Objects of Virtue

Chapter 09

31st May, 2021 – Hampstead, London

It was early. Very early in the morning and Harry was rolling round his bed, Madam asleep by his side. There were many things that were bothering him at the moment and most of them directly lead to Louis Tomlinson. So many things weren't making sense. Louis' missing gun. Zayn's description. He knew he's have to look further back into the possibility that the gun was stolen much earlier than they anticipated. Charlotte was looking more and more suspicious and Harry wasn't too sure how to handle the whole thing. It was obvious that Louis adored his sister, so he was unsure what his reaction would be when he brought all this up with him, but this was his job. He had to follow the evidence. And all roads were leading to Charlotte Tomlinson.

Zayn was being discharged from hospital that day and his mother and sister were driving him back to his place in Newham. He knew Niall and he would have to make the drive up there soon enough to make sense of the drug fogged description of his girlfriend and to get a better look into the events of that day. But today was the funeral. He and Niall had decided that they would attend that afternoon. There was also the business about the kiss. It was constantly on his mind. The second he found himself unoccupied his brain kept jumping back to that blissful moment they shared in Harry's car. It was electric and maybe a little exaggerated in his mind, but he wouldn't have changed a thing. Harry rarely kept things from Niall, in fact he doesn't remember a time he had a secret just to himself, but this time, he was keeping it all to himself.

He wished it was under different circumstances that he had met Louis so that he could explore the many possibilities that made up that one enigmatic man. He was a bundle of untapped emotions that he was sure he could dig through, give the opportunity. But he didn't have that pleasure. Couldn't have it. And it was a shame. He could see that Louis was capable of feeling things on a level almost equal to his, if he'd only allow himself. What a shame, Harry thought as he reached over absentmindedly to stroke Madam's midnight silken fur.

Harry stared up at his ceiling, the silence louder than ever, trickling around him as the sky slowly turned a pale orange, seeping into the darkness, ushering the dawn. It was much too early for him to get up and get dressed, so he decided that pancakes were in order. Harry loved pancakes and he liked to think that he was pretty good a whipping them up. He always had the various ingredients needed to make them and prided himself of maintaining a well- stocked drawer full of toppings. His personal favorite though were strawberries and soft clouds of freshly whipped cream. None of that canned whipped cream for him – NO SIR!

Walking into his little kitchen, walls a beautiful shade of eggshell yellow accented by the warm wood tones of the pantry cupboards, Harry lazily pulled out a large glass mixing bowl and placed it on the counter. He wondered if Louis liked pancakes and if so what kind? Whisking together the batter, Harry placed a fry pan on his stove and watched it heat up. He had made enough batter to take some for Niall too, he knew he'd appreciate him, might even give him one of his very sloppy kisses. As the butter sizzled on the frying pan, Harry scooped a large ladle full of the batter onto the pan and watched with satisfaction as the little bubbles of air came to the surface and popped. The smell of fresh pancakes wafted through the little kitchen and into Harry nostrils. He couldn't help but smile, his mood instantly peaking. By now the sky was a pale shade of blue. Harry ate in silence, each mouthful pure bliss. Pilling up a container with the left over pancakes and strawberries, remembering to add a healthy dousing of chocolate syrup, knowing full well that Niall would simply die in absolute bliss when he was given them. It was time for Harry to get ready for the day – it was along day ahead of him. He had already decided on a formal suit, seeing that he and Niall would be attending the funeral later on in the day (it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Harry knew that he looked fantastic in one -none what so ever) Dressing quickly, Harry took a moment to examine himself in the mirror. He smoothened back his curls, adding a quick spraying of hair spray to set them for the day. He looked pretty good if he did say so himself. Ruffling through Madam's silky black coat, Harry picked up his satchel, remembering to add the container of pancakes fro Niall, before heading out of his door.