Dream Writer » Larry AU

50: MEND

A/N: I'm very sorry for Harry's behaviour. Right now, I think introducing today's chapter with one of Louis' cutest dream is the right thing to do.

Louis, July 12th

Louis and Harry were hiking.

It was the same twigs that would tickle Harry's skin each time he'd penetrate the same thicket, that patterned against his jean bare legs as him and Louis trespassed. He was caught in a high laugh when his boyfriend winced as one reached his eye. This laugh was admired by Louis, which was why he tightened the of their intertwined hands. He had to speed up his footing to catch up with Harry, but he was laughing too.

"You still haven't answered my question," Louis chirped and bumped their hands into the side of the younger one's thigh as a playful remark. "Don't be shy and make me regret ever asking it."

"It was so sudden," Harry replied, and he was so exhilarated about reaching the lake that he'd surpassed Louis' walking again, perhaps because he was too timid to be parallel with his partner. "I didn't expect you to ask it just like that, so I didn't know what to say."

"It's okay if you don't want to say."

Harry bounced up on a rock and Louis automatically rose to his tippy-toes at the movement, falling down to his heels when the flat underside of Harry's sneakers plummeted against the hard stone ground.

"Well?" Louis urged, just as their feet attained their spot on the steepest part of the slope, just above the glittering waterfront. "Do I have to regret asking? Or are you giving me the answer I want?"

Harry's cheeks had chosen a pink shade when his eyes linked with Louis'. "You already have the answer. It's on my fucking face, isn't it?"

"Maybe it is." As if the emotion had appeared as something touchable, Louis reached out for Harry's face and placed a tender had on his pinkish cheeks. "But the point is that I want to hear you say it."

Harry was gentle when he jolted forward into Louis' chest, forehead slamming softly just under the seams to his collar. It seemed that a persistent act of chewing on your lip was settling for him as he absorbed the anxiety of the anticipation, which transcended when he noticed Louis' heartbeat thumping through the thin fabric of his tee. Because it stressed him out, he looked up to gain an enthralling view of the eyes that had earned a shimmery tint over their blue, which shared the same shade of the sky above their pensive heads.

"Yes," he answered, swaying subtly after he'd circled his arms around Louis. "Yes, I'm in love with you."

And his shimmer turned to glaze. "That didn't hurt a soul, did it?" And Harry chuckled through the feeling of butterflies fluttering in his stomach. "Surely it healed mine. For an eternity. Probably more than that."

"You're a pain in the arse," Harry whispered, which made Louis' lips curl quirkily. "And not because you physically are, some nights," Louis nodded proudly, "but because you are the sweetest boyfriend anyone could ever ask for, and it's genuinely exhausting. Because I have to live up to that, and there is no way I'll never be as romantic as you are."

Louis' hands slid down, more comfortably, and curved at Harry's neck. "You are romance, Harry." His shoulders slouched. "Look at where we are," he said, and Harry's gaze stretched over their surroundings, dreamily observing the wafting trees, the sleeping lake and its reflecting colours. "This is your favourite place. This is everything you ever wanted. Remember when you told me that?" Harry nodded. "So I brought you here, because this is part of you. And for me to be part of you, we need this spot to share." And then Louis bursted into a chuckle. "Bloody hell, I sound like a fucking poet." Harry's dimples carved deep as he wordlessly agreed. "What I mean to say is, this is romance. You are romance. And I love you."