Imprisoned In My Heart: A Larry Stylinson Fanfic

27.

When he woke up, Louis was sore in interesting new places and completely exhausted – but happier than he’d ever been in his life. Turning his head slightly, he found that he was lying beside Harry in the exact same position he’d been when he’d closed his eyes the night before; he hadn’t so much as twitched. Harry’s bare arm was curled around his waist, and Louis had snuggled into his chest and not moved an inch. Harry was still asleep, his mouth hanging open, snoring softly with his hair falling across his face, and Louis smiled softly as the blank look on his face. He’d rarely ever seen Harry so relaxed. Trailing his fingers lightly down Harry’s arm, he eventually placed his hand over Harry’s and gently stroked his fingers for a while.

He’d been doing that for about five minutes when Harry moaned sleepily and wriggled closer against Louis, tightening his arm around him. Louis smiled fondly and squeezed Harry’s hand.

“Morning,” he said softly.

“Mmm….morning,” Harry muttered. He reached up and rubbed his eyes.

“Tired, are we?” teased Louis. “How are you?”

“I could sleep for a week, but other than that…I’m great.” Harry forced his eyes open and managed a weary smile.

“And how do you feel?” Louis nudged him lightly to show what he meant.

“…Interesting,” Harry said mildly. “A few places feel…kind of…different.”

Louis laughed. “Yeah…same here.”

“Nice, though,” Harry assured him. “It hurts a bit, but…it’s kind of a good hurt, you know what I mean?”

“I know exactly what you mean. I think that overall, last night was a success, don’t you?”

“Definitely,” Harry agreed. “I can’t think of a better way to have spent my first night of freedom.”

Louis leaned in and wrapped an arm lazily around his neck, twisting his fingers in Harry’s curls. “Well, if you don’t have any objections, I’m sure you won’t mind spending the second night in the same way…and the third…” He trailed off suggestively.

“Oh, I think that could be arranged…” Harry grinned and tapped him lightly on the elbow. “I hope you can keep it up…we’d better get as much done as we can in this next month.”

“Shhhhh.” Louis tapped his nose. “We’ve got the rest of our lives.”

“I’d love to think that, Lou, but –”

“Don’t,” Louis pleaded. “Don’t talk like that. Let’s look on the bright side. We’re here, aren’t we? We’re together. Why spoil that by being pessimistic?”

“Okay,” Harry sighed, rolling over onto his back and folding his arms behind his head. “I’m sorry.”

Louis propped himself up on one elbow and stroked Harry’s cheek. “Come on, cheer up. For me? Let’s see those dimples!”

Harry tried to scowl at him, but to his disgust, a dimple appeared on each cheek anyway, betraying him. Louis laughed fondly at his expression and smoothed his hair, hopelessly amused.

“What are we doing today, then?” asked Harry, a reluctant smile finding its way back onto his face.

“I thought we could watch some of those movies I rented,” Louis suggested. “We’ll have popcorn for breakfast – it’s closer to lunchtime anyway.”

That was how they ended up snuggled up on the sofa in Louis’ living room, wrapped in his duvet and feeding each other popcorn, too lazy and stiff to get dressed, and watching films that would have been more likely to show up at a teenage girls’ sleepover. After six hours crammed together wearing nothing but Louis’ chocolate brown duvet, they ended up in the kitchen while Louis attempted to make Harry lunch – and eventually Harry won the argument that toast didn’t count as a meal, and ended up proving that despite not having been in a kitchen for two years, he could still beat Louis at cooking hands down. They ended up settling down to eat food that Louis hadn’t known could be made with what little he had in his kitchen – and he ended up begging Harry to become their designated cook, which Harry agreed to surprisingly quickly.