall and Zayn that they're headed off. It's quite late when they step outside. There's not many vehicles or pedestrians in sight. The roads are lit with street lamps. It's quiet. It's also very cold.
Thankfully, they're both drunk enough to not start shivering yet.
"Today was fun," Louis says all of a sudden. Harry turns to look at him. He's looking ahead. His profile is outlined by the golden light of the street lamps, cheeks flushed red with alcohol –or maybe the cold, Harry doesn't know. Wisps of air escape his mouth when he breathes out.
Harry probably hadn't noticed until now how long Louis' eyelashes are; the way they brush his defined cheekbones ever so gently. His button nose, as red as his cheeks, begs to be booped. So Harry goes ahead and does it.
Louis looks at him amusedly. "What was that?"
"Your nose asked me to," Harry says, shrugging. Louis chuckles, shaking his head.
"You're impossible, Harry Styles."
'And you're gorgeous,' Harry thinks. Then halts. 'cause, what?
Why does his mind keep coming up with these thoughts? Louis is a friend, he reminds his brain. He's never had these thoughts about a friend. What's wrong with him?
"What's wrong?" Louis asks, as if reading his mind. He walked a couple steps ahead after Harry stopped. When Harry looks up, he finds Louis looking back at him. His eyes are warm, and look almost olive coloured under the yellow lights.
"Nothing," Harry tells him. Because it really is nothing. Harry's just very drunk. It's the alcohol. It's nothing.
They reach Louis' building and stop in front of the gate. Louis turns to look at him. Harry smiles.
"See you soon, then?" They're not seeing each other until after Christmas. Louis' going to Doncaster tomorrow, to celebrate his birthday with his family, he'd told Harry. Harry will be going to Homes Chapel as well. It'll be days before they meet again.
Harry's already missing Louis and they haven't even parted ways yet. It's all so strange. He feels like staying, he doesn't want to separate from Louis yet. Not now. Why is he feeling like this?
Louis bites his bottom lip, Harry subconsciously eyes the movement. Then stops himself. He's drunk a little too much than he thought. Louis looks at him, face a picture of hesitation.
"Would you," he starts then trails off.
"Would I what?" Harry urges, slightly breathless. He feels hopeful. Why does he feel hopeful?
Louis adjusts his fringe, before exhaling sharply and looking at Harry with much firmer eyes than before. "You can stay the night," he says, voice unwavering. "If you'd like to."
"You wouldn't mind?" Because Harry would like to. He'd really like to.
If there even was any uncertainty in Louis' mind before, it's completely gone now. He smiles at Harry. "Not at all. It's late enough to travel anyway. It'd take you an hour at least to get home. Stay here." He reaches out and grabs Harry's hand. As if Harry was going to run away. Harry won't. He can't.
"Alright," Harry says, and Louis' face lights up like a 1000 watt bulb. He doesn't let go of Harry's wrist, instead begins pulling him along as they walk inside the building. Harry goes easily, trying hard to bite down the painfully wide grin threatening to split his face.
"Would Mila be okay?" Louis asks suddenly, as if he just remembered.
Harry shakes his head. "Left her at the neighbours'" Louis' face lifts with relief and they both continue their way to Louis' flat.
It's not the first time Harry's been here, but it's the first time he's been here at this time of the night. The outside city lights are entering the room through the window, casting shapes around the room. Louis switches the lights on, illuminating the room with its own light.
Harry sits on the couch as Louis brings the two of them water. "To sober up a little," he tells Harry. "Don't want to be hungover when I'm visiting me family."
Harry nods and gulps the whole glass down.
They stay quiet for a while, neither attempting to start any conversations. There's never been this kind of comfortable silence between them. Harry doesn't know if he hates it or likes it.
"I'll take the couch then," Harry says finally. His voice seems to catch Louis off guard, who blinks as if to recollect what was said.
"Oh, um, you can take the bed," Louis says, hesitantly. And to be honest, Harry actually really wants to. He's got the back of a ninety year old, and couches don't suit him. But he feels he would be overstepping a little too much if he did take the bed. So he shakes his head.
"I'll be fine," he tells Louis. They say their good nights and Louis goes to his room.
An hour later, and Harry isn't even the slightest bit fine. The alcohol induced buzz has worn off and he should be asleep by now. But he's not, because of two things. One, the couch is too fucking small to fit his giraffe legs. Two, it's not comfortable enough for an adult, especially one with back problems, to be able to sleep. Harry tosses and turns for who knows how long, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. The ratty couch creaks beneath him when he moves too much. Harry winces every time there's a rather loud sound, worried he'd wake Louis up.
He is unable to be too careful though, because soon, Louis' stepping out of his room looking tired and sleepy. 'And adorable ,' Harry pushes the thought back.
"What's wrong?" He asks, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.
Harry smiles sheepishly, he wonders if Louis can see it in the darkness. "Sorry to wake you up, I really didn't mean to."
Louis shakes his head. "I'm a light sleeper, don't worry. Is the couch uncomfortable? I told you, you can take the bed."
"But, I mean, it's your house. I can't just–"
Harry shuts up when Louis raises a hand.
"We're friends, Harold."
"Still–"
"If you have any problem with me sleeping on the couch, let's just take the bed together," Louis blurts. Harry's eyes widen. Is Louis still drunk?
"What?"
"I said it clearly enough," Louis says. "We're friends, not strangers. If we can hug and cuddle each other all the time then there should be no problem in sharing a bed. Now c'mon, don't keep me up for too long, I have an early train to catch."
Harry doesn't say another word and quietly follows Louis to his room. It's dark in there with the curtains shut, so Harry noiselessly climbs into the bed. Louis climbs in behind him.
Harry lies back, the bed is so much more soft and comfy than the couch. Still he feels just a little bit awkward sleeping beside Louis. His bedmate sighs heavily as he begins to fall asleep beside Harry. Harry, on the other hand, stays stiff on his side of the bed. He pulls the duvet around him closer, trying to absorb the warmth it provides. For some reason though, he really misses the warmth of Mila. He wishes she were here, cuddled up to his neck. It's how he's able to fall asleep on sleepless nights.
He didn't even wear socks today. Since he was wearing his favourite Chelsea boots for the occasion. His feet get cold easily. Harry wraps them up in the blanket in an effort to warm them a little.
"Stop shuffling around so much," comes Louis' sleep heavy voice from beside him.
Harry stills. "Sorry."
There's a soft sigh, before arms are wrapping around him and pulling him in. Harry's back rests against Louis' chest. His heart beat speeds up.
"Lou?" He calls, breathlessly.
"Sleep," Louis whispers in his ear, warm breath hitting his neck. Harry immediately relaxes, smiling a little as his eyes slip close. Louis' feet tuck Harry's own between them, they're warm against Harry's colder ones.
With the weight of Louis' arms around his body, the press of his chest to Harry's back and with the warmth of Louis' feet to his own, Harry dozes off.
It might be the best sleep he's had in ages.
~
Before Harry can even knock on the door of his childhood home, his mum has opened it and is wrapping him up in her arms. Harry sighs at the warmth of her loving embrace and wraps his own arms around her waist.
"Hi, mum," he murmurs in her hair.
"Welcome home, baby," Anne says, hugging him tighter before letting go. Harry leans in to kiss her cheek. She smiles warmly at him. Oh how he's missed her.
Mila leaps in her arms from where she is standing beside him. "Hey there, lovely," Anne greets her. She meows and nudges her face. If there's one person Mila loves more than Harry, it's his mum. Anne looks at him and smiles. "Come on in, it's bloody cold out here."
Harry chuckles as he's rushed in by his mother. His home is just as he remembers it. Cosy and full of memories. Not a thing out of place.
"Come on, come on," Anne pulls him along by a gentle grip on his forearm, Mila held in her other arm. "Let me fix you some breakfast. You must be starving. Would you like some tea along with, darling?"
Harry can only nod, not wanting to interrupt her motherly fussing. He's missed her so much.
"It's been so long since you've come home. Tell me everything that's happening with you, alright? I feel like you've been gone for years!"
Harry smiles softly. "I've missed you, mum."
Anne stops in her tracks, turning around to give him a wobbly smile. "I've missed you too, my love."
"And the drama begins."
Anne rolls her eyes. Harry grins at his sister who's standing in the doorway of the kitchen, tucked in a familiar jumper holding a mug in her hand.
"Hey, Gem."
"Hey, little bro," she walks up to him and gives him a tight hug.
Harry inhales. "That's my jumper."
"Shh," Gemma says, placing a finger on his lips. "Sharing is caring. First rule of being siblings, ',member?"
"Yeah yeah. I'm taking that yellow jumper of yours too, then."
Gemma grins. "Spilled tea all over it yesterday."
Harry gasps at her. "You little–"
"Alright, kiddos," Anne claps her hand. There's a fond look on her face. "As I said, breakfast first, chatting later. Come on."
It's finally Christmas holidays and Harry can finally spend some time with his family after months of staying away. He's not exaggerating when he says he's terribly missed them. Mila is the sweetest companion, but she can't fill the hole of missing his family in his heart.
After spending the night at Louis', Harry woke up fresher than ever even though he'd had a drinking session the previous night. He was going to leave as soon as he woke up, but Louis insisted on having breakfast. When he left Louis' house, Harry felt like he'd left something of his own behind him. It was a strange feeling that Harry was afraid to explore, so he ignored it. They did promise to stay in contact while they're both away and Harry's glad for that.
He spends the rest of the day just telling his family everything about his new school and his colleagues. Most of the stories, without his realisation, revolve around Louis. His mum and sister listen to him talk with fond expressions on their faces. Harry guesses they're just as glad to get to spend time with him as he is.
When he goes to his childhood bedroom after breakfast with his family, Harry suddenly remembers he had to let Louis know of his arrival.
He pulls out his phone and finds a text from Louis waiting for him.
Lou 💙
-got home like an hour ago
-only texting you now bc i just got out of being absolutely swaddled by my siblings
Harry giggles, imagining Louis being stuck in a massive group hug made mostly of kids. It's not hard to imagine, since he's seen it happen numerous times already with the students. Harry types in his reply.
-just got home too
-and same here.
-wasnt swaddled by siblings tho but my own mum
-proper fussed over me she did
Before he can lock his phone, a read receipt appears below his text followed by the three dancing dots. Harry eagerly waits for Louis' text.
-mums are epitome of emotions
-i feel you
-my mum nearly strangled me with how hard she hugged lol
Harry laughs quietly to himself. He bites his lip, smiling as he types out his reply.
-cause of death: mum's hug
-hahahahaha yeah
-best way to die imo
-it would be wouldn't it
-yup
-she can smother me in my sleep and id still be kissing her hand
Harry smiles. From all that Harry's found out about Louis, the most prominent thing about him is how loving he is of people close to him. Which just makes it so much more understandable how dear he holds his family to his heart. They mean the absolute world to him and it shows in the way he talks about them.
He's the perfect guy in every way.
Harry's so glad he came to know Louis. There isn't another person that he'd admire as much as he does Louis. He admires everything about Louis. His character, his behaviour towards others, his sense of humour, his opinions, his choices, his…looks. Now let's be honest here, Louis is very good looking. All his colleagues are good looking. When Harry first saw them all he doubted if he somehow stepped into a magazine shoot. They all look like they could be on the front page of Vogue or something.
