Bound by Pages | larry

sixteen

"Louis, would you like to stay for dinner?" Surprisingly, the question didn't come from Harry, but from his father across the thin door. 

Louis looked at Harry with panicky eyes, not quite sure what to answer. The boy responded with a reassuring smile, hoping to calm him down. 

"Well, do you want to stay?" Harry sat up on the bad, still smiling calmly. Louis nodded his head slowly.

"Yea dad, he'll stay," Harry yelled across the room, making sure not to leave out the slight bitterness in his voice. 

"Great Harry, we should eat now, it's already six." Harry was about to reply again, but he heard footsteps leading away from his room. 

The taller boy stood up, looking down at Louis laying on his bed. The younger boy was so adorable, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Harry noticed a slight furrowing of his eyebrows before he yawned for a second time.

"I'm scared," Louis admitted,

"Of what?" Harry sat down on the edge of the bed again, getting closer to the boy.

"What if your parents don't like me?" 

"Oh, that really doesn't matter, trust me." Harry grimaced at what his parents thought 'mattered'. That he got ridiculously high grades, that he had a pretty girlfriend... that he never talked to Louis ever again. "Anyways, I'll be there the whole time."

"Thanks, Harry."

"Don't mention it. We should go downstairs now though." Harry stuck his hand out for Louis to grab, but the younger boy didn't take it.

"I'm cold," Louis pouted, sticking his lower lip out. Damn it, he was adorable.

"Oh come on, you're already wearing a sweater," Harry tried to reason, but it didn't help that he was holding back his inevitable laughter. 

"It's just a long sleeved shirt!" He stated firmly. 

"Fine, but only because I like you." 

Harry walked over to his chair, picking up his favourite sweater. He tossed it to Louis, who almost missed it, but managed to catch the sleeve. The small boy slide into it and Harry's heart jumped out of his chest at the sight of Louis in that sweater.

"That my favourite sweater, don't break it!" Harry said playfully.

"What!" Louis looked down at the sweater horrified. He tried to pull it off, but only managed to tangle the sleeves inside each other. He wrestled with his own arms for a few seconds, only managing to wiggle around a little. Eventually, he gave up, looking to Harry for assistance. 

He ran over to Louis, grabbing the sleeves and easily pulling them apart. "Don't worry, I was only joking. I don't even think it's possible to break a sweater."

"You're overestimating me." Louis frowned.

"I'm not. I promise you're not going to break my sweater," Harry smiled, trying to get the boy to look at him. 

"I manage to break everything."

"That's not true."

"It is." Louis tried his best to turn away, but Harry didn't miss the glisten of water off his long eyelashes. 

"I hate it when you talk like that," Harry admitted.

"I'm sorry I'm making you deal with this."

"You shouldn't be." 

Harry sighed and stared at the floor where his feet were standing. He walked over to the other boy and wrapped his small figure in a hug. "We should go down."