I Hear You Calling In the Dead of Night

Chapter 11: Dude Looks Like a Lady

~Oh, I feel overjoyed when you listen to my words.  I see them sinking in. Oh, I see them crawling underneath your skin...~

I hear you calling in the dead of night

While Louis is in the loo getting changed, Harry ducks his head into Louis' room to check on the girls before he goes downstairs. They're huddled together on Louis' bed, a tangle of arms and legs and flyaway blond hair that's difficult to pick apart in the dim bluish glow of the television. "Just wanted to say goodnight," Harry says softly, stooping down to give the closest girl a hug.

"Will you be here in the morning?" Phoebe yawns sleepily, rubbing her face into Harry's chest as he lifts her up.

Harry bites back a smile, feeling slightly giddy at the thought. It's no secret that the girls love him and want him around (even Lottie who's too cool to admit it), but knowing Louis wants him there makes it all the better. Harry no longer has to feel like he's tiptoeing around the other boy's mood-swings, trying to maintain a bystander's distance. Louis loves him. The words are like a magic spell drawing Harry out of a long coma and he still can't quite convince himself he's awake.

"Yeah. I'll be here." And every morning after, he thinks but doesn't say aloud.

"Will you make us breakfast?" Daisy asks excitedly, tugging on the hem of Harry's shirt as Harry bends down to hug her.

Harry pauses, rubbing his chin as he pretends to consider. "If you brush your teeth and wash your faces and get into bed by ten thirty." Fizzy groans at the terms, but readily accepts a hug, clinging to Harry just a little bit longer than the others.

Lottie looks up from where she's leaning back against the headboard, rapidly texting someone on her mobile. She looks more like Louis everyday - not just physically - but in the challenging glint in her blue eyes, the turned-up, rebellious tilt of her chin. "I'm not hugging you," she deadpans, returning to her mobile.

"Ahh, you're too cool for me now, huh?" Harry teases.

"I was always too cool for you," Lottie rolls her eyes, looking so much like Louis it makes his chest hurt. Harry tries not to let it get to him. He knows it's not just him - Lottie's started making her mum drop her off a block away from school so her friends won't see - but it still stings. Harry never went through that teenage rebellion phase himself, but then, he couldn't really afford to alienate the only parent he had.

"Guess you're too cool for blueberry pancakes then," Harry says slowly. Lottie's big blue eyes briefly flash with excitement before she schools her face back into an expression of nonchalance. So much like her brother; cards played close to her chest.

"Throw a cup of coffee into the deal and I might think of hugging you," she negotiates.

"One cup. And you don't tell your mum."

Lottie smirks, reaching up to give him a quick hug. "As if I'd tell her anything anyway."

***

The party goes on for another four hours, until someone throws up in the front garden and one of the neighbors threatens to call the police. Harry doesn't know much about parties, but he supposes by any measure, it's been a success. In all honesty, he's just happy it's over. He's trying to come out of his shell more, but he thinks he might not be the partying type. For Louis, being social seems to recharge his batteries, feeding his appetite for excitement and gossip, but for Harry it's oftentimes just exhausting. As the party's host, Louis makes sure to mingle with everyone, but Harry finds it easier to deal with just one or two people at a time. He spends most of the evening wedged into one corner of the couch, playing cards with Liam and Zayn and shouting to be heard over the music, and doesn't drink anything stronger than Coke all night.