Memories of the night of the Christmas fair crosses Harry's mind. The quiet of midnight, the chilly breeze, the golden lamps, and Louis looking like an angel under their light.
Harry shakes his head. He has to keep reminding himself that Louis is a friend. And all these feelings are too new for him to think about them comfortably. He doesn't like the way his heart races when he thinks about those emotions. He doesn't know how or when he even started feeling like this. He just wants the feeling to go away. Louis is his best friend and he'd hate to feel uncomfortable in the man's presence.
He pushes all the thoughts to the back of his mind, clicks his phone shut and lands heavily on his bed. His day has been long and tiring enough with all the travelling and catching up. So it doesn't take long for sleep to take hold of him.
He dreams of blue eyes looking nearly olive under golden lights and warm feet against his. He doesn't remember any of the dreams when he wakes up late the next day.
~
Harry is very lucky to have Gemma as a sister.
Apart from the usual banter and her ridiculous habits of embarrassing Harry, she's usually a very supportive and understanding sister.
Until she says shit that upsets him.
The thing about Gemma is that she loves to be the know-it-all when it comes to Harry. She finds joy in leaving him dumbfounded.
Harry really, really hates that.
But what he hates even more is when she points things out about him as if they were obvious. As if she knows him better than he does himself. She always does that.
Especially when it comes to his love life.
All Harry was doing was scrolling through his Instagram. He had nothing to do that day, so he decided he'd check up on his social media. Post a relatable meme or two on his stories, like some photos, reply to his dms, etcetera etcetera.
But he couldn't do any of that because the moment he opened the app, the first post on his homepage was Louis'.
Louis is in Doncaster spending the Christmas holidays with his family. The picture was of Louis with whom Harry can only assume are his sisters. They all have similar features, especially those bright blue eyes. The bunch of siblings are wrapped together, standing in what seems like a backyard. There's snow in the background, and the light it reflects makes their silhouettes almost glow. It's a lovely picture. They all look so soft and adorable all bundled up in thick clothes and hugging each other. Louis in the middle surrounded by his siblings.
Harry looks closely at Louis' face. He has the widest smile stretched on his face. His cheeks are flushed pink from the cold, but his eyes are bluer as ever, corners crinkled like they always do when he's way too happy.
He zooms in. Louis' face gets bigger and bigger until all that fills his mobile screen is Louis. Harry bites his smile as he looks at the wide grin on Louis' face. He remembers all those times he made the man smile like that, and he doesn't even realise he is blushing until he hears the sound of a throat being cleared.
Harry's head snaps up to find Gemma standing at the doorway of his room. His phone drops from his hand in surprise.
"What's got you smiling like that?"
"Uh-" Harry starts, but can't continue. He thinks of a reply but nothing comes to his head. All his brain can conjure is the bright, smiling face of Louis.
Gemma's eyes land on the phone lying on the carpeted floor, screen lit and Louis' face grinning back at them along with his siblings.
Gemma rushes forward, but before she can reach it Harry picks the phone up and hides it behind him, locking it.
Gemma stands in front of his bed, hands on her hips.
"Show me," she demands.
"No."
Gemma narrows her eyes. "What are you hiding?"
"I'm not hiding anything!" She purses her lips.
"Then show me your phone," she demands again, holding her hand out.
Harry holds it further from her reach. "Why do you want to see it?"
"I just do," she shrugs, wiggling the fingers of her hand that's held out.
"Why?"
"I wanted to see that picture you took of Mom yesterday," she says, face neutral.
"I sent it to you." It's true. Harry did.
Gemma shrugs again. It's annoying the hell out of Harry. "I accidentally deleted it."
Harry swallows. "I'll send it to you again."
Gemma stares sharply at him. "Do it now."
"I said I'll do it later!" Can she just leave him alone, already?
"No. You'll forget. Do. It. Now." They stare into each other's eyes for a few long seconds, unblinking and pointedly. Finally, Gemma rolls her eyes. "I won't take the phone."
Harry narrows his eyes. "Promise."
Another eye roll. "Yeah, yeah, sure, whatever." She takes a couple small steps back. "Such an arse."
"You are!" Harry retorts, carefully pulling the phone out. It auto-locked while they were arguing, so Harry goes to unlock it. As soon as the phone clicks open, Gemma dashes to grab it. Harry reflexively holds it away, but Gemma tackles him. The force of the impact makes him fall back on the bed and the phone slips from his hand, falling beside him.
Gemma quickly picks it up and Harry groans. "You're the worst! Give it back!" Harry reaches for it but Gemma pulls it away.
"I want to see what you were hiding."
"Can't I get a bit of privacy here? I'm a bloody adult now!" Harry whines, knowing it's useless.
"You don't need privacy from your sister," she says and looks at the screen.
"Yes I do," Harry tells her, lips in a thin line. Gemma doesn't reply, instead looks closely at the screen of his phone. She zooms in, and her eyes widen. Harry closes his eyes to prepare himself for what's coming.
"So this is Louis," Gemma says, slowly. Her face slack in realisation.
Harry sighs. "Yeah.."
" The Louis," Gemma repeats. As if the first time wasn't clear enough. "Teacher Louis."
Harry grits his teeth. "I said, yes."
Gemma looks at him. " Your Louis."
At that, Harry instinctively turns red. "He's not mine-" Harry stops speaking. Gemma doesn't say anything. "He's my friend," Harry tells her. He doesn't know why he said that. He thought he'd made it clear when he first told them about him.
"Are you sure?" Gemma asks, eyes narrowed.
Harry's eyes go wide. "Of course! Didn't I tell you the first time? He's a very close friend, we teach the same class-"
"I know all that," Gemma interrupts sharply. Her face goes a bit softer as she says, "Are you sure he's just a friend?"
Harry gulps. "W-what do you mean?"
Gemma's entire posture loosens and she sits down beside him. Harry curls into himself, although he doesn't know why. She places a hand on his lap.
"Hazza," she starts, looking like she's choosing her words carefully. "Do you like Louis?"
"Of course, I like him!" Harry tells her, it more like shouts at her. "He's a really nice guy. Everyone likes him!"
"Not like that ," Gemma says, then tamps down her annoyance. She almost looks sympathetic right now. Harry is starting to hate this more and more. He wants Gemma to leave him alone. "I mean, do you like Louis in a..romantic..way."
Harry opens his mouth but no words escape.
Romantic.
Does he like Louis like that ? Does he have feelings for Louis? But, if he did, Harry would've known, right? Harry would have realised at some point. He's not dumb or whatever.
'I don't-" Harry starts then shakes his head. "What even made you think that?"
Gemma raises her eyebrows. "You, you dumb-arse!"
Harry blinks. "Me?"
"Yes, you! Have you looked at yourself? Have you heard yourself lately? Ever since you've come here all you talk about is that guy. 'Louis this, Louis that.' It's all we've been hearing from you. Do you even have any other friends? And the way you talk about him! Have you seen your face when you think of him? It goes all soft, in a way I've never seen it go."
Harry opens his mouth but Gemma keeps talking.
"You're always only talking to him, either texting or calling. And you're always smiling like an idiot throughout it. I've seen you, Harry. You do it every time. Even when not talking to him. Like just a few minutes before. You were smiling while looking at his picture, for fuck's sake! You were all red. How does that not scream 'having feelings' for you?!"
Harry can feel the entire blood in his body rush to his face as Gemma talks. His heart is thudding in his chest and his thoughts are all scrambled and incoherent.
Does he actually like Louis?
"B-but," Harry stutters out. "I…I would've known, right? I would've known that I liked him. I would've realised it. I never thought that. I always thought Louis was just a friend. I… How can I have feelings for my best friend?!"
He's so confused. Nothing makes sense.
He must look very troubled because Gemma's face turns soft again, all frustration evaporating. She doesn't say another word and pulls him in her arms. Harry hides his face in her shoulder, breathing into the soft fabric of her jumper.
"Hazza," she starts, and Harry feels a hand start running along the bend of his backbone. It's comforting and Harry tries to focus on the touch rather than the mess of his thoughts. "It's okay."
It's not. It's not okay. Nothing fucking makes sense. How can it be okay?
"You can't control your feelings, love."
"I don't- I don't even know if I have them for real," he murmurs in her jumper.
"That's okay too," she coos in his ears. "Feelings are complicated. You don't always just understand everything immediately. It takes time. And you have it. You have time. I want you to figure it all out, alright?"
"I can't- Gem, I.."
Gemma shushes him. "There's nothing to think about. It'll come to you. If you really like him, you'll know. Now you definitely will. And if you don't, then you'll know that too. I just told you what I assumed. It's not the final word. You can figure it all out in your own time, okay? Don't stress too much about it."
Harry sighs. "I don't know, Gems."
"It's okay," she repeats. "It's alright."
But is it really?
Gemma begins to pull away, so Harry lets go of the fabric of her jumper at her back he didn't even realise he was gripping so hard at.
She holds his face in both her palms and looks into his eyes. "And one more, very important thing. It's okay to fall for your best friend. It happens. You can't control it. So if you do end up liking him, don't blame yourself, alright? It's not your fault."
Harry nods, closing his eyes.
This is a mess.
All he was doing was looking at his best friend's picture. Gemma just had to go drop a bombshell like that on him.
It's too much to think about. And also something, Harry realises, he's been pushing to the back of his mind for a while now. That day at Louis' house when they were baking, the night after the Christmas fair, and numerous times like this when Harry simply chose to ignore his confusing feelings.
It was all well and good until Gemma pulled out those thoughts from the back of his mind and pushed them right in his face.
She might want him to figure it out, but Harry realises how messy that would be.
So, as always, he's going to not think about it ever again. If he doesn't acknowledge it, it won't happen. He won't have to deal with a whole bout of confusion and trouble.
Harry's going to ignore these feelings until they disappear completely from his heart.
That's the best course of action.
It'll work out, he's sure…
…maybe.
~
"There's no way you hate apple pie, Harold. Do you need someone to talk to? Has life been hard lately?"
Harry giggles as he falls back against his soft bed. The lights in his childhood room are turned off, so the only light enters from the huge window at the side. The digital clock at his bedside glares the digits 23:50 back at him.
10 more minutes. He has to keep Louis on the phone for just 10 more minutes. He doesn't think it'll be hard at all. They've been talking for over an hour already.
"It's an opinion, Lou! You can't shame me for having a bit of a different opinion than most!"
"Oh, but I can!" Louis yells on the phone. "Because I am your friend and I have earned the right."
"No, you haven't. I never gave you it."
"Oh, so you mean I can praise you for your amazing taste in music. But when it comes to your ridiculous choices related to food, I'm suddenly a stranger to you?!"
"First of all, thank you very much," Harry says, grinning and –only slightly– feeling proud of himself at Louis' comment about his taste in music. "Secondly, I don't have ridiculous choices in all kinds of food, alright? I just don't like food made from apples. But I do love apples as a fruit. They're delicious."
"You do have ridiculous choices in food. All kinds of food. You like kale juice, for fuck's sake. You're a disgrace to humanity, Harry Styles. You should have never been blessed with a human life. You should've been a cow or goat or something."
