under your bed in new york. // larry stylinson

four.

It was 9:17am when Louis woke up with a headache.

He rolled over and spotted the box of aspirin on his nightstand, remembering how he'd put them there last night. I'm a genius, he thought as he swallowed two pills down with a gulp of water. He was usually never up this early, but his head was pounding and he couldn't go back to sleep.

He got out of bed and padded over to the kitchen in search of coffee, which would hopefully pair well with the aspirin and rid him of his hangover. He opened the cupboard and groaned when he saw that he just so happened to be out of coffee - he'd finished it the day before, drinking an absurd amount of coffee in preparation for a long day at work.

Sighing, he brushed his teeth, changed his clothes and checked on Milky, who was still asleep. Maybe Louis could pop downstairs to the café and buy himself some coffee, then come back home and take Milky for her morning walk later. His head was killing him and he really needed some coffee. He put his shoes on and slipped out of the door, not bothering to tame his unruly hair. He knew he looked like a tired mess, but he was sure the people at the café were used to that.

The café was a few minutes' walk away and Louis soon had a cup of iced coffee in his hands, standing outside the store to drink a few sips and have some well-needed caffeine enter his system before he'd walk back home and finish the rest of his drink on his couch. The harsh sunlight and the sound of cars and people talking around him didn't do much to help Louis' hangover, and he squinted while he walked, vision slightly blurred from the brightness of the sun and the pounding in his head.

He was about to turn the corner when he slammed into a person and spilled all of the coffee in his cup onto that person. "Oops!" The man Louis had spilled his coffee all over had somehow been knocked over too while Louis remained standing. Something about the man's caramel curls felt familiar but Louis ignored that and quickly knelt down next to the man. "I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

"Hi, yeah, 'm alright, just covered in coffee." Louis froze at the sound of the man's deep voice, and hoped with all of his might that it wasn't who he thought it was. The man sat up and Louis' worst fears were confirmed - he'd spilled coffee on Harry Styles.

"H-Harry?"

Harry sat up and blinked confusedly at Louis. "Louis?"

Louis stared at Harry with his mouth hanging open, but snapped out of it and stood up when he realized they'd been blocking the road and a few people were giving them dirty looks. He offered Harry his hand and Harry took it, getting pulled up and huffing at the sight of his coffee-covered clothes. "Sorry," Louis squeaked.

"It's alright." Harry stopped looking at his clothes and looked at Louis. "What are you doing here?"

"I...I live here. What are you doing here?"

"I left my jacket at Niall's last night, and I, uh, came here to get it." Harry held up a denim jacket for Louis to see, which was now covered in coffee stains.

"O-oh." Louis cleared his throat. "I'm so, so sorry I spilled my coffee all over you. Um, do you wanna come up to my apartment? I can, you know, try to get the stains off and give you some clean clothes to wear."

"No, no, it's fine, I don't want to be a bother," Harry said

Louis was relieved at this, he'd only offered because that was the proper thing to do and what his mum had taught him to do. He was about to say, Okay, bye, when the self-destructiveness in him took control and he suddenly blurted out, "I insist, it's my fault you're all covered in coffee. I don't live too far from here."

Harry pondered the offer for a few seconds. "Okay."

Louis wondered if he'd ever stop making stupid decisions as he led Harry to his apartment. He'd done so well these past years, never seeing Harry at all, the heartbreak and loss of Harry always hanging over his head but never falling. Now, one stupid, irrational move might make all of Louis' feelings smash down onto him.