Bound by Pages | larry

twenty-eight

"And he just forgot?" Louis rose his eyebrows, astonished. They were lying on Harry's bed, snuggling under the warm sheets. Harry naturally wrapped an arm around the smaller boy, holding him close to his own body. He liked when Louis was with him like this. It made Harry feel like he could protect the small boy, keep him safe from the world.

It still baffled Harry that Louis was his. He would never have thought that things would work out for him, that someone who he liked would like him back. The relationship wasn't a new thing in his life, but he still thought sometimes about how incredibly lucky he was to have Louis there with him.

"Yep, he woke up this morning and asked me when I had come home," Harry smirked, recalling the events of the night before. "I didn't think he was that drunk, but he genuinely couldn't remember getting himself home, never mind me getting home."

"Damn, so you really told him," Louis shook his head softly and snuggled his face into the pillow under him. Harry really hoped it smelled okay. "Are you sure it really happened?"

Harry frowned. Maybe it was a dream. Then rolled slightly to the side and felt a sharp pain radiate down his ribcage. "Yep. I've got the bruises to prove it."

Louis huffed and tried to escape Harry's hold, kicking the sheet off him, "I'm gonna kill that son of a b-"

"No!" Harry pouted lazily. He tightened his hold on Louis and pulled the small boy close again. "If you kill my dad, we won't get to cuddle."

Louis frowned, pondering the thought. His body went still as he stopped struggling. "Damn, I guess you're right."

Harry smiled, satisfied with the other's boy's decision. He reached across Louis' body again, holding his small waist. He smiled into the hair of the small boy, drawing shapes with his fingers on his skin. The small action was so intimate, and Harry could do this forever.

In the middle of a triangle, Harry moved his hand down towards Louis' hip. His hands touched a rougher patch of skin, littered with scars and bad memories. Harry pressed his lips together, frowning at the discovery.

"I love you," He whispered into Louis' hair, softly, but he meant it.

"Hm?" Louis hummed, a little confused. "Not that I don't love the random affection but fill me in here."

"Nothing more to say," Harry spoke softly. "I love you, and I think you're really beautiful."

"Thank you," Louis smiled.

"I love you," Harry whispered. "I don't think I say it enough, but I want to make sure you know."

"Well, I don't know if you love me..." Louis stated, trying to reason.

"No, I love you. I love your smile and your laugh. I love the way you fiddle with your fingers when you get nervous or scared. I love that you're shy sometimes, but other times, you're unapologetically blunt. I love your face and your hair and your butt-" Louis giggled and Harry could feel the little movements of his chest next to his own, "- and I love everything about you. And if I love everything about you, then I must just love you, right?"

"Well, I think those are two different things," Louis tried to argue Harry's love, but Harry didn't see the point. He knew his feelings, and the boy just had to allow himself to feel loved.

"Look at me," Harry whispered into his ear, and the adorable small boy turned around, facing Harry. Their faces were so close, just mere centimetres apart. "I love you."

And with that, Harry leaned his head inwards, touching their noses together. He could feel Louis' shallow breathing on his face while he stared into Louis' eyes. He always loved those eyes. So deep, so blue, and so fucking beautiful. And the eyelashes, oh, don't get him started on those. They were so long and dark. They made his eyes pop, and Harry was a sucker for that.