Harry tries his best to bite in his laughter, but a snort does manage to escape. He can hear Louis' smile on the other side.
"Besides, you just accepted that not liking apple pie is ridiculous."
Harry gasps. "I did not!"
Louis mockingly gasps back. "You very much did! You said and I quote, 'I don't have ridiculous choices in all kinds of food but.. " and that 'but' proves, your honour, that you admit that you not liking apple pie is a horrid thing and you should be sentenced lifetime in a garden of apple trees forced to eat apples for the rest of your miserable life."
"You're full of shit," Harry laughs,simply unable to keep it in any longer.
"Thank you," Louis says, and Harry just knows he's smiling really wide. He looks at the clock again. His smile softens when he sees the double zeroes.
"I hate you," he says, though it's a lot more softer than he intended it to sound.
"I love you too, mate." Harry's smile falters. His heart absolutely doesn't skip a beat. He takes a shaky breath in. "Haz?" Louis asks from the other side when Harry doesn't say anything.
"Happy Birthday, Lou," Harry blurts out. Eyes wide and red cheeked and heart nearly in his throat. "I- um."
"O-oh," Louis says. It's quiet for a few seconds, as if Louis is still processing his words. "Thank..you." It's like Harry can imagine the smile growing on Louis' face in that amazingly gradual way it does. His lips curving more and more, the light behind his eyes glowing brighter and brighter and the crinkles at their corners getting deeper and deeper until he's nothing but a human embodiment of sunshine. "Thank you so much, Haz." His voice is so soft. Too soft. Like a feather caressing his ear. A whisper escaping the quiet of the night, reaching no one but Harry, only slightly dimmed of its usually saccharine sweetness because of the limits of technology and the great distance between the mouth and the ear.
And bloody hell, Harry's a primary school teacher not a fucking poet. Where did that come from?!
"I.." Harry can't say anything. His throat is dry. Feelings are unfurling in his heart, making it swell. Gemma's words ring at the back of his mind. Things suddenly make too much sense.
I really like you.
"You remembered," Louis says, sounding nearly surprised.
"Of course I did," Harry whispers, matter-of-factly. "How could I not?"
Louis laughs. It sounds strangely nervous. "Of course you do. You're me best mate, after all."
Harry heaves out a short breath. Right.
That.
"Yeah." There's silence. Harry doesn't like it. It's unusual. It's almost uncomfortable. It's like there's a wall between the two of them. It's thin and invisible and intangible but it's there. Harry wants to scratch a hole into it.
Their conversation doesn't progress because the very next moment Harry hears a loud bang on the other side followed by High pitched screams of happy birthday. Harry flinches but smiles when he realises it's Louis' sisters wishing him. He stays on the phone a few moments more but it seems Louis is engaged with his sisters, so Harry wordlessly hangs up, not wanting to invade his privacy.
He turns to his side, facing the window, and sighs.
This isn't how he imagined this conversation would go. He'd planned a bright greeting to Louis at exactly midnight. He'd imagined Louis gasping and thanking him and being surprised that Harry remembered. It happened that way too. Yet, for some reason, the reality feels so different from his imagination. Because Harry didn't imagine having all these heavy thoughts during their conversation.
He likes Louis.
In more than just a platonic way.
He's been trying to justify his feelings. He's tried so hard not to think too much about it. He tried to push them away, will them to disappear. But, as Gemma said, there's nothing to think about.
Harry likes Louis. It's the plain and simple truth. There's nothing he can do about it. Because it's how he feels. Even if he didn't want to. He just has those feelings. He just likes Louis.
But does Louis even like him back?
Harry takes a sharp breath and the three words echo in his mind. It's not how he meant it, of course. He followed it with a 'mate' for fuck's sake. It's not even the first time Harry heard Louis say it to him.
It's just…everytime Louis says that, Harry wishes it meant…more.
And tonight Harry nearly said it back. Until now, he never thought he might like Louis like that. Then suddenly he hears Louis say 'i love you' and boom, too many things make sense all at once.
Harry likes Louis. Romantically.
"Fuck." Harry buries his head under his soft pillow. Why is this happening to him? What is he going to do now? "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuuuuuuck."
"Hazza?" He hears Gemma whisper his name and pulls the pillow off to find her standing in his doorway looking concerned. "Is everything alright?"
"I like Louis," Harry blurts out.
Gemma's eyes go wide. "Oh."
"And he doesn't like me like that. "
Gemma opens her mouth, then closes it. She face palms in a way that would've been funny if Harry wasn't royally fucked right now.
Just– why has Harry's heart got to be so fucking sensitive. Falling for his best friend for the love of God.
"This is a disaster," Gemma finally comments, nothing better to say. Nothing like those wise words she spouted the day before while comforting his confused self.
Harry laughs humorlessly. "Yeah."
Royally fucked, was it? Yeah, no. Correction: Harry's universally fucked.
~
The remaining days of the holiday pass by in a blur.
Even after the holiday is over and he's on his way back to London, Harry's still reeling from the realisation of his feelings for his best friend.
What makes it worse is the knowledge of having to see Louis when he gets there.
Harry can't comprehend how he'll be able to face the man when even the thought of him makes all those fiery emotions rise in his heart.
"Fuck my life," he murmurs at the thought. He's been saying that a lot lately.
He clutches the handle of Mila's cage and rests his head against the glass of the train's window. It's frigid cold today and even being wrapped in a few layers of clothing, he can still feel himself shiver.
Or maybe it's not exactly the weather that's making him shiver.
He's supposed to call Louis when he gets to his flat. It takes about an hour and a half for him to get there. And it's not like he'd have to call the minute he steps in. He'll freshen up first, eat something, feed Mila, call his family that he's home safe and then he'll call Louis.
So he has more than two hours before he has to call Louis. Enough time to prepare himself so he won't sound like a bloody schoolgirl with a crush. He hopes it's enough, at least.
The train begins to slow down, he can see the station from this distance. Harry exhales, checks his belongings once, gathers his backpack and Mila's cage and gets up.
More than two hours. He can do this.
But, as it's become a force of habit apparently, fate has different plans.
The minute he steps down on the platform, he's being tackled hard.
Harry lets out a short scream, almost dropping the cage he's holding in one hand, before he realises who it is.
"Louis!" Harry yells, trying to act annoyed, but he doubts he can hide his amusement and fondness very well.
Louis leans his head back, still having his arms wrapped around Harry, and grins wide and bright, almost childish.
"Hey, Haz," he greets. "Missed you."
It's as his breath hits Harry's face that he realises how close they are. Bodies attached and face mere inches away from each other. Inadvertently, his gaze drops to Louis' pink lips. The urge to press his own against them threatens to choke him.
Harry rushes to get out of the hug, pulling away from the right hold and stepping back. He lets out a shaky breath and forcibly smiles at Louis. "Yeah. Missed you too."
Louis tilts his head in confusion. Looking so innocent and clueless. Like he has no idea what effect he has on Harry's poor, fragile heart. Like he doesn't know how the closeness between them grips around Harry's throat, makes the air around him too thin, makes it impossible for him to breathe normally. And, oh wait– he actually doesn't.
Things are going to get real hard for poor Harry from now on.
"Is everything okay?" Louis asks, reading the troubled look on Harry's face like he always does. He knows Harry so well. They both know each other so well. "You seem…upset."
"No!" Harry blurts, a little too loudly. Then swallows and slows down his thudding heart. "I mean, no, I'm not- I'm just– uh.."
Louis gives him a small, sympathetic smile. "Missing your family already?"
Harry blinks. "Uh, yeah. That. I do miss them." He does. "Didn't feel like parting with them so soon."
Louis chuckles. "Yeah, I can understand. Couldn't bring meself to leave me li'l sisters. They make the most effective puppy eyed faces ever, almost cried meself after seeing Dorris pout like tha'."
Another little thing about Louis that Harry adores, his accent gets very thick when he's emotional or touched. It's why he can't hide his soft corners very well.
Harry smiles at Louis as he looks up at the sky, being unable to hide all the fondness. Harry realises that everytime he saw Louis make that face, some tiny hidden part of him always wanted him to be the cause of it. He wonders if Louis could care about him so much, that his face will go all soft and fond and flustered every time he thinks of Harry.
He wouldn't be there to see it, though, so he'd probably never know. It'd probably never happen.
'.. you're me best friend.'
It'd definitely never happen.
"Harry?" He snaps out of his thoughts when he hears Louis call his name. The man is looking carefully at him, trying his best but failing to hide the concern in his eyes. Harry swallows as a small thought pokes the back of his mind.
Maybe Louis cares about him a lot too?
He can't think further because without warning, Louis steps closer and reaches a hand out. He doesn't breathe as he feels Louis' palm touching his own free one, nimble fingers wrapping around it. Louis holds it up and gently tugs at it.
Harry looks from their entangled hands to Louis' face, finding him smiling ever so softly.
"C'mon," is all Louis says, then turns around and begins walking, pulling Harry along. Harry asks nothing, says nothing, just stumbles along behind the man. The man that can make him stop breathing with just one simple contact.
They start walking. Their destination is unknown to Harry and he can't bring himself to ask. His mind is still taken by the warmth of the palm that's covering his hand. Their fingers are tangled between each other, making the grip a secure one. They've held hands a bunch of times before this, but this time, it feels different. A lot more soft, a lot more warm.
Harry takes slow attentive breaths. It's just his overwhelmed emotions that are making him spout bullshit like this. He's exaggerating and he knows it.
Still, he likes this. Holding hands. He likes it a lot. So much that his mouth involuntarily curves. He looks down at their feet, gripping at Mila's cage tightly, as he tries his best to hide the giddy smile that's taken over half of his face.
This is all so silly. They're just holding hands, for fuck's sake.
Harry likes it so fucking much.
Louis takes him to a nameless place a small distance away from the station. It's isolated, hidden behind tall trees with large canopies. It's a small wooden house, with twisted window panes and slanted roofs. The banner that hangs at the top is faded, words unreadable, hence nameless. Colourful Christmas lights are put up all over the roof and the walls. The door has a red and green welcome sign on it. It looks so cosy and warm.
"Where are we?" Harry is finally able to ask, observing the house.
Louis turns at him and smiles. "A special place I discovered only recently. C'mon, let's go in."
Harry, once again, wordlessly lets himself be pulled. The door is ratty and creaks as it opens and closes. Harry gasps as he gets a look at the interior. It's not at all what he expected when he saw the exterior.
The inner walls are painted in bright colours, abstract art decorating one of them. There are six wooden tables placed in two rows. The floor is covered by a red carpet. At one corner is a small fireplace, two armchairs and one large pillow arranged in a semicircle in front of it. A large Christmas tree is placed in the corner beside it, decorated with stars and lights and colourful balls. Small chandeliers made of colourful glass bottles hang from the roof. Fairy lights lit all the corners. The window panes have small plants placed on them, fake snow sprayed on each.
Harry looks at Louis in awe and confusion. Louis smiles back in pride.
"Was quite sad when I came back from Doncaster a couple days ago. Didn't feel like going to the flat so I just wandered around for a bit. Found this place hiding behind all these trees and got curious." He shrugs, Harry's jaw drops.
"So what you just walked in?"
