for angels to fly | lwt + hes.

Chapter 10

The hesitation in Harry’s expression faded almost instantly and another emotion Louis couldn’t quite decipher stirred behind his eyes. They simply looked at one another for a moment, and Louis felt strangely overwhelmed by the intensity of those green orbs, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling and a flush creeping over his skin. Something swooped behind Louis’ abdomen as Harry brought one hand up to skim over Louis’ cheekbone gently. There was something like fascination in his expression and Louis swallowed hard. 

And then, without warning, Harry released Louis to roll across the bed and clamber out of it, somewhat lacking in grace.

Louis was startled at the abrupt change of atmosphere and propped himself up on his elbow, frowning at the other boy. ‘I’m starving,’ Harry said haltingly, by way of explanation. 

But his eyes were innocent and he was wearing his trademark grin and though Louis was disconcerted by the change in his demeanour the thought crossed his mind that maybe the other boy really was just hungry. Louis was clearly the one who was having difficulty figuring out what the boundaries of their… relationship were.

Louis affected a nod and rolled out of bed on his side, wandering over to his drawers to pull out an old pair of sweat pants, tugging them on over his boxers. He tried to calm the fluttering in his stomach as he turned back to face Harry, who was still fully-dressed from the night before, hoping that his feelings weren’t written all over his face.

‘Come on then, Styles, breakfast isn’t going to cook itself.’

***

Louis wasn’t sure why he was so unnerved by the entire thing but he couldn’t stop thinking about it, about waking up wrapped around Harry and about the way he had looked at him right before rolling out of bed. Harry had acted completely normal for the rest of the morning, and indeed in the days that followed. There was nothing different in his manner; he was the same cheeky, unfairly adorable, frustratingly sexy boy and it drove Louis absolutely mad. He had trouble settling back into their routine of playful banter and incredible sex without thinking about the softness that had appeared in those eyes; Christ, it had been almost tender. Louis felt certain that Harry would be able to notice his distraction, the way he became easily disarmed under that gaze just as he had when they had first met. But he didn’t mention anything and treated Louis like he always had. 

There was one notable difference concerning the younger boy, however; he used the key Louis had given him a lot after that. It seemed that, armed with Louis’ reassurance and the knowledge that it hadn’t gone horribly the first time, he felt a lot more secure simply letting himself into Louis’ flat when he wasn’t there himself. Louis wasn’t sure what his hesitation had been before but it soon became completely normal to come home from work to find Harry sprawled out on his couch, channel surfing idly, or stretched out on his floor going through a pile of his old CDs. There was something quite… easy and settled about it, when he bothered to think the whole thing through. 

It was a Wednesday afternoon, and Louis had decided to skip out on his lecture in favour of returning back to the flat complex to drink tea with Zayn and make fun of his friend’s latest escapades.

They were sitting on Zayn’s couch, tea sitting in front of them on the coffee table and the TV on mute. Louis had always liked being in Zayn’s flat more than his own; he thought that it might have been because he hated the quiet and hated being alone, but in the other boy’s home there always seemed to be music playing or the TV blaring or something that made it feel more welcoming than Louis’ own. Maybe that was why he enjoyed having Harry around so much? It probably had nothing to do with the boy himself. Whatever was going on was more than likely a product of Louis’ own imagination. He liked his privacy, but he supposed he was just more of a people person than anything else.