Louis' eyelids flutter quickly, his mind finding its way back from sleep. A slight frown appears on his forehead once he acknowledges the headache from yesterday's alcohol usage and then he realises he is lying on Harry's naked body.
Yesterday's night rolls like a flow of picture slide on his mind quickly, remembering every word, every touch, every feeling. And he is scared to fully open his eyes and face the inevitable consequences.
What is making the man a little steady is a fact that Harry never moved away, he is still under him, still as naked as he fell asleep, still holding his skinny frame and stroking softly the small of his back. Harry is also awake.
How to approach this situation? How to act? What does it mean, now? What changes? Does anything even change? Louis wonders, but he is dreading to know the answers.
"I know you are awake," a deep deep voice suddenly speaks up.
The rich man not moving an inch, confusedly asks in a whisper, "How do you know?"
"Your heart beats faster. No offence, but move, please," Harry's hold disappears from Louis' back, big hands now pushing his body away by his waist.
The sentence hits the rich man's feelings right in the square, heart sinking deep down into his stomach and he wants to become a fucking vapour so he can just escape this horrendous feeling and awkward situation.
Harry wants to get rid of him, he wants him to go away.
"I'm sorry. Sorry," Louis sits up, trying not to look at the sinful curves of the man in front of him. His eyes travel anywhere just to avoid Harry's, until the younger man sits up as well, reaching all the way to Louis' cheek, cupping the soft skin and making Louis finally meet his gaze.
"What's wrong?"
"I'm sorry for yesterday, I couldn't control myself. It won't happen again," he spits out quickly, desperately. Right now, their fight from a few days ago seems like nothing compared to this. He has to cope with the fact they slept together.
"Well, I'm sorry that you are sorry. Because honestly, I am not sorry for what happened," Harry shrugs casually, not minding that both of them are still naked and dirty, everything dry on their skins. They both need a shower, as soon as possible.
"You wanted me to move."
"Jesus, you dumbass. I wanted you to move because I couldn't feel my leg and my back hurt from having you all night on me. It's not that I minded it the way you probably thought I did," he rolls his eyes, a hand that was cupping Louis' cheek now falling down and taking the rich man's hand instead.
"I'm sorry," he says again.
"Stop saying sorry, will you?" Harry replies with a cheeky smile, intertwining their fingers together.
"Sorry. I mean... Huh. Okay," he stutters awkwardly, "Uh... Thank you for the flowers, they are so pretty," Louis breaths out, looking at the lilies, poor things half-dead on the table next to them.
"I don't think they'll recover anymore, though," Harry glances at them, too.
"I'll try to revive them," the rich man smiles and stretches out to take them into his free hand, "I really like them."
"I'm happy to hear that, then," Harry smiles, liking the view of Louis with the flowers.
"We probably should talk, though," the rich man says with a more firm, stern voice. He doesn't want to talk. He is scared to know Harry's opinion. Only if they could just skip this whole awkward part and finally come to the part where he can feel around Harry the way he felt that summer they met - comfortable and at home.
"Not before we shower and get dressed."
"Right, let's get that done first."
They shower separately, Louis in his master bathroom and Harry in his guest bathroom, though Louis takes his time, to postpone the inevitable as much as he can. He just stands motionless under the spray of hot water, drops falling down his forehead, closed eyelids, cheeks, lips and chin, down to the shower ground.
He is so confused and trying to set up all of his emotions in order. He doesn't deny he loves Harry, not anymore. Though he is still married, close to the divorce, and his daughter is playing a big role in his life, it's not as easy as it was in the summer.
If that summer didn't end up the way it did, Louis would never get married and have Penelope. He is not complaining about that, however, quite the opposite - he doesn't particularly regret getting married and having a kid. Perhaps the right thought is that as much as he doesn't regret it, he thinks it was the wrong path he took a turn to.
Though, he needs to think what is the best way to swim in these wild and angry waters.
He works in a heavy industry, where this can easily cause his biggest downfall. Not that he really cares about this, because he has enough money to survive if he wasn't working for the rest of his life.