Louis squawks. "No! I do have manners, Harold, what do you think of me? The owner called me in."
"The owner?"
As if in cue, Harry hears a trembling voice call out. "Hello."
They both turn to find a small old lady standing at the second door. Harry didn't even notice it, due to its small discreet appearance. And also because he was too busy admiring the rest of the interior. Louis breaks off into a grin and the lady also smiles in recognition.
"Hey, Mariam!" Louis greets and they both walk close to her.
"Hey there, Louis," Mariam greets back, the wrinkles on her face deepening with her smile. She turns to look at Harry, observing him with squinted eyes from behind her spectacles. "Is this your friend?"
"Yes. Hi, I'm Harry. Nice to meet you." He holds out a hand. Mariam's eyes light up as she shakes it, smile getting wider.
"Nice to meet you too, love." She turns back to Louis. "So this is Harry."
Harry frowns. Does she know him? He looks at Louis, who for some reason looks a little flustered.
"Uh, yeah. This is Harry." Mariam gives him a knowing smile. Harry still feels confused but before he can ask about it Mariam speaks up again.
"So, what would you both like to have? We have all kinds of hand made treats here. I can assure you, you'll never leave this place dissatisfied."
"I know that," Louis says. "That's why I brought him here." He turns to Harry. "Mariam's scones are the most delicious you'd have ever eaten, Harry. Trust me."
"I trust you," Harry blurts out. Louis looks taken aback for the tiniest amount of time before he grins wide.
"Great! Mariam, show Harry what you got."
Mariam snaps her fingers. "Right on it. Please take a seat while you wait. I'll be back in no time." Harry and Louis both thank her before she goes back inside the dark room.
They both sit at the nearest table by the window, facing each other. Harry once again takes a look at the whole place. It's effortlessly aesthetic, and cosy and warm and pretty.
"I love this," Harry tells Louis, who smiles.
"I knew you will," Louis tells him. "The first time I came here, I just knew I had to bring you someday."
Harry's heart stutters at that, he ignores it.
"So, what were you doing at the station?"
"I came to pick you up, duh. Wanted to surprise you."
"You mean scare me to death?" Harry asks, referring to the way Louis tackled him without warning. The man chuckles.
"Sorry about that. Didn't know you were so jumpy."
Harry scoffs. "Anyone would be scared if you jumped on them outta nowhere. Just be glad your head is safe."
Louis places a hand on his chest in offence. "You were going to kill me? You traitor!"
"Not if you hadn't attacked me like that."
"You're a traitor. You betrayed me. Broke my trust. I'll only be talking to Mila from now on. Our friendship is over." With that, Louis turns to Mila's cage that is resting on their table. He opens it and the cat comes out, gracefully making her way into Louis' arms. He wraps his arms around her and nuzzles her furry head with his chin. "It's just us two from now on, you can go fuck yourself."
Harry chuckles and shakes his head. "Child. You're a literal child."
Louis just turns his head away, hugging Mila tighter. Mariam chooses that moment to enter the scene, a large tray held in her hand.
"Here you go," she says, as she places two porcelain plates in front of both of them. Each plate carries two delicious looking scones on them. "The scones you ordered."
Harry smiles at her. "Thank you, Mariam." He picks one of the scones and takes a small bite into it. He nearly moans at the taste. "Oh my god, Mariam! This is the best thing I've ever put in my mouth!"
Mariam lets out a throaty chuckle. "I'm glad you like it."
"Like it? I love it!" He says after he swallows down the entire scone. "This is absolutely delicious."
"Told you," Louis says, pointedly. He's biting into his own scone. Harry can see he's trying his best to hide his smile and stay mad.
"You did," Harry agrees and starts to gobble down another scone. He turns to Mariam. "I would like to order another plate, please."
"Oh! Of course! Would you like some hot chocolate to go with it? It's quite cold out today."
Harry nods happily. "I'd love that." He turns to Louis. "What about you, Lou?"
Louis smiles. "Me too."
"Also, a bowl of milk for my cat here." Harry points at Mila, who was placed at the table to curl into herself when Mariam brought their scones.
Mariam claps her hands once. "Great! I'll be back in no time."
She takes her leave and Harry and Louis peacefully finish the rest of their scone.
"I really do love this, Louis," Harry says once they've eaten and are waiting for Mariam to return. "I'm very glad you brought me here."
Louis purses his lips. "I did. And what did you do in return? Break my trust."
Harry rolls his eyes, not hiding his smile. "You still on about that?"
"I'm still hurt and upset, yes." Louis crosses his arms.
Harry sighs heavily. "How about…I give you a present? Would that make you happy?"
Louis really is a child. Because at the mention of the present, his entire face lights up like Christmas lights. "You brought me a present?"
"Of course, I did. It was your birthday and Christmas. Presents are mandatory."
Louis leans in, grin outstretched and eager. "What is it?"
Harry grins cheekily. "Guess."
Louis scowls. "Show me."
"Woah, okay!" Harry raises his hand and then turns to his bag to pull the present out. He holds the small box wrapped in shiny blue paper out to Louis, who grabs it without hesitation.
"What is in this?"
Harry grins. "Open and find out!"
Louis wastes no time in opening it. He carefully removes the paper, to find a plain black cardboard box inside. When he opens the box, he gasps.
"Harry!" He picks up the silver ring from the box and looks at it in awe.
"It's a promise ring!" Harry says, cheerily. Louis looks up at him, his eyes wide and mouth still gaping open.
"This is.. I mean.."
"Do you like it?" Harry asks, softly, hesitantly. Harry has never seen Louis wear rings. But he never heard of Louis hating them either. He didn't know why he bought a ring specifically. He was just wandering around his town one day, thinking of what he could buy Louis for his birthday present. He couldn't come up with anything meaningful. Then he came across this pretty looking store and decided to wander in. The ring was placed in a large glass cabinet among other rings and jewellery items. The moment Harry's eyes fell on this one, he knew he had to get it for Louis.
It was the inscription that did it for him. A 'forever' inscribed in small cursive letters. It was before Harry found out about his feelings. At a time when he was so sure of how he and Louis would stay best friends forever. Now, though…
"I love it," Louis says, voice oddly shaky. Harry finds that even his eyes have welled up. His heart fills with immeasurable happiness at the idea of having made Louis so happy. "This is…Thank you so much, Hazza," Louis says in the softest voice ever, the one he used the night of his birthday, when he'd thanked Harry for wishing him.
Harry gives him a wobbly smile. There's something stuck in his throat that's preventing him from speaking.
Louis lets out a wet laugh, and puts the ring on his middle finger. "My present feels so silly and underwhelming after this."
Harry's eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. "You brought me a present?!" There's a warmth in his stomach, that isn't necessarily uncomfortable.
Louis shrugs. "A Christmas present, yeah. But it's not as great as yours–"
"I don't care!" Harry interrupts. "Show me!"
"It's too simple. Let me buy you something new–"
"I wanna see it, Louis." Harry glares at him.
"Okay, okay, geez." He picks up the tote bag that Harry has no idea where it came from, and places it in front of Harry.
Harry opens it and pulls out something soft wrapped in red paper. He looks at Louis confusedly, but the man is avoiding any eye contact, instead opting to stare at Mila who's licking her paw. Harry unwraps the present and nearly squeals at what he finds inside.
It's a pair of socks. Fuzzy and white with little bumblebees scribbled randomly all over it. It's so bloody adorable, and Louis' blushing face makes it worse.
"These are so cute ," Harry coos, squeezing the soft, woollen fabric between his fingers."I love them!" Harry says, sincerely.
Louis shrugs again, cheeks apple red. "It's not as good as your ring though."
Harry immediately shushes him. "Shut up. They're fucking adorable, alright? I really do adore these. Thank you so much," he says, in the most earnest way he can.
Louis cracks a smile, finally believing him.
"Why socks though?" Harry can't help but ask and then immediately regrets it because Louis' face goes red again.
"Well- I mean, the night of the Christmas fair, when you came to my house." Harry nods, as if he can forget that night. "You weren't wearing any socks and your- well, erm, your feet were very cold then so I just, I mean, I thought it might be a good idea to get you a pair." Louis runs the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. It's very rare for him to stutter so much, which makes this entire thing so bloody endearing. Louis is fucking shy. Harry adores this. "Which is quite silly because of course you'd already have tons of socks with you I didn't need to buy another pair-"
"I really appreciate it." Louis stops talking and stares at Harry, mouth open but no words coming out."
"You do?"
Harry blinks, surprised at how nervous Louis is about this. "Uh, yes? It's so thoughtful, that's what I appreciate about it so much." Louis blushes even more, Harry smiles fondly. "Why the bumblebees?" Harry asks when Louis doesn't say anything.
"Uh, the same night you said you wanted something with a bumblebee pattern and luckily I spotted these at a shop so." He shrugs, again, not looking at Harry at all.
Harry is rendered speechless by that. It was some bullshit he spouted off while he was drunk. He barely remembers saying it. Yet, Louis remembered it and took it to heart. What the hell does he say to that?
"That's," he starts, but trails off. Louis looks at him worriedly.
"Do you not like it?" He smiles, self-depreciation clear on his face. "It is stupid, isn't it?"
"No!" Harry rushes to say. "I really like it. I do! I just– I can't believe you got me something I hardly remember asking for."
If possible, Louis' face falls even more. "You didn't want it?"
Harry closes his eyes, he wants to punch himself in the face. How is he saying the wrong thing everytime? He's making it worse. He should've just thanked Louis and not said anything further. This is also a very strange and new situation for him. He's never seen Louis be so uncertain about anything before. He's always so confident and sure about everything. Why does a simple Christmas present matter to him this much?
Harry sighs, then looks at Louis dead in the eyes. The blue eyes he's come to adore so much are filled with insecurity and doubt. Harry wants to erase that expression and fill them with their usual blinding brightness. "Louis. I'm going to say this one time and you're going to listen to me quietly without arguing." Louis gulps and nods. "There haven't been many people that have ever put this much thought into what gifts they gave me. It's always been something direct, like a random thing. And it's not like I didn't appreciate that, but the fact that you worries so much about what to give me, worried about if I'd like it or not, remembered my needs and likes, it means more than I can tell you. It doesn't matter what the gift is. The thought behind it matters a lot more to me. So, I'm not lying when I say this is the best Christmas gift I've ever received."
It seems Harry finally said the right thing, because the sadness from Louis' face evaporates and the light that Harry wanted returned. Louis grins, wide and bright, eyes crinkling and face glowing like the sun. Harry's heart skips a beat like it does every time Louis smiles like that. And to be the cause of it this time makes him feel so happier.
I love you.
Harry forces his smile to stay on his face. This whole thing is escalating a lot faster than he wants it to. It's hard enough to handle a crush. Harry can't do love. He wants to run, he wants to flee. If he stays any longer here he'd fall deeper and deeper until he's drowning and there's no escape.
But for some reason, he can't move. He feels frozen where he is, held in his place by Louis. His bright smile and kind eyes and big, bold heart.
Harry realises then that there's no escape. He's already in too deep. There's no one way or another. He's fallen and the only way is down now.
"I'm glad you liked it," Louis says gently. His voice is so soft and precious, and Harry wants to treasure every syllable uttered by him.
