Bound by Pages | larry

thirty-seven

Harry put on a pair of skinny jeans and a warm flannel. He tugged on his black boots, gently closing the door behind him. He sat on his porch chairs, waiting for Louis who would hopefully be coming soon. He knew he was being irrational, but he was still nervous after what happened last time.

This morning, Harry had woken up with a body next to him. For a second, he was terrified. He panicked, hoping it was a dream. He wondered if it was regret he was feeling. 

But then, seconds later, his fear faded. He had broken into a huge smile. Something snapped inside him and he realized that it was ridiculous. It wasn't some rash decision that would lead to regret. It was Louis. It was comfort. It was home. 

His cheeks started hurting before he realized that he was smiling. He really hoped that no one was looking at him right now because he would look like some creepy smiling person.

He looked up at the street to make sure no one had seen his smiling, but the street wasn't empty. Louis was walking up to his house, looking flawless like always. The boy was dressed in an oversized burgundy knit hoodie and a pair of black skinny jeans. His hair was tousled and messy as usual, just like Harry like it. He wore sneakers on his feet, showing off his ankles. Harry loved ankles. 

Harry walked down to his driveway and gave the boy a hug. "Hey, baby."

He saw Louis' cheeks flush red before he shyly smiled.

"Are we walking?" Louis asked.

"Well, do you have your licence?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Good point."

Harry didn't have his licence either to be fair. He never bothered to get it for a few reasons. He felt the need to get one since he lived so close to everything. Also, he was just too lazy to get it. It required too much work, even if it was just a written test. 

"It's close, trust me," Harry smiled, grabbing Louis' hand and pulling him down the street.

They walked for a few minutes, saying nothing. Harry took the time to look around at his surroundings. The trees at this point were almost bare. The last few leaves were clinging to the branches for dear life, but they'll all eventually fall. If not by the wind, then the snow will eventually weigh them down enough so that they'll have no choice but to drop.

Harry focused on the big things like the trees and weather outside. Eventually, his mind wandered to the little things. Like every breath he took, or the way that Louis' hand felt in his. Warm mostly, but also familiar. Like it was moulded to his. Even if they've been together for months now, the touch still gave him butterflies. He was still nervous if his hand was too cold, or too sweaty.

In some way, Harry viewed that as a good thing. The relationship wasn't getting old, boring, or mundane. With Jaqueline, even though it wasn't really a real relationship, his heart didn't speed up anymore after the first few texts. Now, when he hears the custom text tone he set for Louis, it pounds in his chest. He still gets excited to read ever character crafted by Louis' fingers, even if it's been thousands of texts. 

Harry stopped them in front of a small restaurant, isolated across the street from a larger plaza. Everyone knew about this plaza. The kids from school, including Harry, used to come here all the time after middle school. It was the spot to be. Even now, Harry saw middle schoolers, who looked so small now, walking in and out of the stores. 

Even with the number of times that everyone had come here, ninety-nine percent of them wouldn't know about the little Italian restaurant across the street. It was a small place, barely the size of a standard classroom at school. The two-person tables were set up in rows, paired with red and white checkered tablecloths. The walls were lined with black and white photos of previous owners, probably a family business.