Letters to the Author -Larry Stylinson

chapter sixteen

When he finds the popcorn in the cabinet by the microwave, he rips open the bag, all the while humming the melody of stupid songs that he made up in his head. "Making popcorn," he sings, grinning to himself and placing the bag in the microwave. He closes the door and sets the time, sighing and sitting on the counter to wait when it starts.

Ever since he was little, he found entertainment in watching the bag of popcorn twirl around on the plate, even though it hurt his eyes a little due to the light. He ignored it though, breathing in the buttery, salty smell of popcorn as it pops in the bag.

"You still love watching that don't you?" he hears Harry's voice behind him, and he turns his head to look at him.

"Yeah," Louis says softly, deciding not to question Harry on his word choice in the sentence. "Yeah, I really do like watching it. Makes me think of old times, I guess."

"I picked a movie," Harry says, walking up to Louis and pushing himself by his hands so that he is sitting next to Louis on the counter.

"Really, which one?" Louis asks, tilting his head. He notices that Harry got a haircut. His hair curls up at his ears, and his fringe brushes messily across his forehead. He can't help but just reach out and touch it, and Harry reaches up and grabs his hand, a huge grin on his face.

"I told you that you couldn't resist the curls," Harry says lowly, his voice full of so much mystery yet familiarity, and Louis finds himself blushing deeply. "And we're watching Zombieland, aren't you excited?"

Louis furrows his brows. "Never seen that movie."

Harry frowns, looking troubled, before shaking his head. "Yeah, of course, yeah I'm stupid."

"Hey," Louis says, gently touching Harry's knee. "You're not stupid, Harry."

Harry looks at Louis, his green eyes sad, his posture slumped. Personally, Louis thinks that he looks like an adorable puppy, but that isn't what is important right now. So instead, he just reaches up and touches Harry's cheek with his fingers, letting them linger on the soft warm skin for a moment before pulling back. "You're not stupid, Harry," he repeats, hoping that maybe he'll listen the second time.

"Let's watch the movie, yeah?" Harry's voice is quiet, and he gulps deeply after he speaks.

"Yeah," Louis responds, but he makes sure to tell Harry that he isn't stupid one last time.

***

"The girls are wanting me to read them a bedtime story again tonight," Louis sighs, but he is smiling while he says it.

Harry is with him. Harry had originally planned on sleeping in a nearby hotel, but Jay waved him off. Said it was nonsense. Louis agreed, and said either slept on the couch or on the comfortable chair in his room, or he slept nowhere. He said that Harry had no choice.

And because Louis is in charge, Harry had to listen.

"Can I help you read the bedtime story?" Harry asks nervously, grabbing his toothbrush out of his carry on and carefully lining it with toothpaste. "I really like your little sisters."

"They're my nuggles," Louis says fondly, and then there is a whole bunch of fond in the room because now Harry is staring at him.

"You still, I mean, you call them nuggles?"

Louis nods. "Ehm,  yeah Harry. That's what they are."

"Yeah, I just thought... do you remember when you made that name up?"

Louis looks up at the ceiling of the bathroom they are standing in, and Harry takes this opportunity to shove his toothbrush in his mouth, brushing and waiting for Louis to respond.

"Ehm..." Louis pauses. "I'm sure I can remember, it was just so long ago, I just don't...." he trails off. "I don't know." He sounds genuinely upset. "I don't even know the reason why I call my Phoebs and Daise the thing I do."

Harry spits in the sink, rinsing his mouth and drying it off before speaking. "I'm really sorry, Louis. I shouldn't have asked you that."

Louis immediately waves him off. "Harry, no. I don't see how that would be your fault. Just mine. I have a bad memory."

"I'm sorry," Harry says again, and Louis laughs.

"Stop apologizing. I love how nice you are, Harold, but sometimes it's better to just not say anything."

Harry sits in silence for a little bit, before whispering so quietly that only people close to him would be able to hear, "I'm sorry."

Louis groans. "You're a twat, you know that right?"

When Harry nods, he laughs, and for some reason he has the urge to say I love you.

You barely know him, Louis thinks, and the thought makes him sad.

He decides to brush it off, preparing himself for the bedtime story.

"Let's do this," Louis smiles, and he doesn't even pull back when Harry grabs his hand.

***

Three days in a row, whoa.

I love you guys, obviously. I love you.

-Kayla. x