Harry tries to smile wider. He wants to cry though. He's hopelessly in love and alone in it. Louis might care for him, but he'd never love him back.
He can't do anything about his feelings, can't run from them, can't ignore them anymore. When he first realised he might have romantic feelings for Louis, Harry was scared and anxious. Worried of what he would do now.
But at this moment, Harry is just sad. He's given up to his feelings and to loneliness. It's just him now. Of course, Louis will be with him. But not the way Harry wants him to.
Harry keeps smiling. What else can he do now?
~
For some reason, Louis and Harry don't meet each other again.
Harry's not avoiding Louis. He isn't, okay? He's just been…busy. With cleaning. Because he was away, his flat caught some dust. He's gotta clean it all up now. He also has to plan lessons for when the school starts again in January. So, yes, he's been a busy bee.
And, well, Louis isn't calling him either. They exchanged a bunch of random texts here and there, some 'hi's and 'how are you's and silly cat gifs. Other than that, there's been zero communication.
Harry doesn't know how to feel about that. He doesn't want to think about it either.
He gets a call from Niall a few days after he returns to London. They talk for some time about everything and nothing, asking each other about their respective holidays. It's then Niall tells him about his New Year's party.
"But you just threw one for Christmas!" Harry exclaims.
"Your point?" Niall basically deadpans on the other side.
Harry laughs and promises to be there. Once he's hung up, he realises that Louis will be there too.
He doesn't know why the prospect of seeing him suddenly makes Harry so nervous. They just saw each other not even a week ago. It's not that big of a deal. It's barely a deal. It shouldn't be.
He loves Louis Tomlinson and now he has to face him with all those feelings along with the knowledge that they won't be returned.
Harry sighs, buries his face in Mila's fur and groans.
"Help me," he pleads. Mila licks her paw and leaps off from under him. She trots away gracefully, leaving Harry glaring after her.
"Meanie," he mutters, then groans again.
Harry deals with this new not-issue issue like he deals with every other issue, he doesn't think about it until it's looking at him in his face.
It's 6 p.m on 31st December. The party is at 10 p.m. He has four hours. Four hours until he will see Louis after days of no contact.
Harry is currently standing in the mess that is his bedroom, deciding what he should wear tonight.
So, here's the thing. Harry's come to a solution for his problem –the problem being his unrequited feelings for his best friend. He's gonna find someone to kiss at midnight.
Niall has got a massive network, the man is friends with literally everyone. He'd already told Harry that the party is going to be huge, bigger than the Christmas one. All of his friends, even ones that don't teach at their school, that live in London are going to come. There has to be at least someone available. He will find a New Year's kiss and maybe he'll let it progress and ultimately he'll distract himself from all those stupid feelings he has for his best friend.
Maybe getting laid is what Harry needs.
And if this someone turns out to be nicer, he might even let things escalate past a one night stand.
It's a foolproof plan. All Harry needs to do is look pretty and bag someone. Nothing new, he's done this before.
It makes him sound fucking desperate. But that's exactly what he is.
This is what unrequited love does to you.
Harry sighs and sorts through his range of clothes. Not too flashy, not too dull, but something that will catch the eye of everyone in the room.
In the end, when he can't pick anything good, he decides on wearing his go-to black sheer shirt and the skinniest jeans known to humanity. They'd be a huge pain to get out of, but these are the only pants in his closet that make his thighs look meaty. A necessity.
It takes half an hour for him to get ready. Five seconds to wear the shirt, twenty minutes to get in those jeans and ten minutes to make his hair look effortlessly good.
Half an hour later, he is catching the taxi to the club that Niall is throwing his party at. The Irish lad is rich enough to book a whole club for a night. So, Harry needs to spend more than usual for this party too. One night doesn't matter much anyway, not if he's getting sex out of it.
It's been a while since he got laid, don't blame him for being so desperate.
By 11 pm, Harry's at the club. It's massive and pretty posh in appearance, with its stylish interior and exterior.
It's also a long way from his house, even further away from school, which resulted in a very expensive fare for the cab, but that's okay. As he'd decided, he isn't going to worry about any of those adult things tonight.
He's going to have fun. He's going to forget about everything, he's going to forget about Louis and he's just going to have fun.
Or course that's the moment Louis decides to walk in.
Their eyes find each other immediately. Harry can't move them even an inch in some other direction.
Because Louis looks hot.
He's wearing this burgundy tee, with a neck deep enough to show his collarbones and the large tattoo on his upper chest. Almost all his tattoos are on display. His black jeans are also quite tight, showing off his curvy legs. As a cherry on top, Louis' left his hair in a messy fringe, the rest of it poking out in random directions.
Louis looks so fucking fit and this is so fucking unfair. Harry wants to curl in a ball and sob.
Harry smiles at Louis and waves.
Louis doesn't wave back immediately.
It's then Harry notices that, just like him, Louis is also checking Harry out. His sharp blue eyes run all over Harry's body.
For some stupid reason, Harry suddenly feels very shy. He bites his lips and watches as Louis' eyes trail from his legs to his chest to his face until they lock eyes again.
He notices Harry's hand raised for a wave, and waves back with wide eyes.
He begins approaching Harry, and with every step he takes closer Harry's heart rate rises a pace higher.
His heart is full-on thudding by the time they're in front of each other. Let's not even talk about what condition his cock is in right now.
"Hi," Louis says, a little loudly to be heard over the booming music.
"Hi," Harry breathes out, it's all he can do after being left so speechless. He isn't even trying to be cheesy here.
"You look good!" Louis says. "A-amazing, actually. Wow."
Harry feels his cheeks heat up. "Th-thanks," he stutters out. "Y-you too. Look amazing, I mean. Better than amazing. You look dashing."
It's Louis' turn to blush this time. "Yeah, sure."
"No, seriously! You look very nice."
Louis rolls his eyes. "I just put together a random outfit, I didn't even put any thought into it."
"And you're smashing it," Harry tells him as genuinely as he can manage.
Louis' blush grows redder. "Thank you," he mutters, looking away. Harry grins, finding it incredibly endearing.
"Let's get a drink," Louis suggests, not so discreetly changing the topic. Harry rolls along with it without a word.
"Sure!"
They find a very drunk Niall and a very sober-looking-but-definitely-extremely-tipsy Zayn at the counter.
"Hello, pretty boys!" Niall shouts and throws himself at Harry and Louis. They both struggle to catch him, each amused at the Irish man's antics.
"Hey, Neil," Louis greets. "I see you're enjoying yourself."
"It's the end of the yearrr," Niall yells in their ears, making them flinch. "Of course, 'm enjoyin' meself."
"How much have you had to drink? The party just started!" Harry asks, laughing.
Niall pouts in thought, then shrugs. "Dunno. A lots." He spreads his hands out to show the amount. Louis and Harry laugh out loudly.
"You're fucking smashed," Louis comments, Niall nods earnestly in response.
"Zayn's had more than me, though," Niall tells them, then his face falls. "He's sad drunk so he won't say anything."
Harry and Louis look at each other worriedly, they pat Niall on the back and make their way to Zayn.
The man in question is sitting on the stool in front of the counter, one hand holding a beer while the other rests on the counter, supporting his drooping head. He has a dark expression on his face, one that doesn't match the mood of the party at all.
"What's the matter, Zaynie poo?" Louis asks softly, placing a hand on the man's shoulder.
"Told you not to fucking call me that," Zayn mutters, but Harry notices his face grow a little light, lip twitching just slightly. He smiles. Louis always knows how to make people better.
"Why are you crying on New Year's Eve?! This is a place and time to be happy!"
"I don't want to be happy," Zayn says.
"Why?" Harry asks, frowning at Louis.
Zayn sighs. "Liam's brought a girl with him," is all he says.
It's enough. Both Louis and Harry's faces fa in realisation. They sit on each side of the raven haired man, knowing this will take long. Harry discards all his plans for tonight, because friends always come first. And it's not like his plans weren't trashed the moment he saw Louis, but Harry is not going to think about it.
He places a hand on Zayn's knee.
"Is she his girlfriend?" He asks, carefully.
"I dunno," Zayn mutters, and takes a sip of his beer. "She's hot though, and white. And blonde too. The perfect Barbie girl for him," he adds, twisting his face in disgust.
"Zayn, mate, how are you sure she's who you think she is?" Louis asks.
"From the way she's clinging to him, anyone would think so."
Harry and Louis sigh and look at each other hopelessly. Harry feels so bad for his friend. He knows how much Zayn likes Liam. And then to see someone you like so much with someone else, it's the most heartbreaking thing ever.
Harry caresses Zayn's knee with his thumb. "I get it, Zayn. You like Liam so much, and now he's with someone else. It hurts too fucking much, I know."
"Love," Zayn says.
"Huh?"
"I don't like Liam. I love him. I'm in love with him," Zayn says as he finally looks up at them with wide, teary eyes. Harry's heart just breaks for the man.
"Oh, Zayn," Harry says and moves to hug him. He comes easily, resting his head on Harry's shoulder.
"I love him so much and he doesn't love me back," Zayn slurs. Harry knows he's crying now since he can feel his shoulder getting wet. He rubs the man's back soothingly.
"I'm sorry," he says. What else can he say? He can't say that he understands, even though he truly does. This isn't about him. This is about Zayn and his feelings. Harry needs to console his friend.
"I think you should tell him," Louis speaks up from behind them. Harry and Zayn break the hug to look at him. He looks determined.
"Louis, he can't just do that," Harry tells him.
Louis glares at him. "Yes he can." He looks at Zayn. "The fuck you being such a crybaby for? Go and tell him how you feel. Get your answers right from him without making any assumptions."
Zayn scoffs. "It's not so fucking easy," he snaps.
"I know it isn't," Louis says, looking almost angry. Harry doesn't understand what's got him so riled up. "But since when are you afraid of hard things, Zayn, huh? The Zayn I know speaks his mind fearlessly. You're just being a pussy right now."
Harry gasps. "Louis!" He chastises.
"What?! Am I lying?" He asks Zayn. The man doesn't answer. He looks so troubled that it hurts Harry's heart. Even Louis softens at his expression. "Look, Zayn. You've had these feelings for too long. Now if you just keep them bottled in just because he's got some random lass with him, it's gonna hurt none other but you. Don't just put words in Liam's mouth, don't decide for yourself that he doesn't like you. You need to talk to him. You need to tell him how you feel. In the end, it'll be good for the both of you if it's out. Trust me."
There's something very serious about Louis' face that Harry doesn't usually see. It's almost like he's very sure about something.
Zayn sighs. "And what if he tells me he doesn't like me? It's painful enough to think of it. I can't bear hearing those words from his mouth."
"Then you'll know for sure and you can properly move on," Louis says, with a soft but firm voice. "It'll hurt, I know, I'm not saying it won't. But that'll be it. Only for a short time. Once you have a final answer, you can move on. If you just assume it yourself, you'll keep thinking about it, about him . That'll hurt more in the long run." Louis grabs Zayn's free hand and holds it between both his palms. "Tell him. It'll end well for both of you, trust me."
He looks right into Zayn's eyes, his own eyes fiery and certain. Harry thinks he knows something, but doesn't say anything. He can't help but think over Louis' words.
