Once in a Lifetime ➳ Larry

chapter nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

The kettle on the stove whistles loudly with a high-pitched screech.  Louis removes the tea from the hob and sets it aside to cool off.  He stands on his tip-toes to reach the top cabinet and fetches Harry's favorite mug— the one with the rainbow.  Personally, Louis prefers his Doncaster Rovers mug, but he's happy to give his fledgling what he wants.  He fills the two cups with warm, steaming tea, and even though neither of them can taste it, he adds a dash of sugar and milk for good measure. 

    Louis steadily carries the two mugs out towards the living room.  He can faintly hear the pipes hissing in the nearby bathroom, where Harry decided to take a quick shower.  He waits patiently on the soft couch and perches his legs up on the coffee table.  He takes a slow gulp of tea and wishes he could savor it.  He remembers the bittersweet taste from when he was still a human teenager, back in France.  He misses it. 

He misses a lot of things about his past lives, actually.

Abruptly, Harry emerges from the loo wearing Louis's clothes.  He chose a loose-fitting pair of Adidas joggers and a soft hoodie.  His long hair is wet and drips down his shoulders, framing his face beautifully.  His bare feet pad along the hardwood floors before he plops next to Louis on the large sofa. 

"Feels nice to get out of that skirt," Harry chuckles, rubbing his hip painfully.  "It's way too tight."

Louis frowns sympathetically.  "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Harry shrugs.  He picks up his mug of tea and smiles softly at the rainbow on the front.  He doesn't think Louis notices, but he does.  He raises it to his red, puffy lips and takes a delicate sip.

"Are you comfortable?" Louis worries.  "I could fetch a blanket, or—"

"I'm fine," Harry assures, shaking his head.  "I mean, your hoodie is a little tight, but that's only 'cause you're a pixie."

Louis's mouth gapes open.  "Oi!  I was average height back in my day, mind you."

"Sure," Harry says, rolling his eyes.

Louis crosses his arms over his chest and huffs with annoyance.  Pixie?  He tries his hardest not to be offended. 

They settle into a brief silence whilst they both drink their tea.  The warmth reassures them that they can still feel, that they were once living, that they still have a trace of humanity left in their veins.  Harry listens to the ticking of Louis's antique grandfather clock that rests in the corner next to the fireplace.  His golden eyes scan up and down his bookshelf, examining their multilingual titles.

"So, um," Louis clears his throat, "I just want you to know that what happened earlier wasn't entirely your fault.  Vampire instincts are sometimes difficult to control."

Harry tenses up.  He doesn't want to talk about what happened.  He doesn't want to think about sinking his teeth into that man's neck, sucking his blood, making him faint.  It makes him feel like a heartless monster.

"Listen," Louis says, setting his mug on a coaster.  "I know you had sex with that man."

Harry inhales a sharp breath.  "I—"

Louis hushes him.  "Hey, let me finish," he interrupts.  "I know you had sex with that man, but I'm not angry.  Like you said, we're not in an exclusive relationship.  You don't belong to me, after all."

Harry nods numbly.  "I, um.  Yeah."

Louis meets his gaze so their eyes lock, finally, after an endless drought of avoidance.  Harry looks scared and hesitant, like a shy kitten in a busy pet shop.  His damp hair sticks to his temples with messy tangles.