Summary:
Sigh. This is the end. ;____; Longer AN at the end for those who care. But I had a blast, guys. Oh, and there's a ton of fluff in this but I couldn't completely stay away from the angst either. Hopefully it's everything you wanted. Love you, guys!
Also, maybe refresh yourself with the end of chapter 13 before reading this? Particularly Harry and Louis' conversation in the car before they go back to school.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"Niall was right."
"Hmm?" Harry glances over, distracted from his sing-a-long to a song Louis doesn't recognize. It's from one of Harry's mixes though (he's got one in every slot of Louis' disc changer by now), so no surprise there. Louis thinks it maybe sounds like Gotye though.
They've been on the road for about a half hour now, headed home for the week to spend Christmas with their families.
"Your voice."
Harry snaps his mouth closed, blushing.
Louis smiles and brings his focus back to the road. "How come you never showed me that before?"
Harry shakes his head and laughs, clearly embarrassed. "Shut up."
Louis grows serious then and grabs Harry's hand across the console, "I'm serious. Keep singing?"
He's not really sure how he practically grew up with Harry and never knew he could sing like that.
It's never something he's had to wonder about before - that there might be things he doesn't know about his best friend - and he's not sure if the discovery of that unsettles or excites him.
Harry shuffles until he's leaning toward Louis, head knocking into his shoulder softly before settling there.
"You should just listen to this one, actually. It's quite good."
And so he does. And Harry's right.
About two more hours into their drive they hit an angry stretch of dark sky, heading straight into a thunderstorm. And Louis finds himself gnawing the inside of his cheek raw, muscles growing restless.
"Is it hurting?"
"Huh?" His eyes snap to Harry, "Oh."
Louis lets the inside of his cheek go, tonguing over the raw skin as he realizes what Harry's asking. He's a little surprised that he remembers; that conversation seems like a lifetime ago now. The familiar ache in his knee is there, a deep throb down in the mended muscle, as it always is when it rains, but Louis usually does his best to ignore it.
"Yeah," he answers softly, "Nothing I can't handle." He smiles at Harry to reassure him, but Harry still looks concerned. Louis watches him from the corner of his eye as he twists in his seat and starts rummaging through the the backseat.
"What are you doing?"
Harry returns a few seconds later with two paracetemol nestled in his palm. Louis eyes the two white pills and the corner of his lip turns up. Harry must've packed them, because he certainly hadn't.
"Thanks, babe," he murmurs softly, nicking Harry's water bottle and swallowing the pills gratefully. Harry is strangely silent in the passenger seat. When Louis looks over he sees him playing with the hem of his t-shirt, a small, private smile on his lips.
They stop at a petrol station thirty minutes later. Harry goes inside to pay and while Louis waits, Harry's phone goes off with a text from his mum asking if they're close.