He also assumed that Louis doesn't like him back. He came to conclusions by himself without ever talking to Louis about it. Maybe it would hurt less if he just told Louis and ended it.
A thought crosses his mind then. Should he also confess to Louis?
The thought sends chills down Harry's spine. He can't fucking tell Louis. The situation with Zayn is a lot different than his own. Zayn and Liam aren't as close as Louis and Harry are. As far as Harry knows, Zayn fell for Liam the moment he saw him. He's always had a crush. They were just friendly colleagues, not spending all their time together. Very much unlike Harry and Louis who have spent almost every day of the past two months with each other. They're stuck to the hip, the two of them. And if Harry were to tell Louis how he felt and Louis didn't return it, he'd end up making things too awkward.
He'd ruin their beautiful friendship that they've developed so far.
Harry can't risk that. He can be lonely with his feelings but at least he'd have Louis as a friend. If he lost Louis because of some stupid feelings, he'd forever blame himself.
Harry sighs, coming to a decision. It was pretty much decided already, but now he's sure of it. He'd crush those feelings in his heart before he ruins anything.
He's snapped out of his thoughts by Zayn's voice.
"Fine," the raven haired man says. He has his eyes shut tight and his fingers criss-crossed. "I'll tell him."
Louis beams and looks at Harry, his face lit with pride and content. "Awesome! Go on, then."
Zayn snaps his eyes open and looks at Louis in surprise. "Now?!"
"Yes?"
"Are you stupid? Didn't I tell you he's with a girl?!"
Louis grins. "Better now than later, Zaynie."
"That's not how the saying goes."
"Shut up. Go tell him now." Louis turns around and searches, then his face lights up. "Look he's right over there! C'mon, leave." Harry turns to looks and as Louis said, there Liam is. He's wearing a crispy shirt and jeans, looking quite handsome. He then spots the blonde Zayn was speaking about, dressed in a mini skirt and a sparkly top and clinging to Liam like her life depends on him. She is quite good looking. Harry can understand why Zayn worried so much about her. "Go on!" Louis is still urging Zayn when Harry turns back.
"I- '' Zayn fish-mouths. It's very funny, but Harry tries not to laugh like the good friend he is. "Why can't I do it later?"
"Why can't you do it now?" Louis counters. He then sighs, stands up and pulls Zayn uo from the stool. Zayn, not expecting it, goes along easily. The movement makes him stumble into Louis, their faces knocking into each other. Harry giggles, and for some reason, he turns to Liam's side again. His eyes widen when he realises Liam is looking at them now. And boy, does he not look happy.
Wait.
"What the fuck, man?!" Zayn yells at Louis. "I almost fell on my face there."
"No you didn't, you fell on my face!" Louis retorts. "How fucking drunk are you?!"
"Psst, guys!" Harry calls as quietly as he can with the music that Liam won't hear. Louis and Zayn look at him. He subtly points in Liam's direction. Zayn turns to look at his eyes grow wide. Harry looks at Louis, eyebrows raised. Louis grins, and Harry nearly lets out a surprised laugh.
What the actual fuck?!
"He's coming here," Zayn says and the next moment, Liam is standing in front of them.
"Uh, Zayn?" He starts. Zayn just stands there frozen as a stick. "Can I.." He looks between Louis and Harry. Harry does not miss the way his face hardens when he looks at Louis. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" He asks, a lot more confidently.
"S-sure," Zayn says. He stiffly begins to follow when Liam leaves. He gives one last desperate look to Louis before they get lost in the crowd.
Harry turns to Louis and they immediately start laughing.
" Holy shit !" Harry laughs out, throwing his head back.
"Did you see Liam's face?!" Louis asks, his face is red with laughter.
"I did! What the fuck?! Did you plan that?!"
"No!" Louis exclaims. "It was an accident, I swear! But it really worked out for the best."
Their laughter begins to slow down. Harry wipes a tear off his cheek. "He likes Zayn, doesn't he?" Harry asks once they've both calmed down. Louis only smiles. Harry shakes his head in disbelief. "All that crying and for what?"
"I know right?"
"How did you know?"
Louis' lips turn into a line then. "The amount of times I've been asked if Zayn is free or what he's doing it his likes and dislikes, I'm just about ready to give up my job and become his secretary."
Harry snorts. "He asked you that?"
"Yes! Even about the concert, he asked me first what kind of music Zayn likes. At that time, I was confused. When he asked Zayn about the concert, I just knew."
"You've known since then?!" Louis shrugs, smirking. Harry slaps his shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me?!"
"It's their business. Liam never told me straight up, you know? And I don't know if he wants people to know. He's not open about his sexuality. So I just didn't want to risk it."
Harry nods, realisation settling in. Of course, he didn't even think about that. "You're so considerate."
Louis shrugs again. "Anyone would be, in this case."
Harry shakes his head, lips curved in a soft smile. "Trust me. Anyone wouldn't." He first bumps Louis' knee without understanding himself why he did that. "You're very nice, Louis. I'm glad you're my friend."
Something flashes in Louis' eyes but it goes away quickly. Harry's left wondering if he imagined that.
Louis just smirks and picks up the almost full glass at the table that was left by Zayn. "Wanna drink to those two?"
Harry nods eagerly. "Let's drink something stronger though. It'll be New Year's soon. I want to be drunk enough to not be sad that I don't have anyone to kiss tonight."
Louis laughs. "That's okay, I don't either."
Harry grins. "Let's be lonely drinking buddies for tonight then."
Louis raises the glass of beer. "Let's."
They both get vodka. Harry doesn't drink so often, but tonight was planned to be different. If he's not getting laid then he at least wants to be drunk enough to pass out before he starts crying about his loneliness.
Harry's not a sad drunk. But it's a bittersweet night. And he wants it to end now.
They do get drunk. Piss drunk, actually. By the end of their drinking session, they're both giggly and clingy and trying not to fall on their faces as they walk. Harry's legs feel wobbly and his brain is numb and his tongue is heavy in his mouth.
It's 11.56 pm. Almost midnight. They have to be outside before 12 am so they can catch the fireworks.
Harry looks around him and even with his blurry vision, he can see every person is with someone. There's a couple wherever he looks. It makes him sad, so he doesn't hide it.
"Wha' 'appened, Hazza?" Louis asks by his side, placing a hand on Harry's cheek. It's warm. "Why so saaad?" He pouts. "Iss midnight bee happieee."
"I'm lonelyyy," he tells Louis, making a sad face at him as he places his own palm on top of Louis'.
"Oh nooo," Louis coos. "Hazza can't be lonely. Why is Hazza lonely?"
"I don't have anyone to kiss at midnight," Harry tells him.
"One minute left!" Someone yells from somewhere.
"I don't either," Louis tells him.
"But I wanna kiss someone at midniiiight," Harry whines, stomping his foot to emphasise his point. He knows he's being way too childish for a 24 year old adult, but he can't help it. He's sad and miserable and he's allowed to be upset however he wants when he's drunk. "I wanna I wanna I wanna!"
"Okay okay," Louis says and then cups Harry's face with both hands. He looks into Harry's eyes with his own glassy ones. They don't look blue as usual, appearing nearly grey. If it's because of the lights or the alcohol, Harry doesn't know. "Kiss me then."
Harry's heart screeches to a halt.
"W-what?"
Louis looks determined. "Kiss me."
"Louis–"
"You want to kiss someone at midnight, right? Kiss me, then."
Harry takes in a sharp breath, sobering up all of a sudden. What the hell is Louis talking about? Is he more drunk than Harry thought? He did drink a bit more than Harry did, finishing Zayn's beer for him too. Maybe it's the alcohol. Yes it's definitely the alcohol talking. Louis wouldn't say that.
"I mean it," Louis says, as if reading Harry's mind. "I don't want you to be sad. If you want a New Year's kiss, I'll give you one."
Harry can feel all the blood in his body rush to his face. This isn't how he imagined the night to go. He'd planned to spend it in someone else's arms, someone possible, available . He doesn't know how much he thought it'd succeed, but that was what he'd had in his mind. Not having his best friend kiss him to make him happy.
He averts his eyes from Louis' in panic, and they immediately land on the couple just a few feet away from them.
It's Liam and Zayn. They're standing close, too close. With Zayn's hands wrapped around Liam's shoulder as the brown haired man holds Zayn by the waist. Their foreheads are touching and they're smiling wide and bright, cheeks flushed and eyes glimmering with love.
They look adorable. They look happy.
And why wouldn't they be? They're with the person they love the most.
The countdown starts.
Ten
Harry stares at Liam and Zayn, as they get closer and closer. He feels two warm and sweaty hands slip into his. He looks back at Louis.
Nine
Louis has an unreadable expression on his face, but he's looking straight at Harry. There's a fire behind his eyes. And something else that Harry can't recognise.
Eight
Should he do this? Ever since realising his feelings and maybe even before that, he's imagined kissing Louis. Loads of times. And it's finally happening tonight.
Seven
It's not how he wants it. But then, isn't it? Louis just wants to make Harry happy. And kissing Louis would make Harry happy. He knows it would.
Six
This is all stupid. He shouldn't do this. A huge part of him is screaming at him to not do this. That this is a mistake and he should step back and run away.
Five
But there's this other small part. A tiny, very tiny part that opposes the bigger one. It's eager and curious. It makes Harry want to just lean in and just do it.
Four
What's the worst that can happen? Louis himself asked Harry to kiss him. Louis' drunk but so is he. They're both drunk. If this is a mistake then I'll go away with the alcohol. He doesn't know. He can't think, not when the prospect of getting to kiss Louis is possible right now.
Three
He looks at Louis' lips. They look pink, as if bitten into, and a little rough. Harry gets the strange urge to run his tongue against them.
Two
His mind is running too fast for him to keep up. Too many thoughts, too many assumptions, too many things for him to consider. He just wants it all to pause. For one second, he doesn't want to think about anything.
He looks into Louis' eyes.
"Fuck it."
One
Harry smashes his lips against Louis, who immediately responds. Everyone is screaming and cheering around them, the sound of fireworks echoes, their lights flashing around the two. Harry and Louis are too invested in themselves though, they're just standing in the middle of the crowd, unfolding their own chaos.
Harry's kissing Louis.
Harry is kissing Louis.
How in the world did this fucking happen?!
They break apart and gasp for air. Harry blinks rapidly to clear his head of all the blood that has rushed into it. It's reeling from the feel of Louis' lips against his. He can't believe any of this is happening. It all feels like a fucking fever dream.
"Fuck," Louis breathes out as he looks at Harry with wide eyes. " Fuck. "
"Yeah," Harry says, breathily as well. They're both grasping each other's arms, Harry feels Louis' nails digging into his skin.
"Wanna..?" Louis starts but doesn't end, instead gesturing inside with his head.
Harry breathes. In and out. He doesn't think. He doesn't wonder. Not even a second's doubt before he's nodding. "Yeah. Yes." He grabs at Louis' upper arm tightly. "Yeah."
Louis licks his lips before he lets go of Harry's arms and holds one of his hands. He pulls Harry, who goes along bonelessly like a ragdoll, letting Louis take control of him. He's still weak in the knees from that moment long kiss. He still can't believe this is fucking happening.