It is not the way he would ever be ashamed to hold hands with his soulmate. He would actually show Harry off to the whole world, to the universe and smile brightly because he has found his anchor, his lover - but is it truly possible?
He must not forget he is a public figure, media and gossip magazines are deep into his shit and he needs to think about what to do. The label of 'divorced man with a kid turning gay' is not very appealing.
Even if he didn't care about all of this, he needs to think about Penelope. What would Penelope think once she is old enough? Would she hate him once she would find out he is the reason why she is living in a broken family? Would she despise him for choosing to live with a man instead of her mother? As much as he loves Harry, he can't stand the thought of his daughter hating him for dating the curly man.
Downstairs, Harry is making breakfast for both of them, bacon toasts for Louis and avocado toasts for himself. Of course, he took care of Peanut, since the poor thing was caged the whole night. He feels so bad, he is a horrendous owner. Thankfully, Peanut is not scratching out his eyes now, she is eating from the bowl full of treats like there is no tomorrow and Harry promises himself not to ever leave her like that ever again.
He sees Louis is taking big hella time in the bathroom, which is kind of odd to him. He is not nervous to talk to Louis, not at all. Because he already knows it will be alright, either way. Harry is okay with whatever Louis has to say - either it is positive or negative.
He is understanding and he will understand. No matter what Louis says though, he is ready to go out there and help him. He will try his hardest to help Louis to get through this period of his life, through divorce and sadness. Because that's what soulmates do - they stand by each side no matter what.
Harry will be even more understanding, more gentle and strong for Louis. He needs to finally let go of all the remaining sourness about Louis' betrayal from the summer, and start to pay attention to the present Louis. He needs to finally, really listen to him.
He doesn't want to fight anymore. It's tiring him out and hurting him 10 times more, just because it's Louis.
"You put them in the vase," Harry hears the sweetest voice behind his back and yes, he did put the lilies in the vase for Louis. They are in the middle of the kitchen island. After a second, he feels two arms hesitantly snaking from behind, around his torso. It feels like Louis is very scared to do the gesture, so Harry assures him it's okay to do so and he leans against his chest, "What are you making up?"
"Bacon and avocado toasts, do you want?"
"Of course, thanks."
Harry moves away, just to stop cooking the bacon on the pan, putting it onto the toasts.
When they both sit up on the bar chairs, the awkward silence is both men eating alive. Thankfully, they are not naked anymore, both wearing old simple clothes.
"So," Harry starts, nudging Louis to continue.
"Well," Louis responds and there is another silence filling up the kitchen. Harry wants to scream in frustration, but at the same time, he doesn't want to pressure the man next to him.
"Do you want to act like yesterday didn't happen?" the curly man asks in the end, putting it plainly and straightly onto the table.
"God no. Unless you want to."
"I don't."
Yet another silence. Both of the men don't know what to say, though they know there is so much to talk about. It's just the way they don't know where to start. Should they talk everything out from the beginning? Or should they once again leave this all alone? Should they just move on?
Harry knows if they won't discuss and communicate, it will all go in circles, and he is tired of the fights and silent treatment in this relationship.
Louis finally sighs, "Look, Harry. What happened yesterday was something really special and emotional to me. I don't really regret it because I missed you, so much. But... I-I can't really do anything for us right now. Please understand I do have some shit going on-"
"I do understand. I do. You don't have to ask me to understand," Harry stops Louis' monologue, leaving his breakfast on the kitchen island and redirecting his attention to the man with a distressed look and trembling voice.
"Thanks. I just can't follow the divorce and the child custody, and then us. It's too much."
"I understand. You don't have to explain yourself to me."
"I need to get all my shit together first. I'm sorry," Louis looks at the long-haired man sitting next to him, his face showing how truly is this situation taking a toll on him.
Louis' face is pale, very fallen. His skin is so colourless, looking very thin and fragile. Dark circles under the eyes; even though he slept the whole night, but it just wasn't enough. Louis' once beautiful blue ocean eyes are just plain blue-gray as if all life they once held were sucked out of them. His cheekbones are now a very prominent feature on his face, cheeks themselves hollow. And it's not just Louis' face. The clothes too baggy on him, collarbones sticking off, waist thinner than Harry remembers. The rich man looks like a soulless vessel, just dragging around. It's breaking Harry's heart over and over again.
