the color yellow // l.s.

39.

Brighton might actually be his favorite city in the world.

It's not like he's traveled much in his pathetic life, but he adores this place. Shops that are either cute and small and locally run, or large, chain businesses scatter throughout the city. It gives everyone a chance to shop as they please. The beach right down the road was also an added bonus, and to be able to sit during the evening on the rocky shore with a good book made Harry feel like he could pass away happily in those moments. He loves the serenity it brings, and he absolutely adores being somewhere new.

Louis was a dreamboat of a guide, showing everyone all the hotspots and best places to go. He said everyone could go do as they pleased, or they could do everything as a group. It was a mutual fifty-fifty amount, with either the day spent together, or just the evening. Harry didn't mind what happened—as long as he had some alone time with Louis.

And that he had.

The first night of arrival was a stressful one. He was worried about laying weird, or accidentally snoring too loud. He was afraid of being annoying. He was afraid that he wasn't as angelic as Louis made him out to be. And, sure, he knows he'd stayed over before, but that was a complete accident. He didn't have time to worry over those things, because he didn't know it was going to happen. But sweet Louis, with his obliviousness, had crawled into bed beside him and instantly reached for Harry. It wasn't awkward for him to curl up into his side, to fiddle at his bare hip, and to calm himself by only breathing in Louis. It wasn't hard for him to get so comfortable that he fell asleep without thinking about snoring or drooling, or waking up with a hard-on. He decided he'd rather enjoy spending this free time with Louis while he could. Worrying would be for another day.

The next morning was lovely. The sun was peeking through the curtains, nothing was sticking up or poking, and he was still curled into Louis. It was a sight to see, as well. Last time he couldn't really enjoy the waking-up part, but that morning he did.

He noted the way his mouth opened with each breath, how peacefully he slept without hardly moving, and how young it made him look. Apparently he likes to be cuddled against, because when Harry tried to pull away to go to the bathroom, Louis visibly grumbled and pulled him closer to him—all while still sleeping.

He was certain his arm was asleep at that moment. How could it not be? He slept all night on it.

"Five more minutes," Louis had then mumbled.

"Okay," Harry easily replied.

The day moved slowly after that. Breakfast was eaten in their small kitchen, which only consisted of tea and toast, and then the day with everyone was decidedly spent together. It shocked Harry how open Louis was in a new place, how touchy and sweet he'd be, even with a strangers eye on them. Louis didn't care, and Harry was absolutely eating it up. From shop to shop, with grazing fingers and full on hand holding, he and his friends had an overall relaxing day. Niall blew his money and bought Lily whatever she wanted, and Liam and Zayn stayed within their own bubble with things. Lunch was at a sandwich shop with a beach theme interior, and as the shopping slowly came to an end, everyone started to drift apart.

"Let's sit at the beach," Louis had suggested.

Harry immediately had nodded—he can't help but be easygoing when it came to his boyfriend. They both had walked back to the townhouse with hands held tight and swinging between them to grab their jackets. He felt like he wasn't living his life, but a much better one that seemed too good to be true. And now, as they sit on blankets and watch the water wash up and fall back, he really can't complain about the rocks. Or the wind. Because he can cuddle up against Louis without a worrisome thought, and that's all he's ever wanted.