Letters to Harry

Ghosts in the Spare Room

One Year Later

Louis awoke to an empty bed, the sunlight streaming through the window and casting glowing patterns upon his bare back. Slowly, the Doncaster lad stretched out, loosening his cramped limbs and re-starting the blood flow throughout his body. He pushed himself into a sitting position and smiled, happy.

Pushing the heavy comforter from his lap, he stood, clad only in his skimpy boxers. It was a Sunday, the day that he and Harry had so graciously deemed 'Chore Day' so that they wouldn't forget to straighten up. He assumed that the curly haired boy had already woken up and began his chores, wanting to get a jump start on the long list of things to be done that they had come up with the night before as they lay in bed, curled in each other's arms.

Today, Louis thought to himself as he pulled on a pair of sweats and a random shirt from his dresser, I'll clean out the storage room. It's about time we got rid of the mess in there and turned it into a den or an office. When Harry came back, he had moved into Louis' room, and his own was turned into a storage facility for all of their random household items that they no longer used. Maybe we could even turn it into a nursery- Louis stopped himself.

He and Harry had a stable relationship. After everything that they had been through together, they understood one another. They had been friends for so long that they knew the other inside and out. But, there was always a but- they hadn't talked about taking this relationship to the next level. They'd never discussed buying a house or moving out of their somewhat cramped bachelor pad, getting married, having kids, hell, they hadn't even discussed getting a pet.

Was Louis ready for kids yet? Was he ready to tie himself to Harry forever, ready to be with him through sickness and health, till death? The answer was simple: of course he was.

Still lethargic, the blue eyed boy stumbled out of the room, eyes heavy and glazed over with tiredness. He stepped on the cuffs of his sweats as he moved down the hallway, almost tripping and falling a few times because the pants turned out to be Harry's and not his own.

After escaping the hallway and tumbling into the kitchen in a mess of tangled fabric and sleepy limbs, Louis made his way over to the coffee pot and poured himself a cup of the pre-brewed beverage. He smiled; Harry had set his favourite cup out for him and left a small note next to it. I love you, it read. Louis' smile widened. Taking a long sip of his coffee, Louis thought briefly about what tasks he had to complete that day. He and Harry hadn't really allocated all of the chores the night before, figuring that they would just divvy them up in the morning. Unfortunately, it looked as if Harry had gone out. Maybe to Tesco's or Sainsbury's, he thought to himself. We do need groceries…

Shaking himself from his thoughts, he put his empty mug in the dishwasher and made his way back down the hallway and into Harry's old room. Upon entering the deserted living space, Louis was appalled by the amount of stuff that had accumulated within the four walls. Boxes had been piled practically to the ceiling, covering almost every surface available. There were Nerf guns from the MIB premiere, various souvenirs from their adventures across America, even a few bags filled with old clothes that they had planned to give to the local thrift store were piled in the corner. With a heavy sigh, the blue eyed boy decided that he best start in the doorway and make his way towards the back of the room.

Three hours later, Louis had become so invested in clearing out the abandoned room that he had forgotten about Harry's absence. The older boy knew that he was safe, that he wasn't going to leave him, and all thoughts of worry were pushed out of his mind as he delved into the next box of random items.