The next day was followed with yet another rainy evening as the sun finally drained its warm light from the cloudless sky of Milan. The boys had spent their final morning lounging about and preparing their things for their departure that night while the television idly played in the background.
Harry had been shuffling about with Liam as they addressed emails and reorganized several of the business papers the older assistant had brought with him. So Niall found himself to be the one to fix the suitcases, though he really didn't mind.
Strangely enough, Niall felt this odd feeling wash over him as he held Harry's sweater in his fingers. But maybe it wasn't an odd feeling; maybe it wasn't coincidence that Niall stared a little too longingly at the soft cotton of the younger boy's clothes as he held it in the open palm of his hands.
It smelled of Harry's strong cologne; that hypnotizing scent of Armani wove itself into every stitch. But beneath that overlaying smell of Harry, there was the faint yet undeniable sign of Niall. The blonde couldn't help but feel a small smile curving up as he folded it neatly into the open suitcase in front of him.
It reminded him a lot of Paris and how Niall had done this very same thing; looking over the ruffled bed and spotting Harry's strewn clothes hidden in the disarray of the covers.
In Paris, though, Niall had seen the complete disastrous state that Harry's hotel room was in after reading the article in the French papers. His clothes were thrown farther from the bed and the sheets were pulled apart from the mattress in an angered fit of helplessness.
But now as the small blonde held Harry's discarded burgundy sweater that he had picked up from the floor, Niall could see how different it felt this time around.
Because this wasn't the result of a hopelessly frustrated young boy who seemed to have lost everything he's ever worked for; it was simply Harry's lone sweater lying wrinkled at the foot of their bed and radiating nothing but memories of him and Niall.
The blonde smiled just another time before finishing his part and glancing up at the closed window as he saw the light flow of wind blow past the thinly frosted glass. Feeling drowsy from the melted image of dusk, Niall tiredly zipped up the suitcase and walked over to the curly haired boy near the door.
"Louis's down in the lobby," Niall whispered as he wrapped his arms around Harry's middle.
The younger boy brought his arms around Niall's neck and draped it over his shoulders, returning the hug as he sighed heavily into the kiss he left atop Niall's feathered hair.
"Upsetting, hm?" Harry mumbled, making the two of them sway as they held each other, "Having to leave a really good mate and seeing our short little holiday come to an end."
Niall sighed and pulled away from him to fix his bangs. He hummed quietly to himself as he blinked his sleepy eyes, "I'm gonna miss Milan."
Harry's plain face quickly screwed up in a fit of stammering chuckles; his wrist swiping at his sniffing nose as he got drunk from the liquid air of Niall's bashful confusion.
"I wonder what you'll miss about it," the taller boy playfully thought aloud as he stepped closer to him and ducked his head to drag his lips across the corner of Niall's mouth, close enough to hear the hitch in his breath.
"The architecture, the landmarks, the open courtyards; is that what you'll miss, Sweetheart?" Harry purred into the smile against Niall's bottom lip, "The rainy mornings, the cloudy skies, the wafting scents of bakeries 'round corners?"
The younger boy could feel how Niall had suddenly lost his breath as he felt the faint vibration of Harry's voice against his parted lips.
"Hm," Harry mumbled against the curve of the blonde's growing smirk, "but you probably mean the you're perfect's and the you're amazing's-"
