Louis' house

8. fight

Harry remembers thinking that Louis outdid the sun, with his smile. He and his pale skin might have been sensitive to the sun, but he would gladly have burnt if it meant an eternity in Louis' glow.

There are goosebumps running down Harry's arms as he recalls how Louis mumbled "It's my birthday"

"I know, baby"

How Louis kissed him and whispered "Happy birthday" against his lips.

Harry just smiled back and shook his head slowly. "Not my birthday"

"What's mine is yours"

That was a good way to spend Christmas.

  And maybe Harry wants to spend as much time here in Louis' house as he can before he inevitably has to face Francis again, pretend as long as he can.

It's quite cold downstairs and Harry shivers slightly as he walks into the kitchen, Clifford looking up at the noises. He's on the couch, but he immediately jumps down from it as he sees Harry and runs over to the window. Harry smiles and walks over to him, opening it so that Clifford can run outside into the garden.

Harry really should have sneakily stolen a hoodie from Louis, it's really fucking cold. He just ignores it and walks back into the kitchen, getting out eggs and flour, along with a pan and butter. Trying not to wake Louis up, he's as quiet as possible, filling the dough into the pan and waiting for the pancake to be done so he can put it on the little pile he has ready on the kitchen island.

Harry is so focused on his work, he doesn't hear Louis coming downstairs slowly while he's flipping the pancake over. He slightly jumps as Louis' arms are wrapped around him from behind, and with them the blanket Louis is apparently wearing like a cape. It's soft on his cold skin, and Harry immediately leans back into his embrace.

"You're freezing" Louis mumbles, slowly rubbing Harry's arms to get them warm again. Harry only hums and closes his eyes contently, wishing more than anything he could just stay here, like this.

Louis sways them slowly and Harry smiles. "What are you doing?" He mumbles, feeling Louis' hair tickling his temple, Louis' arms around his middle from behind.

"Dancing" Louis whispers back.

"I haven't danced in ages"

"We can go dancing some time" Louis suggests quietly, and yes, Harry really likes that thought. They danced all the time, back then. In the kitchen and in the attic, in candlelight and darkness. Went clubbing or to festivals or concerts, lived in the moment and just... danced.

"I'd like that" Harry admits quietly and sinks even further back into Louis' arms. He's so damn warm.

But then he remembers something, his eyes snap back open and he hastily turns around, pushing Louis off.

"What are you doing here, you're supposed to be asleep" he whines, and Louis looks slightly bewildered, but he laughs quickly.

"Why am I supposed to be asleep?"

"I wanted to surprise you" Harry pouts and chews on his bottom lip.

Louis laughs again, realer this time. "Why?"

Harry crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Because it's your birthday, you idiot"

Louis' smile falls and he takes his phone out of the pocket of his pyjama bottoms, glancing at it. "Oh" he says slowly. "It is"

"How-" Harry cuts himself off, brows furrowing. "You didn't know?"

Louis only shrugs at that. "It slipped my mind"