Dream Writer » Larry AU

53: STAIN

"Another night?" I asked, bliss hinting at the tone. "Here?"

"Of course," he crooned, elbowing closer to place his chin atop of my knee. "If you have time for two lovers, that is."

"Lil' Tommo's not a lover," he petted the hedgehog. "He's just a bro."

A snort came from Harry. "Lil' Tommo. That's his name?" And I nodded proudly. "Good thing I'm not your bro. That sounds lame."

"Cuz you're my boo," he cooed and I grimaced at the cliché line, which made him laugh. "Babe," he corrected. "My babe. Or baby. Baby cakes. Cheeks."

He squinted an eye. "Baby's enough."

Harry,

"That's your favourite childhood memory? Liam getting bitten by a bird?"

We were still in bed after hours, and Louis had been telling me stories from his past. This included everything from what happened with Jackson, to what he did with Liam, in absence of Jackson. Somehow every memory involved either of the two of those people, which was quite discouraging. I couldn't help but wish he could've had happier memories to tell me about.

"He didn't get bitten. Birds don't have teeth," he corrected, giggling. "But yeah. That's one of my favourites."

I grinned. "Why?"

"Because the bird also left a massive shit in Jackson's hair. Messed it all up." Louis' eyes dropped down to his lap where he petted the hedgehog. "He was crying like a child. Seeing him vulnerable at least once made me feel slightly better about my own pain," he explained. "Although, since that day I have been a little scared of birds. Whenever I see one I feel like they're gonna attack me. Nibble me."

And because that was totally adorable, I giggled softly. "I didn't know that. What else are you afraid of?"

He hesitated. "Honestly? Like, silly things or, the real things?"

"The real, I guess."

He gulped and fiddled with his hands. "Loneliness."

A weight overburdened my heart, pressuring it to shrink with excruciating pain. The simple look in his sky blue eyes shot me like a knife stabbing me in the chest. He was hurting of insecurity and I knew nothing of how to heal him.

"You're not lonely," I assured him.

He sucked in his bottom lip. "Without you, I feel like it."

The weight on my heart increased. "I'm never without you, Louis." He looked miserable, so I moved closer and cupped his face with my hand. "I'm always here. Even when I'm not physically near. I'm still with you." I moved my spare hand to his chest and stroked it. "Right here, I am."

He sniffled. "Never without me," he whispered, presumably just to let it sink in.

"Always with you," I urged, putting our foreheads together.

His voice quavered. "Always in my heart."

If it was true that kisses could mend, I would've kissed him for longer than five minutes, but he broke it when he noticed the TV had cut from commercials. We had been watching Forrest Gump, this time because it happened to play randomly. All the other times had been on his account. Perhaps him wanting to watch the movie instead of kissing me would've been considered insulting, but this was Louis Tomlinson. And he loved movies. Especially his favourite one. So, I just smiled.

My hand overlapped his. "Do you ever think it's kind of lame how obsessive we are with movies?"

But Louis' eyes were still heavily fixated on the screen. "We're not obsessive. We just feel a lot. We're cool."