"Louis, darling. We will get your shit together, you and I. You are not alone in this."
"Honey, no offence, but how can you help me to win my daughter when everything is against me? Unless you are a magical super-duper lawyer who would make the judge suddenly blind to every argument Eleanor's side will propose."
"Excuse me? I may not be a good lawyer or help you win the trial, but I can be here no matter what and support you until it's over," Harry frowns, taking a slight offence in Louis' comment. He knows where is Louis coming from, but Harry wishes the rich man would appreciate the moral support as well since it's basically everything Harry can offer to him.
"You're right, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that," the rich man's eyes drop down onto his lap, cursing himself out for being such an arrogant ass every single time. Even when he is having the most important conversation in a while, and he wants to be actually nice so Harry won't run away from him again.
"I'm used to it," the curly man shrugs, running his hand through the mess on top of his head, "I need to get a haircut, this is irritating."
"Don't you fucking dare, Styles," Louis slightly raises his voice, finally taking a toast into his hand and eating a huge bite. Harry is glad to see him eating, as weird as it sounds.
"It's weird to hear my surname from you," he comments, also taking a bite from his avocado toast.
"It's a cool name, how are you not a rockstar already? Harry fucking Styles," Louis moves his hands to the rainbow motion, looking excited even thinking about it.
"Fucking isn't my second name," he chuckles.
"So what's your second name?" Louis asks, curiosity in his voice obvious.
"Woah, slow down tiger, we didn't even have a proper date, I'm giving out my second name on my 4th," the curly man jokes, finishing the toast.
"C'mon, we fucked the whole 3 weeks and you are unsure to share a second name?"
"It's very intimate information!"
"More intimate than your dick?"
"Tomlinson, I am done for today with you and it's only 9 in the morning," Harry groans, stuffing the remaining of his last toast into his throat, standing up the walking to the sink to put away the plate.
"Don't choke on that toast, Jesus Christ," Louis laughs, seeing how the younger man has a problem to even bite properly, his cheeks stuffed like a hamster. Louis thinks it's adorable, nonetheless.
"Fcc ff," Harry tries to talk.
"What was that?" Louis teases.
Instead of talking, Harry raises his right hand, his middle finger sending Louis into a fit of giggles. The curly man just shakes his head, he would smile but his face is stuffed and he is trying to swallow carefully without actually getting choked.
Once Louis has eaten his breakfast, he informs Harry he needs to do some of the contract work in the office.
Harry ends up alone in the kitchen, only Peanut is shuffling around, sniffing if any size of the bacon Louis ate haven't dropped onto the floor.
"You can't be hungry, miss lady, you just ate," Harry chuckles, taking the cat into his arms. The small animal looks right into his eyes, seconds later sniffling his nose and mouth.
"I love you so much, baby," Harry carefully hugs her, "I am the worst parent lately."
Of course, Peanut can't answer him and tell him it's not true, so he doesn't wait and stands up from the bar chair, with Peanut still in his hands. The animal is accommodating its head cutely on his arm, tickling his neck with its whiskers.
"What are we gonna do today? I'm not feeling like working," he decides, thinking about alternative things to do. It's also very dark today, heavy snowing and it's not enough natural light for Harry to see on the canvas suitably.
Peanut's head moves slightly and suddenly, her teeth bite softly into Harry's neck.
"Oi, you small rascal," Harry pulls her away quickly, she meows.
"Maybe I deserved it, okay," Harry says and steps into the fireplace room. He sets the cat onto the couch, ready to clean the little mess from yesterday. He puts out the bottle of vodka back into the bar counter, taking away the glass that still has some liquor in it and spilling it into the sink with a satisfied expression on his face.
Maybe he can entertain Louis just enough that the rich man will fall asleep sober tonight. He will try to, at least. He knows how alcohol is dangerous, and how alcohol can be a really big issue especially if Louis wants to get his daughter.
Harry doesn't know a lot about the situation, but he knows Louis - and unfortunately, even Harry doesn't really believe that Louis is able to win the custody for Penelope, as much as Harry would love for Louis to succeed. It's just the cruel reality.
