Chapter 11

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Warnings: Bit of swearing and bullying, the tiniest bit of sexual content, it’s barely even there tbh

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Harry woke to the soft scratching of pencil on paper. Blinking his eyes open, Harry saw a blurry figure perched on the end of his bed, both their legs crossed. After rubbing at his drowsy eyes, Harry noticed that the figure was in fact Louis and fuck he looks good with bed hair. He was looking intently down at the sketchbook resting in his lap as his hand moved around the paper smoothly. Having not noticed Harry’s awake state, Louis continued to draw the boy between the sheets until,

“Are you drawing me?” A groggy voice, thick with sleep, asked.

Louis’ head shot up to meet half lidded, bloodshot eyes.

“How you feeling?” Louis asked, placing his arms over his drawing.

“Fine, but that doesn’t answer my question.” Harry said, letting out a large yawn.

“Maybe…” Louis grinned, pushing his messy hair from his eyes.

“Why?”

“Because you looked to adorable not to.” Louis smiled.

Harry screwed his face up at the word. Adorable? He was not ‘adorable’.

“And beautiful,” Louis said, placing his sketch book down to get on all fours, “and cute and sweet,” he was crawling closer now, “and hot and so so sexy.” His face was inches from Harry’s now, his breath minty as he lent forward and kissed Harry’s lips.

“Please. I’m not sexy.” Harry said as Louis pulled away.

“To me you are.” He grinned before leaning forward again, his hands reaching up to entwine in curly hair as he lowered his body onto Harry’s. 

Harry winced as Louis’ hipbone bumped his wrist, “ouch.”

“What?” Louis asked, pulling back to search green eyes.

“Nothing.” Harry said, leaning forward to catch Louis’ lips with his but was pushed back by a firm hand on his chest.

“What?” Louis asked again, firmer this time.

“It’s nothing.” Harry complained, his head falling back against the pillows.

Louis’ eyes squinted with suspicion as he started to pull back the covers.

“Louis, stop.” Harry said, “Stop! I’ll tell you,” he sighed, “I’ll tell you. But you can’t get mad.”

“Why would I get mad?”

“Just promise.”

“Okay.” Louis said, sitting up on Harry’s thighs. “I promise.”

Sighing, Harry pulled his bandaged arms out from under the covers, reaching them out towards Louis who took them - with great care - into his hands; his thumbs running over the rough, cream material.

“When?”

“Last night.”

“Who-”

“Zayn.”

Suddenly Louis had let go of his arms, jumped off the bed and was down the hall before Harry could even blink.

“Zayn!” Louis yelled, knocking loudly on Zayn’s door. “Zayn get the fuck out here, right now!”

His door opened and a still half asleep Zayn stood in the door way. “What do you want?” He yawned, rubbing at his eye.

“Would you like to tell me why no one woke me while Harry was bleeding half to death!?” Louis seethed. 

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