Turquoise (L.S)

XVIII

Warmth engulfed Louis as he slowly opened his eyes. Soft, wild curls were pressed against his face, and he breathed in their musky scent. A gentle sigh could be heard from the mop of hair and Louis smiled, wrapping his arms tighter around the warm body.

"Good morning," A rough, deep voice mumbled, laced with sleep.

"Hi," Louis whispered back, burrowing himself deeper into the homely and welcoming smell.

"Do you want me to go and get coffee," The body turned around, and Louis loosened his arms slightly. Piercing green eyes stared at him, full of wonder and contentment. Their hand came up and stroked Louis's cheek and jaw, gently.

"Yes please, H," Louis leaned into the touch, obsessed with the feeling of Harry's hands on him.

This was how they had woken up for the past three day. Limbs tangled in a knot of happiness and bliss. It was a habit that Louis was slowly getting used too, and he was not about to break it.

"I love it when you call me that," Harry beamed his pearly white teeth toward the Doncaster lad before sliding out of bed, careful to tuck the covers over Louis, so he did not get cold. He nodded gratefully, and took in Harry's naked form.

In the dainty sunlight, he seemed ethereal; carved by the Gods. His deep chestnut hair had a slight auburn glow to it, and his curls were tousled messily, like a regal crown on his head. The light made his sun kissed skin shine, like he had been dipped into pure gold, and his eyes glistened. They glistened like the purest form of love when the morning dew drops were placed on leaves in a dense forest, the sun just poking through the branches.

"You're staring," Harry mumbled and looked down, trying not to smile. The pose made him appear even more breathtaking, a tone of endearment about his appearance.

"Sorry," Louis looked away briefly, slightly embarrassed that he had been caught.

"It's just-" Louis looked up again, his sea blue eyes searching for their green companion.

Finally they met, nature merging at a road not often taken. Louis was glad that he had taken the one less traveled by, and leaned into the protective dense branches.

"You're so beautiful," He admitted keeping his voice quiet, like it was a secret. Harry chuckled, blushing slightly, before grabbing a robe and leaving the room.

Louis snuggled deeper under the covers that were still warm from Harry's presence, and tried not to overthink his situation. In truth, he wasn't sure where him and Harry stood now. He knew that they were not nothing, that much was certain, but did that make him his boyfriend? Could he even call himself that when Harry had a wife, and an established life without him? Was it even possible to be in a relationship with a closeted man? That was a thought for another day, another time.

Right now, he was too happy to really think with his head. Finally, he was here, and Harry was downstairs, making coffee, probably humming a Beatles tune under his breath, and gently swaying his hips. It felt surreal, and yet Louis never wanted it to end.

"Two sugars, and a dash of milk, just how you like it," Harry announced walking back into the bedroom, and placing the coffee cup on the bedside table. Louis raised his eyebrow at it, and tried not to laugh. On the mug, was an illustration of a cat, and little ears poking out of the top, giving it a 3D effect.

"What? Did I get your order wrong?" Harry began to panic, misreading Louis's attempts not to giggle as a frown. The urgent worry in his voice tipped the smaller lad over the edge, and he burst into fits of laughter.

"What's so funny?" Amusement was now laced in Harry's voice, and a smirk formed on his plump lips that were still raw from the excessive kissing the night before.