nothing // larry stylinson au

Chapter Ten

Dreams. At first Louis didn't pay them any attention, unlike Harry whose dreams are vivid memories he can't ignore. The more these dreams occur, the more realistic they become. He'll wake in the middle of the night, throwing the blanket from his body before checking to make sure Harry is still there, for in his dreams- nightmares more like- the sixteen year old is taken away from him or disappears from his sight... or disappears completely.

Men. They were in his living room wearing black suits and ties, clipboards in their hands, five or six of them. There standing with them was one woman, but he couldn't make out her face or any face. No words could he produce, but he longed to ask her why they were there, why she was there. She paid him no attention, she only talked to the business-like men, arms crossed and hip popped out.

Before he could take any action, Louis saw the unimaginable. Being hauled by his arms out the front door, feet dragging along the wooden floor, was Harry, the only face he could make out in the dreadful dream that made absolutely no sense to him. Just as he couldn't speak, Louis could not move a muscle. The only power he had was to watch as the innocent kitten was being pulled away from his world again as he had time and time before in his dreams.

That was all he could recall from the haunting dream after he awoke, the last thing he heard being the wailing of Harry who in reality was contently resting his head against Louis in the back seat of the car. When the wail startled Louis awake, Harry jumped as well, peering up at the man in concern.

"I thought bad dreams were my thing," joked Harry with a little grin. He wrapped his arms around Louis waist, gently kissing his chin. "Are you okay?'

With his arm still around Harry's more narrow shoulders, he pulled him closer. "Yeah," he said in a quiet, uneasy voice. Really, he was shook up even then, but he didn't want to worry Harry. He tends to worry over every little detail only because he cares so much about everyone else's well being. Never did he have anyone to worry about or care about prior to his great escape during the storm.

Several moments Louis and Harry spent in silence, wrapped in each other's warm embrace. They peered out at the sunrise, the vibrant purples and pinks peaking over the tops of the land in the distance. In Harry's mind, he thought about how it was the second most beautiful sight he had seen... Most can assume what the first is.

These thoughts brought up the reoccurring topic in Harry's jumbled circle of thoughts. "So, friends do kiss."

Louis didn't know whether to groan in aggravation or laugh in amusement and endearment at Harry for bringing it up again. "In certain situations, yes," he simply said, pressing a kiss between Harry's eyebrows.

"In our situation we can, right?" eagerly questioned the boy. His big green eyes that sparkled in the sunlight looked up at Louis in wonder, waiting for a response and hoping for a good one.

Guilt poured over Louis, reflecting on the night before. Sixteen years old and here he was kissing on him... again. He felt like he was taking advantage of him. Not only this, but he had a wife. It is needless to say again, but Louis is a fucking idiot- a stupidly happy fucking idiot, that is. If Eleanor doesn't know it is okay, right? The person Louis is becoming is the kind of person Louis usually hates- a cheater and a liar and both in one night.

Three light kisses in a row, Louis pecked the boy's lips, each time leaving Harry with a lingering smile. About to kiss him a fourth time, he is interrupted by a buzzing coming from his pocket. Sighing in frustration, he pulled out the phone, observing it is a text from his very own wife.

When are you going to be home? x

Not able to read, Harry looks over his shoulder at the phone, but only stared at the words in ignorance. He did so as Louis typed his response, too.