Harry wakes up first. He blinks slowly, eyes adjusting to the light of the room, before glancing at the male beside him. The covers end just before the curve of his arse, sunlight sitting warm against his tanned skin.
He’s beautiful. Carefully, Harry reaches over and traces the length of Louis' spine, stopping for a moment when Louis huffs in his sleep, before continuing a path up the back of his neck, ending at the soft tufts of his hair.
Louis shifts in his sleep, head turning to face Harry and blue eyes blinking open, immediately finding his green eyed gaze.
“You’re crying.” Louis says softly, and Harry touches his cheek, surprised at the wetness.
Louis sighs softly, and sits up, walking out of the room. Harry hears the clinking of glass, the sound of the sink running, the roar of the kettle, and before long, his love returns with two mugs of steaming hot tea.
He’s still crying. He takes the mug offered to him and stares down at the piping hot liquid.
“I didn’t mean too.” Harry says eventually, breaking the silence.
Louis turns to look at him, waiting for him to continue.
“That doesn’t make it right, but I honestly didn’t mean too. You were with Eleanor and I was so angry. I wanted to know why it was such a big deal that I liked dick, and for a moment I just wanted to make them angry, I wanted to annoy them. I was at Nick’s house and I just, I needed something and you weren’t there. We got drunk and I woke up and we were both naked and I knew we had sex. I…I was so terrified of you finding out. I didn’t sleep with you for three weeks after.”
Louis remembers that. For a moment he’d thought he done something wrong, and that Harry hadn’t wanted him anymore. Harry wouldn’t let Louis touch him and Louis had felt so alone.
“When we were having sex last time I was thinking about how I’d betrayed you. And I said his name instead of yours.”
Louis sets his mug down on the bedside table so he doesn’t scald himself. His hands tremble so violently he clenches them together, hoping it would stop.
“Don’t.” Louis interrupts, and Harry clamps his mouth shut. “I gave a guy a hand-job in front of your face just to make you feel like I felt. Don’t apologize, Harry.”
Harry stays quiet for a while, and Louis focuses on breathing. His head hurts and the room is spinning and only half his heart is beating because the rest belongs to Harry and he’s scared he’ll lose it.
The post sex haze is gone, the alcohol has faded from their systems, and all that remains is hard truth and bleeding souls.
Louis iss angry. Angry at what happened between Harry and Nick, and angry at himself. Angry that he’s been so stupid, and so cruel. Angry that he thought he was the only one suffering.