15 Days of One-Shots (15/15)
Harry and Louis have a deal, if they’re single at thirty, they’ll solve that problem together, by marrying each other. But a humorous marriage pact becomes so much more, through the years, as the two realize that maybe, that’s what they’ve wanted all along.
The first time it happened was after Caroline. Harry was really cut up about it, more so than he could remember coming from a breakup. He wasn’t pointing fingers, but he’s pretty sure at least some of the problem and blame went to the media, who’d blown up their relationship until the nights they spent together didn’t seem so special, only a story.
And their breakup was just another story. So yeah. Harry was a bit upset.
Louis had been on a date with Eleanor, coincidently, when the breakup had occurred. He’d remained blissfully oblivious to the whole matter, until he unlocked the flat, Eleanor giggly behind him, her hand running down his back and under his jeans. He’d pushed the door open, and there Harry had been, sitting next to the couch.
Not on the couch, next to it, as if he hadn’t been able to make it to the couch.
He was curled up into himself, nursing a bottle of whiskey, and it took Louis a solid ten seconds to realize this wasn’t a joke, and that he shouldn’t find it as funny, and fucking precious as he did.
He stared silently as Harry looked up, with red-rimmed eyes.
“Fucking Caroline,” Harry muttered, before his breath caught in his throat, and he took another swig of his bottle, before the tears could come again.
Eleanor took pity on them; she was always sweet like that, giving them time when they needed time.
“I’ll go home, I need to study anyways,” She whispered, brushing her lips against Louis’ and smiling pitifully down at Harry before hurrying out the door she’d just entered from.
The flat fell silent, and Louis stared down at Harry, watching him drink away his sorrows, until his instinct kicked in, and he reached down, plucking the bottle from Harry’s hands and taking a swig himself, before placing the bottle on the coffee table, out of reach.
“Haz,” Louis said slowly, channeling as much tact as he could in the current situation, “What’s up?”
Well that had sounded pretty fucking stupid.
‘What’s up?’
‘Oh nothing just Harry having a fucking breakdown of sorts on the floor.’
“C-Caroline and I are taking a break,” Harry stuttered, and Louis sighed, muttering his condolences and reaching out to pat Harry’s head sympathetically, eyebrows hunched together in slight confusion. Because yeah, that sucked. But Harry shouldn’t have cared this much-that sounded awful, but it was true.
It didn’t add up.
“That, yeah, that sucks,” Louis muttered, removing his hand from Harry’s back and sneaking in a swig of the whiskey that now seemed more than necessary for the situation he’d walked in on. “I didn’t know you two were so serious-“
“We’re not!” Harry all but wailed, and his hands trembled as the gestured at Louis, as if trying to explain something with his hands, that he couldn’t with words. “It’s, just. Goddamn. Louis, what if I’m alone forever!”
Louis snorted slightly and shook his head, “Hazza. Kid. Listen, you know I hate boasting, but we’re kinda a big deal right now. Man? Girls are throwing themselves-“
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15 Days of One-Shots
Fanfiction15 One-Shots written from prompts submitted by you lovely people.
