fearless/ [L.S]

24

louis' just slipping in bed when his phone rings, alerting him that harry wants to FaceTime him.

it's been three days since they last communicated due to both of their busy schedules. louis' been gradually spending more hours at his office with silence eating away at his tired brain. Joseph and him don't talk much at all, just a few questions about the case and a brief 'good morning' on a good day. Joseph is polite , it deems, though his glances and stares at Louis periodically are unexplainable.

Louis shifts in bed and reaches to bring his bed lamp to life just as he swipes his finger across the 'answer' button.

he can tell harry is running down the stairs because the only thing visible on the screen is a blur of Harry's house's celling. "oh hi, you answered" harry chirps breathlessly thought he doesn't come in view just yet.

"how can I not?" Louis sleepily mumbles "it's 12 in the morning, styles." he deadpans.

"gee, as if you don't sleep at two in the morning minimum." he can basically hear the eyeroll in Harry's voice and he smiles. he missed this.

"what are you doing"

from what he can gather, harry is currently at the kitchen. he tries to set his phone on a stable mug so he would still see the screen without using his hands. "making tea"

Louis waits as harry finally sets the phone down at the perfect angle, thought when he catches his first glimpse of Harry's face, a choked gasp slips out of his mouth and he jolts up in bed.

"harry edward fucking styles, you did not just cut your hair"

Harry's eyes coat up with a layer of panic and his hand fly up to his hair instinctively before he relaxes, remembering. "Jesus, how did I not tell you?"

Louis stares at his phone screen with his lips agape. harry looks.... different. in all good ways, clearly. he looks revamped. his usually pale skin is tanner than usual, shinier. his cheeks and lips are contemporary with the same pink color. his eyes are jubilant and sparkling and his hair is curling into them timidly, shining healthy and hugging behind his ears. he usually looks guarded and tense but currently, he looks soft.

harry looks like a new person.

when the silence gets mistaken for hesitation , harry clears his throat "...do you not like it?"

Louis releases a shocked giggle "of course I like it.." he clears his throat , eyes filled with fondness "it looks amazing , H , you look.. amazing"

harry charms him with a dimpled smile, eyes speaking all the happiness he doesn't utter "are you actually sleepy? do you want me to hang up?"

"No, no" Louis lies. he can feel heaviness in his bones from the exhausting day he encountered but seeing and hearing harry makes his chest fuzzy and his brain awake.

"what are you doing?" he asks when harry abandons his attempt at making a good cup of tea and walks straight out of the kitchen.

"going to decorate the christmas tree" he informs, then proceeds to mutter faintly "want to do it with you"

Louis puts his wrist on his mouth to hide his smile which turns to be proven useless when Harry looks at him with light in his eyes and a little dimple kissing his cheek. they sit in silence and admiration with the sound of Harry shuffling around dancing through their phones.

a red and green lights illuminate the side of Harry's face, lightening his eye color as soon as he reaches the tree. his eyes are sparkling with interest and a smile is coating his lips. "now you're just going to sit and watch" he pointedly orders with underlying sarcasm.

"I'm just going to sit and watch" Louis smiles fondly through the screen and views as a soft blush climbs onto Harry's cheek.

while harry takes louis' opinion on a few ornaments while decorating, his ramble can be heard. he's more talkative, Louis notes. Louis watches as harry absent mindedly tucks his cropped hair behind his ears seeming as he has forgotten.

suddenly harry clicks his fingers "Lou , You're spending christmas with Jay and Lottie, correct?"

a sorrow feeling runs through louis' chest, a feeling of embarrassment, a feeling of abandonment "mom's spending it with Lottie" he hushes.

Harry's brow knot and he stalls "did–..they didn't ask you to spend it with them?" 

Louis bites the inner of his cheek "No. They've been getting closer.."

the atmosphere thickens with a sense of pity and Louis contemplates hanging up out of a deep sense of embarrassment. but this is his harry. the one who never judges. the one who comforts.

if anything harry looks more offended than him , eye brows angry and lips curdled. he runs a hand through his hair and the view sends a feeling of something nameless to the pit of Louis' stomach. "well that's good"

"that's good?" Louis echos back confusingly. harry nods.

"I was going to ask you to come spend Christmas with me anyways."

it would be a unfair and untelling if louis' surprise didn't throw up on his face. his stomach turns with the heavy movements of butterflies and his body burns with the fire of a thousand suns. he watches harry through the screen cautiously, making sure what he has heard was correct.

"Would you like that, Lou?"

he would test the impossible to be able to fall back into Harry's arms even if it's for a useless day , or two, or three. he imagines their warm skins flushed together in the morning, their soft touches and gentle words, the way the hold each other with careful hands scared of one another's fragility.

Louis manages "I would like that, very much" his voice comes out noticeably breathy and harry smirks thought his eyes held nothing but comfort in them.

they click off an hour later when Harry claims one of his friends have gotten to his place. Louis stays put in place, eyes planted onto the reflective screen on his phone , replaying the sentence through his brain.

then.

it Dawns on him.

his heart nervously clenches in his chest where he had imagined it would stop for good. he presses the phone to his forehead closely as his eyes itch with deject.

"I love you" he whispers to no one.

god, he loves him. so, so , so fucking much.

"I love you" Louis's voice echos, more steady, more encouraged. he mumbles the phrase repetitively as he twirls into the room of his own misery, confessing to no one in particular.