shattered skies ➸ larry stylinson

chapter four

He takes in a deep, shaky breath, before turning the knob. What he sees on the other side is probably an angel from heaven.

Their eyes are glowing bright blue, especially vibrant in the darkness of the hallway. They look lost, and scared.

"Hi kitty," Harry mumbles, a tired slur, before bending over and picking up the small black ball of fur. It lets out a scared meow, scrambling a bit and pushing it's paws roughly against Harry's forearm. Harry bends his elbow a bit to support the backside of the kitten. It is letting out little whimpers, and Harry can feel within his half-asleep haze a bit of his heart melting but he doesn't really know.

So he just kisses the top of the kitten's head, feeling the fur tickle his lips a bit, before snuggling back under his warm blankets. The kitten doesn't seem to want to go under the blankets though, and instead splays it's body right next to Harry's head.

"Night, Lou," Harry murmurs. Yeah. He is in over his fucking head.

But.

***

"Ow!"

Something is scratching his face, and wow if it didn't hurt and what the hell is that?

Harry's eyes snap open, and he is completely shocked to see a black kitten with blue eyes laying on his chest. His nose is really cute and pink but Harry is very much confused. Very much so.

But he decides to just stay calm about it, and purses his lips at the kitten to see what it will do. It just stares at him blankly, little purrs escaping it's mouth whenever Harry touches it's back.

Harry can faintly recall picking this gem up in the middle of the night.

Lou.

"Your name's Lou, you like that?"

The kitten nods, well, it yawns, but Harry likes to think it's the same thing.

"I'm going to talk to your twin," Harry says.

"But I'm guessing you need food first."

Harry turns his head to look at his clock. It's eight in the morning, meaning he has about four hours of free time before he has to be at the office.

"You need to stay here, while I go shopping, okay Lou?" 

When he gets no response, he locks Lou in the bathroom with a few chew toys (his sock, a pizza box from two nights ago, and a wrapped condom that he will probably never use) and leaves to go shopping.

The only things in his shopping cart are a razor, cat food, a bar of soap, and a few boxes of ramen noodles.

Harry feels as if he is one of those college men in the movies that live single all of their lives and their best friends are their cats. He's going to end up with a beard and a job at McDonalds because he failed at his old job. His whole apartment will smell like cat litter and-

Oh yeah. Cat litter.

He buys the cheapest bag along with a tray to put it in. Then he drags his worn out black boots that have black skinnies tucked in them to the check out counter. The teenage girl scanning his items has pigtails in, with some big pink earrings that are so long they touch her shoulders. Harry is tempted to put his hand through the big hoops.

"How old are you?" The girl asks. Her name is Laci, Harry observes as he looks at her name tag.

"Older than you," Harry says flatly, self consciencely adjusting the white v-neck he has on because this is creepy. Her stare is too much, especially for someone as young as her.

Laci blushes a bit, bagging his items quickly, but she still writes her number on a recepit and sends him off with a nervous smile.

***

 This fucking room. The smell of plastic and hand sanitizer will never leave him alone. 

"Your patient is here."

"Send him in," Harry sighs. Why are the walls so white and why is everything so clean?

But suddenly all the colors are blurring because there's this person with these short legs and tan arms sitting down in front of him. His fringe looks wonderfully messy, and Harry has the urge to brush it out of his eyes, just to watch to watch the way his long lashes flutter.

He shakes his head, reaching his hand out politely. "Nice to see you again," he says as professionally he can, although his stomach is churning and his voice is shaky.

Louis returns the gesture, but it confuses Harry quite a bit. He grabs Harry's hand, but doesn't shake it, just holds it there while looking at Harry with something cheeky in his eyes.

"You're bloody stupid, you don't know how to shake my hand," Louis smiles, squeezing his fingers against Harry's skin, and Harry swears it burns.

"That's not very nice," Harry frowns, pulling his hand back and meeting eyes with Louis. 

Louis freezes a bit, his eyes seeming more tired than ever.

"Do I have to be nice to you or something?"

Harry is trying, so, so hard. He can feel his heart racing in his chest as he tries to form a response to say to this boy. 

"No," is all he can think of. He's so fucking clever, isn't he?

"I told you to stop," Louis says.

"Stop what?" Harry raises an eyebrow.

"Wearing that cologne."

"Why?" Harry hopes that this will bring him clues to something, but for some reason Louis changes his demeanor completely. He leans back in his chair, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his chin on the them. His blue eyes are no longer piercing, but not that soft expression that Harry has only had the reward to see once.

He becomes unreadable.

***