Scared (L.S)

nine

 Harry honestly couldn't believe that they were dating. Now as self-deprecating as it was, Harry didn't think he had that much to offer Louis. Louis Tomlinson was this fit, upper-year footie player and Harry was, well he was just Harry. But for some reason Louis wanted Harry.

Now Louis thought about this very differently. While he knew that there were lots of girls around school that wanted him due to his status on the football team, he never thought he could get someone like Harry. Harry was a sweet, kind, smart, funny person with the biggest dick, sorry heart, that Louis had ever witnessed.

However, even with how infatuated the boys were with each other, with the beginning of their relationship they had some troubles.

It began two nights later when Louis was leaving Harry's house after an evening of cuddling, making out, and watching TV. Harry walked Louis to the door, waiting for him to put on his sweater and shoes before walking him outside, leaving the door open behind him just a crack.

Harry watched shyly as Louis turned to face him, the older boy's hand moving to brush his hair up out of his face before speaking, "So."

It was more of a statement than a question but Harry still simply shrugged, not knowing what to say. He had never been in a relationship, hell, he had barely been in any friendships.

However, Louis didn't seem to notice the boy's lack of confidence or plainly chose to ignore it. "Well, aren't you going to give me a hug?"

Louis' soft grin and words caused a slight blush to rise on Harry's cheeks, but they both ignored it as Harry stepped into Louis' outspread arms. Louis wrapped his arms tightly around the smaller boy's shoulders and Harry could feel his nose nestled into the side of his head, just above his ear. Harry reciprocated the hug, keeping a tight grip around the older boy's waist and pushing his face into Louis' neck, shielding it from the cool breeze that accompanied the late September night air.

"I miss you," Harry mumbled into Louis' sweater.

"I'm right here," Louis chuckled lightly, rubbing Harry's back for a moment before pulling away from their hug. He held Harry at arm's length, moving a hand to brush the curls from his face so he could look him in the eye. "You good, H?"

Harry shrugged and looked up at Louis, "I always miss you, anytime you're not talking I miss you, you just fill the whole room..."

Harry looked down, slightly embarrassed to be voicing his thoughts. Louis just pulls him into another tight hug. "Thanks, H, that just made my day."

His words confused Harry.

But then Louis moved away again, dropping his hands from Harry's waist and pulling off his sweater, revealing his sweaty footie uniform and an inch of his stomach.

"Here," He says, pushing the hoodie into Harry's hands, "Now you don't have to miss me. You'll have a little bit of me to wear."

Harry looked down at the sweater in his hands. It was a grey hoodie, nothing special about it, except for the fact he had seen Louis wear it at least once a week (if not more) for the month he had known him.

"You sure?" Harry asked quietly, looking up to see Louis nod.

And now Louis lending his boyfriend his sweatshirt was not necessarily a problem. It was later that week when Harry was wearing it, not realizing the implications it caused (he just liked being surrounded by the smell of Louis).

It began when Harry walked down the stairs one morning, dressed in the sweatshirt over his uniform. He entered the kitchen where his mum was getting ready to leave, clearly late for work as she was usually up and out before Harry even stirred in his bed.