· Chapter 6 ·

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Word Count: 1039

Edited:

~~~~~

"Chop chop, baby, we don't have time to waste," Harry said, grabbing Louis' hand after opening his door for him.

Louis stepped out of the car, holding Harry's hand in his.

"Woah," he started, "This is your building?" He asked in amazement.

The building was tall and symmetrical. It was very appealing to the eye.

"Yep!" Harry grinned, "I had this built six years ago. Now, it's one of the largest fashion buildings in the world. I'm very proud of myself, because I didn't think it would go to this extent."

Louis nodded, smiling up at Harry as he talked.

"You deserve it, though, Harry. You're the nicest, genuinest, hottest person I've ever met," Louis proclaimed.

Harry chuckled fondly at Louis, as they got into the building.

Most of the employees they saw greeted Harry, smiling and wishing him a good morning.

Some of them even acknowledged Louis, which made him smile.

His life had improved significantly since last month.

Harry had immediately persuaded Louis into moving in with him.

At first, Louis had his own room, but after a week, he started staying in Harry's room with him, after he started fully trusting the man.

And, of course, after he started hating being without Harry at night.

He still had his old belongings, his backpacks and the hygiene products. And he had his blanket, too, of course.

It stayed on Harry's bed even when it was made, being folded in half across the bottom of the bed.

At night, Louis would put it on himself as an extra blanket, and would snuggle into Harry to sleep.

He still wasn't used to being able to sleep soundly for hours and hours, without having to worry about waking up early to avoid dangers, or digging out little moat-like dips in the dirt when it rained so he could stay dry under the park bench.

And he wasn't used to having a soft bed to sleep in each night, being comfortably warm and never dirty.

He was also not used to having an actual shower he could wash in, with different soaps, with razors he could shave with, with lotions he could put on after to make his skin soft.

And he definitely wasn't used to being loved so much by someone.

It was all so new, and Louis was still waiting for the day that he wakes up in a hospital, to be told that he had been in a coma from hypothermia, and that Harry wasn't actually real.

His clothing style had changed, too.

Now, instead of wearing the same socks, same boxers, same ratty old pants and t-shirt, or sweater in the winter, he wore white or black or grey socks that had a frilly trim and went to above his ankles, he wore clean, new silky or lacey underwear, he had shorts, jeans, even a skirt, and he had so many different tops - short, long, thick, thin, colorful, dull, some of Harry's.

He felt so pretty now, and his face wasn't full of spots, his teeth were much whiter now.

"Let me show you my office," Harry said, holding on to the small of Louis' back as he guided him throughout the building.

Today, Louis was wearing a pair of grey frilly socks, with black vans, and a pair of short shorts with one of Harry's old band t-shirts.

His hair was fluffy and swept to the side, and he had an expensive watch on his wrist that Harry had gifted him last week.

"What floor is it on, Haz?" Louis questioned, running his finger tips along the wall.

He wanted to look into getting a nail polish soon, to see if he liked it or not.

Maybe lavender.

Or green.

"The very tippy top, darling. The eleventh."

Louis still blushed every time Harry called him a pet name, and every time, Harry would look at Louis to see the redness spread through the younger's face.

That made him blush even more.

"That's a lot of floors. Can you see clouds from there?" Louis asked him, looking up at Harry with big eyes.

Harry chuckled fondly at Louis, and turned to the boy to pick him up, resting him on his hip as he kissed his lips.

"Not quite, sweetheart. It would need a bit more floors to be in the clouds."

Louis pouted sadly at that.

Clouds were one of his most favorite things in this world.

And the stars.

And pizza.

Also Harry.

And thunder.

And ice cream.

Soft beds.

Vanilla flavored things.

But also Harry.

The wind.

The list goes on, but that would take awhile.

"We can take the stairs," Harry commented.

Louis looked at him with wide eyes, and shook his head, "The elevator will do just fine, babe."

Harry laughed, and carried Louis over to the elevator.

"The elevator it is, then."

-

"Your office is amazing, Harry," Louis admired, looking around the big room.

There were lots of floor to ceiling mirrors, and the office was located on one of the corners of the building.

There was a large, dark, reddish brown desk in the center of the room, that made Louis think about doing sinful things on it, and a fucking fountain, with running water, in one of the corners.

There were large paintings hanging on the walls, a gold chandelier in the center of the ceiling.

Two tall lamps were posted in either side of Harry's desk, and a few chairs were seated in front of the elegant desk.

"Thank you, love," Harry replied, "I designed it myself."

Louis turned to Harry, and saw a proud look on the older man's face.

"You're a great designer," Louis teased.

"That's why I have all this, you weirdo," Harry giggled, wrapping his arms around Louis to bring him into a hug.

Louis hugged the man back tightly, and looked up at him, before placing small kisses to his lips.

"The desk is my favorite part of the room," Louis replied, slyly.

Harry quirked an eyebrow up, "Is that so? And why is that?"

Louis shrugged innocently, but kept the smirk on his face, "No reason."

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