Dream Writer » Larry AU

11: MEET-CUTE

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Harry, May 19th

Spending my second night with Louis (who still resembled a hedgehog when he was tired) confirmed for me that it was a habit for him to yawn twice as much around two AM.

The frequency of his precious gaping reduced after that time, and then all that was left was his charming slurs. His tousled morning hair was a favorable addition to his tempting appearance, especially when he ran his fingers through it, tucking the strands in order.

"We should get ready. It's pretty late."

He yawned! Again! I melted!

To Louis, 'get ready' meant take our clothes off and get tucked into bed. He was currently in his sweats and a white tee, and there was nothing that could make me feel more high-strung than him taking his those items off in front of me, in my bed.

"Um. Y-Yeah. Although-"

And then Louis began taking his shirt off.

Because of that, I gulped and forced my eyes to fixate on the tiny hole in my right sock.

"What were you saying?" he huffed while tearing the fabric over his head (I could see in the corner of my eye).

"Erm. I-I don't have a spare mattress."

Surprisingly enough, that wasn't a lie.

"That's fine. We can share. Can't we?"

I couldn't decide whether that was like most gratifying proposition that anyone could ever receive, or if it was the absolute worst idea-God, it was so bad-because what if things got out of hand? What if my body reacted in a way that I would never forgive it for?

"Of course." I gulped. "Um. There are only two pillows, though. But if you want" (I could notice him moving around but I still stared at my lifeless toe) "you can have both. I mean, if that-if that helps you sleep."

He chuckled. "Harry, I'm fine with one."

I fiddled with my hands, because I did that when I didn't know what to say. "G-Good thing my bed is gigantic."

"You don't want to lie close to me?"

While battling interior panic in an instant, I blinked, urging my eyes upon him after avoiding to do so for minutes. Thankfully, there was no morbid nakedness (he had tucked himself in under the covers), where he sat with big-sad-googly eyes while sagging his lean figure against the headboard. The cute pout to his lips was the main detail that revealed that he was joking around, acting.

I still blushed, of course.

"Uhh-"

But I fucked up, because then he started blushing too. "You-You can lie at the edge of the bed if you want."

"No." I shut my eyes, mentally scolding at myself for making him assume the wrong thing. "We can lie close."

"Sure we can," Louis said, finally smiling.

Most likely, Louis must have been questioning my timid behaviour, since I was usually in charge of guiding our conversation. In spite of his piercing beauty and charm, the boy was insecure.

As a consequence, he stuttered like a child, which was adorable, but he had a valid reason! He was afraid I'd judge him (which I'd never do). But now, I was the stuttering one, too. Plausibly, anyone could fathom my pathetic reasoning, except apparently Louis himself.