Can't Move On [Larry]

Chapter 8

I'm kind of rushing through this? I'm super sorry if this seems rushed.

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"I'm doing an interview about you tomorrow." Louis said. "When I wake up, rather. You're not angry, right?"

"Of course I'm not angry." Harry said, reaching for Louis' hand and tangling their fingers together. "I'm worried, though. You get upset whenever you talk about me, baby, I don't want you to start crying. You know media doesn't take tears into account, they'll just release that interview anyways."

"I won't cry. I hope." Louis said. He was laying down, the back of his head against Harry's thighs. Harry was hunched over slightly so he could look at Louis properly. "I'll be okay. I was just worried about you being angry."

"Why would I be angry?" Harry asked. Louis shrugged, because he really wasn't sure why he thought Harry would be angry. It may have been because that was something like talking behind Harry's back, but then again, Harry could see Louis' future.

"Will I cry?" Louis asked, looking up at Harry. Harry looked beautiful from this angle. His curls, which had grown out from the inability to get a haircut for a few months, hang around his face. His cheeks, which were a bit thinner, now, looked so amazing, his dimple peeking out from the corner of his mouth. His teeth, still perfectly straight and perfectly white, formed the best smile.

"Do you really wanna know?" Harry asked. He wasn't smiling now,  biting at his lower lip instead. He stroked his fingers through Louis' hair. Louis shook his head. He really didn't want to know. This was cheating, kind of, because if he kept asking Harry what would happen, he would see it all coming and he could try to avoid it. That's not really how anyone's supposed to live.

"You'll be strong, I can tell you that." Harry said, giving Louis another one of his beautiful smiles. "Even if you do cry, you're going to be so strong, and you're going to fight your way through that interview. Tears or not, Louis, you're going to do so well handling this."

"Are you just saying that because you love me?" Louis asked, actually curious. Because Harry said things like this all the time. You've been so strong, Boo; even though Louis cried himself to sleep almost every night before he began having these dreams.

"I'm saying that because it's true." Harry said. His voice was quiet and Louis really wanted to kiss him, the way his lips were moving were so breathtaking. But Louis also didn't want Harry to stop stroking his hair. "So, to answer your question, no. I'm not just saying that."

The thing is, Harry's lips are really red. They're either extremely red or extremely pale pink, and Louis can't tell which one he likes better. Because last night, they were pink, which let Louis know that Harry hadn't actually been doing anything with his mouth. Today, they were red, and Louis knew Harry must have licked them a lot. The color was driving him nuts.

"If you love my lips so much, why don't you kiss them?" Harry asked, surprising Louis slightly. Louis kept on forgetting that Harry could read his mind (and that would be really, really awkward right now if Harry wasn't his boyfriend).

"It's not fair." Louis said, reaching up to place a hand on Harry's cheek and play with his curls. Harry's curls wrapped around his fingers, sliding over them and tangling them in. That's another thing Louis loved: Harry's hair. "You reading my mind and shit."

"Don't swear." Harry said, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Louis' lips. Louis' hand followed his face down until their lips were pressed together. Harry pretty much bent himself in half, and Louis guessed that would have hurt him if he could feel any pain. "It's perfectly fair, considering I'm dead."

Louis almost laughed, but the almost-chuckle died in his throat. Thoughts of that fight came back to him and tears almost welled up in his eyes, but he didn't let them. He looked at Harry, stared into his beautiful green eyes, and dropped his hand from Harry's face. "I'm so sorry."

"Sorry?" Harry asked. Realization dawned on him, then, and the look in his eyes turned from adoration to worry, his hands pausing in Louis' hair. "Boo, I've told you before that was not your fault. I overreacted, okay?"

"But-but I started it." Louis stuttered. The tears he'd forced back came rushing out, and Louis was sobbing suddenly, throwing his hands over his face so Harry didn't see him. "I'm so sorry, Harry. It's all my fault. This is all my fault."

"Fucking hell, Louis." Harry muttered. He sounded somewhat annoyed, but it was mostly worry. Louis felt himself shifting. Harry's hands, big and sturdy and comfortable, were guiding Louis into a sitting position. His hands pulled Louis, small and light, onto his lap. Then Harry was holding him, cradling him, keeping him held tight in his arms.

"It's not your fault, okay?" Harry said. He pressed a kiss to Louis' cheek, which was half-covered by his small hands, and pulled Louis close, positioning him so he could place his chin on top of Louis' head. "I love you. I love you so fucking much."

"Don't swear." Louis muttered, pulling his hands away from his face and wiping his tears away. Harry chuckled lightly, which made Louis laugh, too. Soon enough, they were laughing together, and Louis' sadness was going away.

"I do love you a lot, Lou." Harry said. He wiped away a stray tear. He didn't pull his hand away, though, he just shifted it to be across Louis' cheek. He pulled Louis in for a kiss, a soft, light peck on the lips. "You know that, yeah?"

"Yeah." Louis said. He and Louis held a stare for a long, long time. It was relaxing and perfect. They both felt much more than comfortable, especially curled into each other.

Their moment (which lasted an hour, so it wasn't really just a moment) was ruined by Louis beginning to flicker and fade. Louis opened his mouth again, but he didn't let himself fade before the words, "I love you, too." could slip from his mouth.