The Sun and His Moon

2

My bestie @princess_bubblecum made a cover for me!! She's so sweet and it's so beautiful. I can't edit to save myself and she saved me from the embarrassment. Love you bestie xx

Harry sat, legs spread, on a chair across from an empty one. Louis was late. Well, not really since it was just 9:35 but Louis did have a reputation for being annoyingly early to any scheduled rendezvous. Just as the clock struck 9:40, Louis walked in and his slight smile faltered when he saw it was only his arch-nemesis sitting on a chair, a smirk plastered across his face like he was the king of the universe. "Good morning, Mr. Tomlinson," Harry smiled with venom in his voice. "Good morning, Your Royal Highness," Louis bowed respectfully. "I wish you'd trip outside the restaurant and castrate yourself on a stop sign," Louis thought as he smiled. "Oh, just call me Harry," he remarked, smirk never leaving his face. "Right, Harry. You can call me Louis then," the smaller lad replied, " I hope I didn't keep you waiting for too long," he finished. "More like, I hope I didn't drag you out of bed too early before you could have your fun with whatever girl you were screwing last night," he added in his head. If there was one thing that could get Louis through at least two hours with the lanky bastard, it would be the remarks he'd add after every sentence he spoke. "Oh no, it was absolutely no bother. It felt nice to see what you must experience every day," Harry smirked and Louis wanted to slap it right off his perfectly structured face.

"My father had some work so he couldn't come. He sends his regards," Harry apologized sincerely. "Of course. Give him my greetings," Louis nodded, putting on his glasses. Harry internally gasped. Louis never wore glasses. Maybe they were newly prescribed, it had been about a month since they last saw each other. Nevertheless, he looked good in them. They didn't age him or make him look like a pretentious fool. "Now, before you make a nerd joke, they're reading glasses," Louis informed, turning a page over. "Oh I wasn't going to," Harry admitted, he wouldn't. He was a cocky bastard, yes but not a monster. He had noticed the way Louis carried himself. He was so confident but never once did he spread his legs while sitting or do anything that'd make his figure look bad. Louis was insecure. "Oh, wouldn't you? Because I think you would. You're just as horrible as anyone else. Cheating, lying, sleeping around. Why should I think you'd be better than the rest of the vulture capitalists? Why should I think you'd be better than anyone else? Than me?" Louis thought to himself but he nodded to Harry.

"Now, Harry, I see you've overestimated the profits you'd be making in the next two years. Why should I believe you'd actually have profits this successful? Do you know that the demand goes down when the price goes up? Which is clearly what will be happening if you choose to use the raw materials you plan to be using," Louis stated, handing Harry the paperwork. "Louis, we've done this all our lives. It's a simple strategy. We take down our competitors, become the sole provider of the product and the people have no choice but to buy from us. The price will be extremely low for the first eight months, causing the other companies to reduce production noticeably or shut down due to losses. When their products are mostly out of the market, that is when we strike. Companies like Tomlinson Holdings and the Styles Corporations can take the hit of eight months of no profit but smaller companies cannot. Do the maths, Lou," Harry explained, the 'Lou' slipping. He didn't mean it, he despised the man. Louis faltered for a moment. Lou. Nobody but his mum had called him Lou since he dumped his cheating scum of a boyfriend four years ago. "You're one slick businessman, Harry," Louis remarked, going over the excel sheet Harry handed him. "I've learnt from the best," Harry smiled.

"It was a pleasure talking to you, Harry. Give His Majesty my regards," Louis smiled, getting up. "The pleasure was mine, Louis. Give Mr. Tomlinson my best wishes," Harry replied. "I'll get going then," Louis dismissed himself and right then his phone rang. It was his housekeeper. "I'm sorry, I have to take this. You don't have to stay," Louis apologized taking the call. Harry nodded, walking away far enough to not be noticed but still in earshot. "Yes, Mary?" Louis answered. "Sir, Ophelia hasn't taken any water since last afternoon. You told me not to alarm you until it's been twelve hours," she informed. "Oh take a syringe, fill it with water and force it into her. Hold open the jaw if necessary. That menace never takes her water properly. And mix quite a bit of water with her food," Louis explained, sighing. Harry was disappointed, he had thought it would be Louis' boyfriend or his mum. Something embarrassing. But no, it was Louis being a great cat dad. Louis was now walking out of the restaurant and Harry felt like a fool.

Harry stumbled into his penthouse, a little tipsy and a girl's lips attached to his neck. No kissing on the lips or on the face, it was far too intimate and Harry wanted nothing to do with intimacy. "I'm gonna make you feel so good," she whispered. "Then get right to it, will you, love?" Harry spat and she got straight to business. That was when she felt used. Of course, she felt used but he was the crown prince. One wrong word out of her mouth and she could be done for. "Mhm go a little faster," Harry sighed and she did. "Do you like that?" she mumbled, mouth busy. "I'd rather you didn't speak and did what you're here for. Go faster or do you have a gag reflex?" Harry asked. "Not usually," she said, looking up at him. That just boosted his ego. "Right then, get me off and leave," he strained, head thrown back. She complied and he came after ten excruciating minutes for her throat. Immediately, she wiped her mouth, got up and left with the door locking behind her. He sat there for a while, staring at the family photo on the mantle above the fireplace before making his way to the master bedroom.

"Ophelia, you know better than to howl outside my shower," Louis reprimanded, glaring at the cat who just tilted her head. "God, you're such a pervert. I'm gay, Lia," he chuckled and she meowed when the water hit her. He walked out of the shower with a baby blue towel wrapped around his waist and to his mirror. Yes, he had a skincare routine. Developed one after he dumped his stupid boyfriend and realized he needed to work more on his appearance if he wanted a man someday. He really didn't, he was a natural belle but it was his insecurities that got the best of him.

Harry was tossing around in his bed, eyes screwed shut but he was far from sleeping. Everything about the situation scared him. It was dark and his bed was empty and too big. His room was pitch black. It was too much for him. He shot up, fumbling for the light switch. He took out his bottle of prescribed sleeping pills, he should've taken them sooner. He gulped one down, curling up against a pillow. Maybe one day, he wouldn't be so dependent on some dumb pills to help him sleep. Maybe.

Soon, he was sat on the bed, flipping through 'Mrs. Osmond' and a warm bundle of fur nestled at his feet. It was a good book, the sequel to 'Portrait of a Lady' by Henry James. Although it was written by a different author, it wasn't much different than the actual book. Nevertheless, it wasn't taking his mind off the fact that he had been single for over four years. He was, after all, human. He wanted love, a family of his own, a corgi named Gouda, and a man he could proudly claim to be his. Was he really going to be alone forever?