Imprisoned In My Heart: A Larry Stylinson Fanfic

28.

Anne quickly became something to Louis that he had never expected to gain – a best friend who was twice his age. They got along like a house on fire; she popped round to his flat so often that he ended up cutting her a spare key, and it became an unspoken agreement between them that even if Harry ended up being sent down again, she would still be turning up at Louis’ house every weekend for a cup of tea without fail. Harry found it hilarious that his mum and his boyfriend had bonded so well, and sometimes he would go to the shops and come back to find the two of them merrily chatting away, something that amused him endlessly.

Louis managed to introduce Harry to his friends: some accepted him, and some didn’t, but Stan and Hannah were among the first to become mates with Harry, and majority of the rest of them soon followed suit. There was no word from Jay, apart from the odd angry answer-phone message, which Harry ignored. She did come round once to try and coax Louis to her point of view, but when Harry accidentally answered the door wearing nothing but his boxers and carrying a frying pan, she was so horrified by the idea of them having a physical relationship that she fled, and steered well clear of them both after that.

The thought of Harry having to leave haunted their every waking moment, and some of their dreams too: Louis had woken up more than once in terror, convinced that Harry was gone. It had taken an awful lot of reassuring hugs from Harry to reassure him otherwise, and after that they both made a point of sleeping in each others’ arms and not letting go.

Louis had expected their time together to go quickly, but thankfully it seemed to progress at normal speed, and between them they attended so many parties, family gatherings, meals and various other functions that they fully made up for everything Harry hadn’t done while he was in prison. They went on dates, too, of course; the cinema, restaurants, all the typical couple things. One time, they even went ice skating, and they were both so appalling at it that they laughed so much that Louis was surprised they didn’t melt the ice with the warmth of their happiness.

Still, however kind time was to them, it still passed, and they found themselves spending Harry’s last night of bail snuggled up in Louis’ bed by six o’clock at night, just lying in each other’s arms. They had been intending to make the most of their last night, but somehow Louis couldn’t find the energy to start ripping off Harry’s clothes like a wild beast, so he ended up curling up with him, just enjoying the sensation of being together, and being so close.

“I love you,” he said. “I haven’t said that enough.”

“You don’t have to say it,” Harry whispered. “I already know.”

They weren’t sure when they had both accepted that it would be their last night together – but accept it they had. It seemed inevitable: Harry was a killer, and he had only served two years of his sentence. Why would he be released? The thought made Louis’ heart heavy, but he was strangely calm about it.

“It’s been amazing,” Louis sighed. “Just…just being with you. I’ll never forget it. When we go back to having to hide…well, this will keep me going.”

“I never thought I could have a proper relationship with anyone,” Harry admitted. “I always thought I’d be alone. To find someone like you…to do the things we’ve done…it means so much to me. One day, we’ll be able to pick up where we left off.”

They sighed and watched each other for a while.

“Where do you want to get married?” asked Louis. “We’ll probably tie the knot in some state in America where it’s legalized, but there’s always the honeymoon, I suppose…if you could choose, where would you go?”

Harry gave a happy little sigh. “It sounds so amazing…getting married. I suppose it makes me think, because I always kind of thought of us as being married already. I know it isn’t official, but really, I think we’ve been married for a long time. At least since that first time you told me you loved me.”

“It’s been the same for me,” admitted Louis. “I always think of you as my husband, really.”

Smiling, Harry carefully stroked Louis’ face in the darkness with the back of his hand, feeling smooth skin beneath his fingers and treasuring the easy fluidity of the movement. He wouldn’t be able to do it with such ease soon; they would be constantly looking over each other’s shoulders, dealing with interruptions…he swallowed past the lump in his throat.

“I never asked,” Louis commented. “I suppose it was rather rude of me to assume…but I always thought the answer would be yes.”

“Ask me anyway,” Harry whispered.

Louis sat up, the duvet falling away from his bare chest. “I haven’t got a ring, you know.”

“I couldn’t wear it, even if you had. Just…please, just ask me. Let me give you my answer, and then I can tell people you’re my fiancé even if I don’t have the right to wear a ring when they lock me up again.”

Slipping out of bed, Louis crouched on one knee on the floor, and Harry sat up, swinging his legs over the edge. Louis took his hand and kissed it softly, taking a deep, calming breath as he readied himself, preparing to say the words that, in his mind, had already been spoken.

“Harry Edward Styles,” he said quietly. “I’ve loved you in sickness and in health…I’ve loved you when I had no right to, and then loved you when I did. I’ve given you everything I could ever give you, and I’ll give you everything all over again as soon as I have something else to give. I’d do anything you needed me to, and I’d do it gladly. I’ve broken the law for you, I’ve lost my family, and I’ve done things I never expected to do. I want to thank you for making me the happiest man alive, and when I was sad, I want to thank you for that as well. You gave meaning to my life, Harry. I don’t know if I can ever return that favour, but I’ll spend every last second of my life trying. I love you more than I thought it was possible to love anything.”

Harry waited, his eyes shining in the blackness, his cheeks wet with emotional tears.

“Will you marry me?” Louis murmured.

In the next second, he was lying flat on the floor with Harry on top of him, squishing him flat, pinning him down by the hair and raining kisses down on his neck with reckless desperation, clinging to him like he could never let go. Pausing for breath, Harry nuzzled the top of his head against Louis’ collarbone, tears falling against Louis’ skin with noiseless splashes, burning him with their heat.

“Yes,” Harry whispered.