They're barely inside before Louis presses Harry harshly against the wall and smashes their lips together.
This time the kiss is a lot more sloppier and dirtier than before. Louis has both his hands placed on Harry's hips, thumbs tracing the chubby area. Harry holds Louis' face in both hands, gently yet firmly. He's afraid that if he lets go, Louis will go away. And he doesn't want Louis to go away, he just wants to keep kissing him, for as long as he can.
"Oh, Harry," Louis gasps in his mouth. Harry closes the gap and kisses him again, not giving either of them any room to breathe.
Harry's hands wrap around Louis' neck, pulling him closer and closer until every inch of their bodies are touching. Harry can feel Louis' cock digging into him. It makes his already half hard dick harden even more.
Louis bites at his lip, eliciting a soft moan from Harry. He doesn't care, he can't think about anything enough to care about it.
He's kissing Louis and he's way too engrossed in it. How can he think about anything else, when Louis' body is pressed against his and their lips and tongues are entangled with each other?
All Harry can feel right now is euphoria. He's brimming with it, with the joy of kissing someone. He can taste Louis in every corner of his mouth and it's the best thing he's ever tasted, better than the best thing.
This is all he's ever wanted, and he realises that now. He realises how much he's longed for this. Ever since that night after the Christmas fair. Maybe even before that. Maybe since the day he spent baking at Louis' house.
He's always longed to kiss Louis, to feel him in his mouth. And now he can. Now he has Louis all to himself. Now, Louis is in his arms, his tongue down Harry's throat and Harry can't think of asking for anything better.
He loves Louis. He has him now.
Louis' hands trail all over Harry's back, before one of them finally reaches Harry's head. A finger ties itself in one of the small curls at Harry's nape and then he tugs at it.
Harry moans, a little too loudly, as his hips buck up. He ends up grinding into Louis' semi hard cock, his own nearly ready to burst right about now.
It's then they hear it.
"Harry?"
It happens in a flash, before Harry realises it. One minute he's grinding into Louis', the next he's thrusted into the wall and there's five feet worth of distance between the two.
Harry's eyes snap open to find Louis looking back at him with his eyes ready to fall out of the sockets, as he keeps taking small steps away from Harry. Louis looks like a deer caught in the headlights.
There's fear on his face. Fear and something that looks akin to..regret.
Harry's heart just about shatters into a million pieces.
"Har-" Louis starts, but Harry doesn't fucking want to hear it. He turns and begins walking away. Tears start falling out of his eyes before he's even outside.
Louis doesn't call after him. And it's not like he'd respond even if he did. He just wants to get away. He can't handle the rejection in Louis' face. He can't do it.
A sob breaks out of his face when he steps outside. The first couple he sees is Zayn and Liam, lost in their own world as they kiss each other sweetly. Harry quickly turns away from them and starts walking towards the road.
He bumps into Niall, the Irish man looks at him worriedly.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Harry turns from him too and nearly starts running. "Harry!"
He doesn't respond, he doesn't turn, he doesn't look. He just wants to get away. He wants to go home and cry about how he ruined his own life.
As if he wasn't miserable enough already. Now he's gone and done it.
He catches the first taxi that comes across him. The driver must be pitying him with the way he keeps giving him sad looks from time to time.
Harry holds it in the taxi, holds it in until he's reached his building and is safely inside his flat. With the door locked behind him, Harry leans heavily against it and allows the painful sobs to break out. He slowly falls to the floor, curling into himself and sobbing like a child.
He's ruined it. He's finally ruined it.
Louis regrets kissing him. Now things will get weird between the two. They won't be able to talk and act like before. Their friendship is gone in shambles now.
All because Harry was too selfish.
Too selfish to keep his feelings to him. He got greedy. He saw a chance to kiss Louis and he took it, not even thinking of the consequences. He can blame it on the alcohol but that's hardly going to make anything better.
Things have gone to shit now and it's all Harry's fucking fault.
At least before, he had Louis as a friend. Now he's gone and ruined that as well.
Now, he's completely alone.
With a broken heart and no friend to heal it, Harry literally detonated the bomb that destroyed his own life.
His sobs grow louder to the point where the next step is only screaming.
He doesn't want the neighbours to worry so he slowly picks himself up and nearly crawls into the bedroom.
Mila is asleep in the centre of his bed, looking like a dark ball of fluff on top of his light sheets. He falls heavily beside her, making the bed bounce and causing her to wake up.
She looks annoyed at first but then immediately turns worried when Harry buries his face in her fur and starts sobbing louder and louder.
Harry knows she's worried with the way she begins licking the exposed part of his face. It makes Harry cry even harder.
It's all ruined. It's all gone to shit.
Nothing will be fine now.
Harry caused his own heartbreak and now he's left alone to handle the pieces.
He's lost his love and his friend.
Things can't get any worse.
What an amazing fucking start of the new year.
~
The worst thing about winter is the cold.
Harry wants to bury himself under all the blankets in the world and never come out.
It can become his grave. He'd die warm.
He spent the entire night crying until he fell asleep at some point in the near morning, only to be awoken by Mila's incessant meowing.
He can't blame her, the poor cat was hungry and he'd forgotten to remind the neighbour to feed her the night before.
So he got up, gave his pet cat her pet food, and landed heavily on his couch.
He wanted to go back to sleep. But his brain had been pulled far enough into consciousness to allow all the bothersome thoughts to reform. He checks his phone, only to find numerous missed calls from Niall. He doesn't want to talk to anyone, so he puts his phone on silent, plugs it in for charging and leaves it in his bedroom.
The previous night's event replayed in his mind, and it made him want to cry all over again.
Fuck, he's fucking ruined it, hasn't he?
He ruined the one best thing in his life. How can he face Louis after yesterday?
Louis broke his heart. But it's not like Harry didn't know that would happen. He was expecting rejection, still it hurt like a knife put right through his heart.
Harry can't bring himself to look at Louis again, not without all the hurt and humiliation that he'd definitely feel when he sees those blue eyes again. Because the last time he looked at them, all he saw was regret.
Louis regretted kissing him. Louis didn't want to kiss him.
Was it really that horrible of an idea?
A tear does escape his eye, no matter how much he wills it not to.
Louis would never want Harry that way. And now that he knows Harry likes him, he can't even pretend that the feelings aren't real.
Before last night, every time he thought of Louis, all he felt was fondness. Now, it's nothing but hurt.
Harry's going to stay lonely forever. Now that he's lost his love and his best friend.
Why does the universe hate him so much? What has he done to have such a horrible fucking fate?!
Harry does not want to go there, knowing it will only unveil a severe existential crisis and that's the last thing Harry wants right now.
He decides to spend his whole day inside, doing nothing but watching trash TV and eating every bit of the unhealthy stuff (read: comfort food) he's stashed up in his kitchen. That's how he'd make himself feel better.
And it's not like he can go out even if he wants to. Weather reports predicted snowfall for most of the day today. He is just going to enjoy the view as he sits in the warmth of his house, munching on crisps and sipping nice hot chocolate.
He does end up doing that all the way until the evening. The snowfall starts sometime after 12 in the noon, and within an hour or two, everything outside is white. Harry can't remember the last time he saw so much snow here.
It's a pretty view though. And Harry can't help but pause his reruns of Friends (his comfort show that no one teases him about) and sit beside his window, curling up in his blanket and resting his head against the glass as he takes a look at the way the snow blankets most of the city.
He wishes to go outside, play with the snow like a child, maybe even build a snowman as if he isn't a fully grown adult. Maybe he'd just settle for a walk in the nearest park, which he's sure looks beautiful after turning all white.
He doesn't want to catch a cold however, knowing he has to be back to school soon.
He hasn't thought of the prospect of seeing Louis. He doesn't want to think about it. Maybe he'd just avoid the man. He doesn't know and he doesn't want to think about it. He just wants to watch the snow for now, and soothe himself.
That's when he hears the buzzer go off.
Harry frowns. He wasn't expecting anyone today. Did Niall show up because he was worried Harry didn't pick his calls? But why would he come all the way here with all the snow outside?
He gets up and goes to check.
"Who's there?" He asks, voice coming a little scratchy from not being used at all today.
"Harry," comes a relieved sounding, breathy reply in an all too familiar voice. Harry freezes.
He tries to focus on his breathing, but it seems like it's stuck somewhere in his lungs and wouldn't come out or go in.
It's Louis. Louis is at his place.
Louis is standing outside his building.
Why the fuck is Louis here?!
"Harry?" Louis speaks again, more unsure than before. "Are you there?"
Harry doesn't reply. He doesn't say a word. He can't, is the thing. He's too surprised to speak right now. His heart is ready to explode into itself inside his chest.
Louis is here. After they kissed.
"I.." Louis continues, when Harry doesn't speak. "I just want to talk. Can we talk? Please?" He adds, so, so softly in the end. As if he's afraid Harry would turn him away.
And to be honest, Harry is kind of considering doing that. He can't face Louis. Not so soon after what happened.
He still doesn't say anything, and hears a defeated sigh on the other side.
"Look, I get that you're upset. You have every right to be. I just, I was a dick last night. I shouldn't have- shouldn't've done that. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, goddamnit."
If possible, Harry's heart falls even more. So Louis does regret kissing Harry. He was foolishly going to pretend he'd imagined the whole thing, blame it on the alcohol.
But now Louis is here, apologising for kissing him, sounding so fucking regretful.
Can Harry get that blanket grave like right now please? You know what, even a snow grave does the job. He just wants it all to fucking end right about now, thank you.
"Please, Harry," Louis pleads on the other side. "Please, let me just- I just want to talk to you. Just for a few minutes, I won't take long. It's also fucking cold outside, I'm drenched. Just for a few minutes? I won't stay longer than ten, I promise. Please. Please, Haz. "
Harry's heart has always been extremely easy to melt. And of course, even after all the heartbreak and rejection and hurt and everything, he still cares for Louis. He still loves the man. The man he considers his bestest friend, no matter what happens.
The ring he'd given Louis flashes in his mind. It was a promise of 'forever', and he was the one who made it.
Harry sighs, and wordlessly buzzes Louis in.
He takes slow, deep breaths as he waits for Louis to arrive. It doesn't calm the erratic beating of his heart even a little.
He nearly jumps out of his skin when the doorbell rings. Mila looks at him in contemplation before she trots away in the bedroom. Harry sighs once again before hesitantly opening the door.
There he is. Soaking wet from head to toe. His usually fuzzy hair now sticks to his forehead, blue eyes dull. Even his clothes stick to his body.
He gives Harry an uncertain smile the moment the door opens.
"Hey," he says, softly.
"Why are you wet?" Harry blurts.
Louis' eyes widen a little, then he blinks. "Um, had to walk in the snow. Taxis weren't available."
"Of course, they fucking weren't. There's knee deep snow everywhere," Harry snaps. He has no idea why he's being mean, but for some reason, the moment he saw Louis' face, anger bubbled inside him like lava. He can't keep it in, no matter how much he tries. And, frankly, he's not trying at all.
Louis flinches. It makes Harry feel bad and good at the same time.
"I- I'm sorry?"
"What for?"
Louis opens his mouth but no words come out. He stands there gaping like a fish while Harry stares him down. Harry wonders if he does look intimidating at all with his lazy, ruffled appearance.
