Larry Stylinson One Shots II

I'll Be Your Sunshine pt.2

"Okay." Harry brings his bottom lip between his teeth and his sock clad feet fidget on his bed. He and Louis keep talking for another few minutes after saying goodbye, before officially hanging up. When Harry shuts his laptop, he catches himself smiling and blushing and feeling slightly hot, even though his air conditioning is saving him from the mid-June heat; he cannot wait for tomorrow.

-

Louis leaves his house at 10:35, giving him a few minutes to spare to make it to Harry's house; the last thing he wants is his boyfriend waiting on him.

He puts on a pair of khaki shorts, a navy t-shirt with thin, white, horizontal stripes, and white Converse shoes. He isn't sure what they will end up doing today, so he tries his best to look presentable while still being comfortable.

Before leaving the house, he grabs Harry's gift bag, which contains a small box of assorted chocolates and a vanilla scented candle.

Nine months ago when Louis first met Harry, he never would have guessed that the reserved, soft-spoken, new student would quickly become his best friend and his lover. Louis has loved learning the complex ways of Harry. There is so much about the thoughtful boy to appreciate and admire, which is why Louis excitedly pushes the speed limit and arrives at Harry's house four minutes earlier than normal.

He rings the doorbell, the silver gift bag hanging from his slightly trembling hand.

"Hi Louis," Gemma's friendly smile greets him at the door.

"Hi," Louis smiles, then steps inside the house that is beginning to feel like a second home to him. "Is Harry here?" He wonders. Gemma's content smile starts to fade, and she glances at the stairs.

"He's upstairs," she mournfully says. "He's having a little bit of a rough day." Louis frowns at this, and his stomach unfathomably turns. "He might appreciate the company, though," she adds.

"It's just hard to see him like that," Louis quietly admits. "I wish I could help him, but it's hard to know what's helpful." Louis regards Gemma as the expert on Harry. Other than his therapist, she is the only person who Harry shares the great depths of his feelings with. Louis has been slowly learning how to sit with Harry in the trenches, but his lack of response often makes Louis feel like he is doing something wrong.

"I usually just let him do whatever feels right to him, while also gently encouraging him to take care of himself. Does that make sense?" She speaks in the same low tone, not wanting Harry to overhear.

"Yeah," Louis nods, "thank you." With that, Louis takes his shoes off and starts for Harry's room. He stealthily opens the door and shuts it behind him, sealing him in Harry's dark and lonely cave; he can just barely make out Harry's curls among the large navy comforter. "Are you awake?" Louis quietly asks.

"Mhm," Harry eventually answers. Louis almost misses Harry's response, what with the hum of the small fan gently blowing cool air onto the bed. He sets the gift bag on the floor, then slips into bed next to his solemn boyfriend.

"What's up?" Louis softly asks. He props his head up with one arm while his other hand begins to brush through Harry's damp, freshly washed curls.

"'m sad," Harry says, his voice slightly muffled. Louis can tell, and Harry can feel, that "sad" is a grave understatement. Louis thinks back to just yesterday, when he and Harry were on FaceTime and his boy was smiling and laughing. Now, he is the complete opposite.

"Did you have breakfast?" Louis wonders.

"Cereal."

"How bad is it up here, scale of one to ten?" Louis gently scratches Harry's scalp. Harry slowly turns to lay on his back while he thinks, allowing Louis to see his face. He looks forlorn, and his dim eyes remain half shut as his hand rests on his forehead.