Vanilla, Cherries, and Cigarettes

Chapter 6

Louis - 2021 - pt. 6

Even though it's been years, it wasn't weird or strange. And that's the problem. It was too easy for Louis and too normal to wake up in his old bed next to Harry. Harry, who looked like an absolute angel, with his lips parted in sleep and his hair ruffled from the activities of the night before.

"Fuck..." Louis mumbled, and he wasn't sure if it was the kind of 'fuck' that meant 'I regret this' or the kind that meant 'fuck, you look beautiful'. Because Harry did look beautiful and Louis can't help but stare at him as they lay face to face, Louis' hand tucked between his head and the pillow. And Harry looked so angelic, Louis couldn't help but lift his other hand and push a messy curl back out of Harry's face, leaving it there to comb his hair gently.

To this, Harry stirred slightly, his parted mouth closing. Louis watched his breathing change pace as he started to wake up. That's when the panicked realization of what they'd done set in. He yanked his hand back quickly, eyes widening.

"Shit, holy shit. Fuckfuckfuck." Louis whispered to himself softly, lifting his head slightly.

What does one do in this situation? What are you supposed to do when you wake up in your old bed at your old house with your ex/not ex-husband who you haven't spoken to in years after sleeping with them? Louis is freaking out. This is why he had that rule. He knew where it would land them. But he just can't say no to Harry, can he? He's never been able to.

While Louis contemplates his options, which are; quietly slipping out like a bloody one-night stand, waiting for Harry to wake up and face whatever shitshow that will be, or go drown himself in the bathtub, Harry begins shifting on his side of the bed.

Nope. Nope nope nope. Louis can't do this. So he gently lifts himself up and swings his legs off the side of the bed, taking some of the blanket with him as he realizes he's exposed. He scans the room for his discarded clothes but can't find anything. Reluctantly, Louis stands up and shuffles over to the wardrobe, dropping the blanket on the bed.

Louis knows that of all the bad ideas he's had, this is one of the worst. But that doesn't stop him from opening one of his old drawers, which he assumed was empty or filled with Harry's clothes now, to look for pants.

Instead of finding Harry's things, Louis opens the drawer to see a few pairs of boxers that he'd left behind, suitcases already full. Louis was too thankful for the clothing to let it shock him to the core.

He slipped into the boxers and leaned down slightly to reach the drawer underneath, searching for trousers and a t-shirt.

"Louis?"

Fuck. Louis' whole body tensed. Harry sounded confused. It hurt.

"Lou?" That one sounded pained, not confused. Like he knew Louis was trying to leave. Louis couldn't move. "Louis, what are you doing?"

Louis turned around slowly, trousers and tee in hand, his shoulders hunched up defensively. He faced a sleepy Harry, sitting up in bed, his bare chest exposed. "I... um..."

Harry sighed tiredly. "You're leaving again." He shook his head into his hands.

"No, no, I'm not, I'm just putting clothes on!" Louis didn't know where that came from. He was going to leave but... the look of defeat and betrayal on Harry's face clicked something in him. He couldn't leave again. Not after they'd gotten so far yesterday.

"Don't lie to me, Louis. I know you. There's no way you got up just to put clothes on. You'd spend every second of the day in bed if you could." Harry eyed him angrily.

"No! I wasn't!" Louis dropped the clothes and rushed to the bed, placing a hand on Harry's bent knee as he sat down. "I'm not going anywhere. I swear."

"Louis, c'mon..." Harry pleaded sadly, "You were leaving. Tell me the truth and then go."