They stare at each other before Harry sighs for the umpteenth time and steps aside.
"Get inside, it's fucking freezing."
Louis takes small, unsure steps inside, looking at Harry from under his eyelashes.
"Thanks," he says. Harry doesn't reply. Instead, he turns around and goes into his room after closing the door. He leans against the door once he's outside Louis' eyesight.
"Fuck," he breaths out. He spots Mila sitting on his bed, giving him a judgemental look. "Don't look at me like that, I'm the one heartbroken here!"
She just pokes her tongue and then tucks her face in her paws, closing her eyes shut. Harry mocks her even though she can't see him, then lets out another heavy breath.
He needs to calm the fuck down.
He sees a towel laying discarded on the floor, the result of his uncharacteristic laziness today. He picks it up, takes in a sharp, steadying breath and walks back out, face turning firm again.
"Here." He holds the towel out to Louis. "Dry yourself."
"Thanks," Louis says, looking surprised as he takes it from Harry.
Harry shrugs in dismissal. "Don't want my carpet to get wet."
He sees how Louis' face falls at that. "Oh, uh, yeah, of course."
He's being an absolute fucking dick. He needs to get a hold of himself. This is not him.
He sighs, mentally slaps himself a bunch of times and then says, "Can't have you getting sick either."
It's like someone burning a candle in a pitch black room, the way that Louis' face lights up, even though a little bit. Even with all the anger, it still makes Harry feel nice.
"So," he starts, deciding to come straight to the point. Why drag it out if it's going to hurt more anyway? "What did you want to talk about?"
Harry crosses his arms as he waits for Louis to reply. The man visibly deflated, shoulders dropping and face turning into a frown.
This is it. This is where Harry gets to hear from Louis' mouth directly how unwanted he is. Hear those words of rejection. That they can't be friends anymore because last night ruined it. He ruined it.
It's then Harry realises he's more angry at himself than anyone else.
"I'm sorry," Louis says.
"You already said that," Harry says with gritted teeth, frustration growing inside him.
"I know. I just– I feel so bad about last night-"
Harry can't take this anymore. He's already hurting enough as it is, and to hear the regret in Louis' voice again and again is just twisting the knife further in. So he can't help when his voice just rises, face turning red as he snaps at Louis. "Can we stop with the pitying already?!"
Louis steps back, surprised. "Wha-"
"I get it. Okay? I know. You regret what we did last night. It was stupid. It was reckless. Now things will be awkward and weird and uncomfortable and you'd hate it. I know. I'd hate it too. I knew this would happen, yet I did it. It's all my fucking fault. I know. Alright? But I couldn't help it! I couldn't- I can't help that I'm so fucking in love with you that I didn't even think of the consequences when I had the chance to kiss you!" Harry screams. He has started to cry again, and it can't get any more pathetic than this but he just doesn't care at this point. Louis' face is the picture of shock as he looks at Harry, eyes wide and mouth agape. It makes Harry cry even more. "I had the chance, I took it. I'm sorry, alright? I'm sorry I fucking ruined it. I know. I hate myself enough for doing that. You don't need to rub salt over the wound by telling me you don't want me, okay? I know you don't love me. I know that. So you can just go now. I won't show you my face ever again. Just leave, I don't want to hear it. Just go. Just –" He weakly pushes at Louis, as he starts sobbing uncontrollably. He shuts his eyes close tight, hugging himself as he cries.
It's over. It's fucking over. It's–
"Haz," he hears Louis say, softly, gently, lovingly. He feels arms wrap around him as he's pulled into a hug. Harry makes a confused noise amidst his crying as his face is tucked involuntarily into the soft and damp fabric of Louis' jumper. Still it somehow feels so warm. "It's okay," Louis whispers in his ears, the same way he did that night they cuddled in Louis' bed. The warm breath makes Harry shiver. "You can slow down now, baby. It's fine. You're fine."
Baby
Harry hiccups as he buries his face further into Louis' jumper, wrapping his own arms around Louis' thin waist. He feels Louis' hand run along his back, soothingly. He's so confused, so so clueless about what is happening, but this feels too nice to let go.
"Don't do this," Harry chokes out. "Don't put me together if you're only going to break me later."
Louis' arms tighten around him at that. "I'm not gonna break you. I can never forgive myself if I do that."
"You've already done that."
"I know. That's why I'm so fucking sorry. It's not what you think. If you just hear me out-"
"I don't want to hear anything!" Harry yells, as he pushes himself away from Louis' arms. He regrets doing that, because it suddenly gets so cold. "I don't want to hear it. I know you don't love me, I know you don't want me. I know it, and it hurts enough as it is. Don't make it worse, please don't-"
He's unable to say anything further because before he realises, there's lips being pressed against his. Harry lets out a surprised noise, but Louis doesn't react. He only holds both of Harry's biceps and keeps kissing him, gently and lovingly. There's no tongue, it's just lips against lips, so soft and sweet. It makes Harry's knees go weak.
A lone tear escapes his eye as he finally calms down. He kisses Louis back, holding his stubbly chins in his hands, and pressing his lips harder, relishing in the contact. He's wanted this, he's wanted this since forever. The longing worsened after last night. Ever since the moment Harry and Louis broke apart, all Harry's wanted more than anything was to kiss Louis again.
Louis lets go, leaning back and Harry gasps for breath. He looks at Louis with confusion and surprise, only to find the man smiling softly.
"You're so stubborn," Louis speaks up. "And so silly and so– so many things." His smile goes impossibly fond. "Maybe that's why I love you so much."
Harry's heart stops beating. It literally stops. It's like he's almost had a cardiac arrest. Because he can not believe he heard Louis say that.
"W-what-"
"I love you," Louis repeats, placing a hand against Harry's teary cheek. "A lot."
Harry lets out a sob and then, without thinking, kisses Louis again. This kiss is different. It's a lot more desperate than before. Harry can't help it. He's just heard the three words he'd wanted to hear since who knows how long. It's like being removed off of a ventilator to be able to breathe on your own.
It's beautiful.
"Say it again," Harry gasps out when they part for breath.
"I love you," Louis complies. "I love you I love you I love you."
Harry kisses him again. Harder and dirtier than before, having no qualms because Louis loves him.
Louis loves Harry.
He doesn't even realise he's pulled Louis into the bedroom until they're falling on his bed, him on his back and Louis on top of him. They ignore Mila's little meow of complaint as Louis starts nibbling at his lips, sucking at them and making Harry moan.
Things escalate quickly after that as Louis starts going down on Harry. He trails kisses along Harry's jaw and neck, wet and sloppy and eliciting loud gasps and moans from Harry.
"Mine," Louis says as he bites Harry's collar bone, marking him. "My love."
Harry can't help the tears that escape his eyes. Louis must get confused because he stops whatever he was doing and looks up at Harry, frowning.
"What's wrong, baby?" He cups Harry's chin, stroking it gently. "Are you not comfortable? We won't do anything you don't want to."
Harry's heart swells at that. He shakes his head. "It's not that."
"What is it then? You can tell me."
"I'm just," he hiccups. "I can't believe this is real. Is this real, Lou? I'm not dreaming?"
Louis smiles at that, and pushes himself up so he's lying beside Harry. Harry lets himself be pulled into Louis' arms and rests his head in the crook between Louis' chest and armpit.
"It's not a dream, baby. This is all very real. I really do love you. More than I ever thought I could love anyone. I'm not lying to you, I promise."
"But then, yesterday when we were kissing you- you just–"
Louis sighs, smile dropping a little. "Yeah. I know. I hate that I did that to you. It was all a complete misunderstanding and it's all my fault."
Harry holds his breath. "Kissing me?"
"What? No! I don't– Harry I will never regret last night, okay? Not the kissing, not even a moment of it. I do regret everything after though."
Harry frowns. "What do you mean?"
"I… I've liked you for a long time. I only realised it recently. But I wasn't sure if you liked me back. But then last night, when you kissed me, I knew. I knew that you liked me as much as I liked you. Still, a small part of me wasn't sure, you know? I somehow convinced myself it was the alcohol. And then Niall called your name and we separated out and you looked scared, so I got worried that maybe you didn't like this and that I'd ruined it now. I wanted to talk but you just left, you looked so hurt and Niall told me you were crying so I honestly thought that you really regretted the kiss. I came here to say sorry for hurting you, for hurting our friendship but then you told me that–"
"I love you," Harry breathes out, smiling slowly. Louis grins and nods. Harry can't help the laugh that comes out. "We're both so stupid."
"Aren't we," Louis says, and places a small kiss on Harry's temple. Harry beams.
"Absolute idiots," Harry says, giddily and kisses Louis gently. He's so happy now. All the sadness and grief from just an hour ago evaporated. Louis loves him, he loves Louis, they love each other. It's mutual. And now he gets to kiss Louis whenever he wants.
"Idiots that are in love," Louis corrects, his face shining brighter than the sun as he holds Harry in his arms. Harry loves him so much. He loves Louis and he gets to keep him.
"I'm so happy," he tells Louis.
"I am too," Louis replies. "The happiest." He leans in and nudges their noses against each other. "Because you're here."
Harry grins, and grabs Louis' free hand without looking. He intertwines their fingers, and feels the cool metal of the promise ring he gave Louis against his warm skin.
"Forever," he mutters, thoughtlessly. Louis blinks, but when Harry squeezes his hand, he realises and smiles.
"Yeah," he says. "Forever."
The promise ring somehow holds a different reason entirely and yet the very same. It's magical, Harry thinks.
"Tell me," Harry says then. "When did you realise?"
Louis smiles, knowing what Harry is asking about. His face turns nostalgic, cheekbones turning a little red. Harry can't help finding it extremely endearing.
"Remember that time when we baked gingerbread cookies in my flat?" Harry nods, he remembers it. That's when he first started feeling it too. "I burnt my hand because I'm clumsy and stupid. It keeps happening. I always get hurt because of my own silliness. But then you were there, all concerned and caring, and you applied the ointment and we're taking care of me and I liked that so much. At first I just thought I missed my mum." He chuckles. "But that just wouldn't explain the tingly feeling. So I talked to Zayn that night. Involuntarily-" he adds when Harry raises his eyebrows. "And found out that I actually just really really liked you."
Harry blushes. He had seen it coming but still hearing it from Louis' mouth did things to his heart he can't explain but really loved.
"I realised I liked you that night on your birthday," Harry tells him. "I found out I loved you at the coffee house."
Louis chuckles. "And still we both couldn't get ourselves to confess."
"Yeah," Harry says, chuckling along. "But then you asked me to kiss you last night. Why did you do that, if you didn't know?"
Louis' smile softens. "Because I told Zayn all about not assuming things, and then I realised I'd been doing the same. I just– you looked absolutely gorgeous last night. I couldn't not kiss you for New Years. Especially when you said you wanted to kiss someone. I couldn't have it be anyone other than me."
"Jealous much?" Harry teases, grinning.
"Very," Louis grins back.
Harry faux pout in contemplation. "I don't really like the possessive types though," he says.
Louis chuckles. "I promise you'll love me."
"Already do," Harry murmurs and kisses Louis for the umpteenth time that day.
It's not like either of them mind.