flower crowns // l.s.

✿6✿

The fact that the bed is comfortable and didn't smell like his scented laundry detergent was definitely one of the things that made Harry confused when he woke up. When he opened his eyes, he eyed the white ceiling, and then looked around the room, spotting gray walls and a room with a single window. A lamp was on, so that made the room light up just a little more. It really was just a mess. Clothes were draped across a recliner shoved in the corner, all over the floor, towels and shoes in heaps on the floor. Harry wanted nothing more than to clean up, put clothes in a hamper, and put the guy's shoes away. But he didn't; he arose slowly, fisting the sheets that matched the walls, and pulled them away. His head hurt and he didn't know whose room this was and he is beyond confused and shirtless. He's shirtless and he doesn't have pants on either. He only has socks and underwear and he feels too awkward and embarrassed to walk out of the room.

"God," he muttered, running a hand through his hair and groaning. He stood there for a good minute before realizing his clothes were at the end of his bed, folded neatly, so he put them on and decided to leave the room to see who he wound up sleeping with.

Once left the room he immediately knew where he was. It opened up into the living room, and of course it's Louis' place. Where else would he be? With his hand on his head and a pouty groan passing through his lips, he spotted Louis behind the kitchen counter shoving a trash bag into the trashcan (Harry nearly fell over because Louis' shirtless), a cigarette between his lips, and empty cans of beer in his hands. Louis hadn't noticed Harry; if he did, he would've definitely tried making fun of him for last night. Harry honestly acted like a child.

"Hey," Harry finally says, voice raspy and deep.

Louis turned his head after putting the cans in the trash, eyebrows furrowed as he pulls the cigarette out of his mouth. Slowly, he eyed Harry—which left him awkwardly playing with his fingers while his cheeks turned a different color—and then tried to match that pure sex voice with the adorable little Harry he's supposed to be. "Hi."

"Um, uh. Where do you keep the aspirin?"

"Ahh," Louis muttered, heading over to the cabinet above the sink. "Do remember what you did last night?"

Harry sat on the bar stool and shook his head, watching Louis stand on his tippy toes to reach the medicine in the back of the cabinet. It was a very good sight to see for Harry. So many tattoos; it's beautiful. And he's tan and slim and his collarbones look so good, so kissable and he wants to run his tongue over the 'It Is What It Is' tattoo and bite his neck and kiss his abdomen. But above all, he wants to hold him tightly. He wants to wrap his arms around his body and make Louis laugh and stare at those blueblue eyes all day and kiss his lips and make him food and tell him his jokes. That's what he wants. "Er," Harry mumbled, shaking a hand through his hair. It was then when he realized that he tried talking Louis into giving him a crazy tattoo. "Oh no; did I talk you into giving me a tattoo?"

Louis laughed, and really, he looked like a bunny; his nose scrunching up and hair so fluffy looking. Harry smiled out of adoration. "No, but you were very, very persistent." Louis flipped a bottle over in his hand before nodding his head and turning to Harry. "Nearly cried—water?" Harry nodded. "—when I told you to put your shirt back on."

Harry face-palmed. "No way. Seriously? I took my shirt off?"

Louis laughed, grabbed a bottled water, and then nodded. "Mhm, sure did, kitten."

Harry widened his eyes and choked on his own saliva, only now remembering what he had said to Louis about the nickname. The nickname made his heart flutter, made him feel important to Louis in some way. "Jesus. What happened to me last night," he muttered to himself, shaking his head.

"I dunno. You acted like you've never been drunk--it was cute." Louis handed Harry the water and medicine.

The curly haired boy raised an eyebrow, ignoring how Louis called him cute, and just shrugged, accepting the stuff with a quiet thank you. "Don't really like it."

"Alcohol?"

Harry hummed out a yes and took the aspirin, washing it down with his water. "Yeah."

"Why not?" Louis asked, resting his elbows against the counter top, facing Harry with his brows drawn in.

Harry shrugged, looked away, and then spun lightly in his chair. "Do you know where my phone is?"

"Way to avoid the question. I do, Harry, I do. But . . . You have to tell my why you're not big on alcohol. Is it the taste? The hangovers?"

"Can you please just give me my phone?"

"OOH! You said please. You're begging me to give it to you, nice. This has gotta be good, then."

"Louis, my friends are probably worried since I didn't come home and no one is there to cook for them and they're probably so, so worried." Harry hadn't even realized he'd repeated himself. He didn't want to answer the question and he just wanted his phone back.

Louis wasn't even listening to him, just stroking his chin in thought. "Is it a Christian thing? Are you a Christian, Haz?"

"Louis, stop. Give me my phone, I'm not going to talk about this. Give me what is mine and I will get out of your un-brushed hair quickly and quietly."

Louis stared at Harry, face blank, eyes roaming his smooth face, before smirking and nodding. "Whoa, I pissed you off. You get feisty, awesome. Strange to see, coming from you, but awesome nonetheless." Louis pushed himself off the counter and shoved his hand into his sweats, pulling out Harry's phone, and then laying it on the counter. "I texted your friends, by the way. Said you stayed over at mine. You should put a lock your phone. They thought I was you and Niall said to, and I quote, 'get laid nice and hard but pick up pizza on your way back,' nice fellow. Added myself into that group chat, hope you don't mind."

Harry blinked, not even having time to blush by how fast Louis was speaking—how nonchalant he is about it all—until, somehow, the word Ed flew out of his mouth. Harry sat up straight, clutching his phone in his hand, and then frowning when he asked if Ed was his boyfriend. "What?"

"Asked if that Ed guy was your BF. Boyfriend."

Harry scoffed, beginning to stand. "Can't believe you went through my stuff."

"Ohh, so he is?"

"Louis."

"I didn't know you had a boyfriend. Hm."

"I don't have one, you just assumed. Stop that," Harry sighed, pouted, and hunched his shoulders.

"No, no; don't make that face..." Harry frowned, confused, and then tilted his head. "What do you want me to do now? I'm a curious boy." Harry looked down and wrapped his arms around himself. "Dear God, Harry. Okay, okay. M'sorry. There."

Harry smiled and looked over at him, starting to step closer to him. Louis took a hesitant step back, but Harry didn't notice, only kept walking until he was able to wrap his arms around him. Harry's fingers were cold against his warm skin, patting and rubbing Louis' back with a huge grin. He smelled like cigarettes and apples. Normally, that really wouldn't mix well at all, but Harry liked it and nuzzled his face into the crook of Louis' neck and kept clinging to him until he felt Louis' own arms wrap around him tightly. "Apology accepted, Lou."