No Strings Attached

Chapter Ten

Finally, after what felt like several days rolled into several dragging minutes, Louis sighed and the corners of Harry’s lips fell slightly. 

“No,” Louis said, avoiding Harry’s eye contact and watching the way his hands clenched into fists, reminding himself that attachment was not an option. “What kind of friend would I be if I kept you all to myself? You’re about to get big, Haz. Like, ridiculously big. I know it. The world is going to be your oyster, and I don’t want my selfishness to be the reason that you don’t take a chance on meeting someone new.” 

Harry looked like he might argue and for several seconds there, Louis might have wished that he had. But where words should have fallen from the younger boy’s lips, a mumble of agreement came instead, and he reclined into his chair accepting the truth of Louis’ statement, his expression mingled with defeat. 

“Okay,” he had said simply, his gaze cast on the intricate patterns carved into the wood of the kitchen table. 

The rest of the uncertainty, Louis realized, came from how fucking difficult it was to have that conversation and to arrive at that seemingly impossible conclusion. Why was it such a struggle to realize that waiting wasn’t going to work out, and why was it such torture to swallow the simple words that could have made everything so much easier? 

It was an endless shade of gray, one that didn’t normally accompany this type of relationship. The whole point had been to make everything into black and white, into terms that they could both understand and agree on. There was no point to getting emotionally invested because it couldn’t possibly end well for either of them. And there was no point to making more out of this because it was as close to nothing as it could get. After all, casual sex was just about the lowest common denominator that two people could share, and they weren’t going to jeopardize or exacerbate that simply because there was nothing to complicate. 

But there had been. Along the way, the arrangement fostered something more. Something that made saying their goodbyes an unforeseen kind of torment. 

So when they slept together on that last night, the night before Harry’s time could no longer be called his own and Louis’ life would be reset to something he could hardly even recall, they didn’t share words. 

Light kisses would have to do. 

***

Fortunately, the first month went by quickly. 

Much to Louis’ surprise, life didn’t end the moment that Harry walked out of his flat. On the contrary, the world kept spinning and life took its normal pace as he had to contend with sitters and work schedules and protective Zayn once more. It was frightening how so much of that old routine came rushing back, and when he thought about it, he realized that for all Harry had changed within him, he hadn’t changed much of what happened around him. 

At nineteen months, Rosie wasn’t as much of the obliging little girl she once was. As time morphed her into something more and more beautiful and wonderful with her words by the day, it also changed her into a toddler closer to two-years-old than ever before. And with that change came the inevitable fussiness and restlessness from being cooped up in a flat for too many hours at a time. 

So with his mum and Zayn’s advice, and against all of his internal conflict, he finally enrolled her in childcare, one specifically for children her age. It was another form of torture to come to terms with this new development, and even more so when Rosie’s vision grew to include other children – some Louis realized she could perhaps call friends – and not just her father. Her childcare teachers assured him that she would be fine and that, better yet, they would be fine. So he didn’t worry. At least, not too much.