Dancing and Dissension

Shadowbox and Secrets

Louis was relieved as Harry didn't put up a fight and instead took his hand, following him all the way to the bedroom. He rolled his eyes playfully as Harry called him crazy, shrugging his shoulders. "The floors not that bad." He insisted, blushing lightly at the comment that followed and distracting himself in the closet instead to hide it. He glanced over at Harry to see what he was pointing at, letting out a soft laugh. "Yeah, would love to see you in that one." He played along, shaking his head to himself as he made his way back over to the bed. He flicked the light off before taking his side of the bed, making sure to leave plenty of room between them. He let his eyes flutter shut in the silence, assuming they were both headed off to bed until Harry scooted closer and spoke up again. He opened his eyes and shifted onto his side, letting out a quiet laugh at Harry's question. "'S the only thing I'm good at." He murmured, shrugging his shoulders. "My mum originally had me in footie and my sister in dance but from her very first recital, I was hooked. Begged her to sign me up for dance and dropped footie right afterwards, been that way ever since." He explained to Harry, reaching out to give him a little nudge. "Why boxing?" He asked in return, settling comfortably against the mattress now that it was his turn to listen.

Harry nodded at his words, listening intently and nodding here and there to make sure Louis knew he was paying attention. He thought about the question that came next, and turned onto his back again, his arms resting behind his head now as he let out a long sigh. He could either be truthful here, lie entirely, or only tell the truth without the details. He decided on the last bit. "Dunno, really. Anger issues growing up, I guess. Been hit in the head a time or two, couldn't tell you when I started," he cleared his throat and there was a notable shift in the energy between them, and he turned to the opposite side, instinctively ready to shut him out for the rest of the night just because that's more than he's ever talked about the reason why he gets such a kick out of pummeling people every day. He sighed again, before swiftly turning back around and facing him again. "Thank you for going with me," his tone was agitated, but it was a facade. He knew deep down that today was the first day in years he had fun doing anything outside of the ring- and shockingly it seemed all that it took was Louis. "And for letting me crash here... again," he laughed a bit, reaching out to punch his shoulder. Eventually their voices grew quieter and quieter until they were both eventually drifting off to sleep. Harry slept hard, not tossing and turning like he did in his own bed. He was only half awake when he felt the warmth of another person's back tucked neatly into his torso. He hummed softly, tightening his grip around their waist, his head nudging up against the nape of their neck, and that's when Louis' feathery hair tickled the tip of his nose, causing it to scrunch up. It took him a few more seconds to shoot his eyes open, realizing who it was. He quickly scooted away, going as far as pushing the blanket off of himself and laying awkwardly flat at the other side of the bed again. He glanced over at Louis, before sitting up. "Gotta go," he said, his voice unenthusiastic. He skipped back into his jeans, but couldn't find his shirt so he decided to leave without it. It didn't take long for Louis to try to stop him, but he wouldn't even look back at the man as he fished out his crumpled back of smokes from his pocket. "I'll walk it, don't worry," and with that he started heading out of the flat.

Louis bit his bottom lip as he heard Harry's long sigh, wondering if he'd made a mistake asking the question. He'd only asked to be playful and hopefully learn a bit more about Harry, but he was learning that it didn't exactly seem like a topic Harry wanted to discuss. Maybe one day he'd be close enough to find out why, but he wasn't so sure of it. "That's fair enough." He whispered to Harry. "I think it's pretty impressive, for the record." He added with a shrug of his shoulders. He swallowed thickly as Harry turned away from him, thoughts running wild until Harry turned to face him again. He put on a small smile even if it would go unnoticed in the dark, laughing softly at the punch to his shoulder. "It's fine, H. No need to thank me." He reassured, making some more whispered conversation but the two decided to call it a night. It was no surprise the two ended up pressed together in their sleep, despite their attempts at lying as far as they could get before drifting off. Louis didn't have time to even realize what had happened, Harry already back to the other side of the bed when he woke up. He rubbed a hand over his face, waking himself enough so he could get up and take Harry home. Or at least that's what he thought he plan was. Harry left in a hurry without his shirt, leaving Louis standing there quite stunned and trying to piece together what just happened. He let out a soft sigh as he found Harry's shirt, folding it neatly and adding it into his dance bag. Harry's strange behaviour was still on his mind as he showered and got ready for the day, shaking it off as the ballet studio came into view. He wasn't going to let Harry be a distraction to him again, heading straight into the building without looking to see if Harry had made it or if his car had been fixed and parked across the road from him. Over the next few days, he tried to get the shirt back to Harry but it was starting to seem more of a challenge than he'd anticipated.  They didn't seem to cross paths nearly as much as they had previously, Louis was starting to wonder if Harry had been avoiding him. After a particularly stressful rehearsal one afternoon, Louis had decided to treat himself to a smoothie, but just to his luck he'd ended up with half the smoothie down his top and no change of clothes in his bag. "Fuck." He muttered under his breath, a little pout on his lips as he looked at spot on his t-shirt. He opened his bag and it was then he saw Harry's shirt still folded neatly where it had been since the day he left it, shrugging his shoulders to himself before changing into it. It'd be fine, he could bring it home to wash it and return it to its spot in his bag in case he ever ran into Harry. He tried his best to ignore how much it smelt like Harry, sipping on what was left of his smoothie and carrying on with his afternoon.