But, Harry can be here and help him to get prepared for that. He can help him to reconcile with the fact, and he can help Louis to see there's more to life after the divorce than just the loss.
He doesn't want to underestimate the sadness and loss of a daughter, by any means, and he knows Louis will be upset no matter how Harry will try to prepare him for the final verdict, but he is determined to lessen the pain Louis is going to feel as much as possible.
After the consideration, Harry decides to play a maid for today, ready to clean the whole apartment. He explored the kitchen, finding the necessary products for cleaning - gloves, cloths, cleaning supplies, bucket, mop and vacuum. Satisfied with the equipment Eleanor left behind, he starts to deep clean the kitchen.
He is nicely surprised that Eleanor has so many things for cleaning, meaning she actually wasn't just a spoilt model and influencer who called the cleaning company when it was necessary. From what he heard, Eleanor seems like a nice woman and he hopes she will find someone better for herself.
He knows Louis is complicated, she must have known, too. And if Harry didn't love Louis to the moon and back; and another hundred times more, he wouldn't be able to put up with him.
Poor thing, Peanut. She is accompanying her owner, Harry is talking to her, petting her soft fur once in a while. But when he starts the vacuum, the animal jumps out, fully alarmed and scared running to the living room and hiding in her cat home. Harry feels sorry he scared her, but at the same time, he giggles and vacuums the area.
Once the kitchen is clean enough, he proceeds to the fireplace room. This room is heavily used by Louis, and it shows the alcohol stains and glass circles on the table. So he wipes the table with the cleaning spray and cloth, wipes the dust on every surface and vacuums the couches carefully from any crumbs. He makes up the unmade blankets on one of the couches, leaving them laying across the backrest.
He looks around, seeing the room is nice and clean, leaving it and walking to the living room - he stops. Harry's eyes check out the fake, thick Christmas tree, full of expensive-looking decoration. It's a huge tree, where the white decoration is heavily used, but it doesn't necessarily look bad. It suits the apartment and it looks just like he would imagine for Eleanor. It looks lovely, but it needs to go, it's really close to February already.
He sighs because he is not in the mood to actually do it, plus he needs to somehow find where he can put all the decoration - not only the ones on the tree but also the decoration around the living room.
He knows not to disrupt Louis while he is working, so he calls Robert instead. Robert tells him the apartment also has its own basement down under the underground car park and that Harry must have access to it because he owns the apartment card.
He manages to find it with help from the lobby, and one of the bodyguards help him to take all of the boxes for decoration into the lift. Bless the employees in this building.
Harry starts to carefully put down the tree, dividing everything by the match or shape. It takes him quite a while because damn, Eleanor really said 'let's put on everything we have there' - that is if she was really decorating the tree. For all Harry know, she could just pay someone to do it.
He finally makes it, but dear lord, what a pain in the ass it was. He turns around, finding Peanut manoeuvring around the tree, and playing with the sparkly Christmas balls he put down.
"Peanut, no, you didn't," he whimpers, defeated. Not only he is one sparkly mess, the little sparkles from the decoration all over his hands and clothes, but his pet is also walking like one big Christmas glitter.
He lets her play with it, there is nothing he can do now - only bathe her later on.
Once it's all in the boxes, not only the tree but other decoration, he takes all the boxes back down and sets them to the same spot where he found them before.
He cleans the living room properly then, vacuuming the mopping area to get rid of all the spark and glitters. When he is done, looking at the clean ground, he feels proud. It took him just a few hours to do so, it's not even dark outside.
The apartment looks a tad different now when it's not so Christmassy. It's even plainer and just as if he is standing in some design magazine picture. It misses the feeling of cosiness and home. He misses his flat.
And now, he can't stay like this, he needs another shower just like Peanut.
When is he done, hair wet and in the towel, new clothes on, cat successfully cleaned and wet, too, he comes down to make something to eat.
Louis didn't come out of the office the whole day, it's probably something important and hard to do. Harry doesn't mind, but he can't wait for Louis to see Harry's hard work.
The curly man is doing vegetarian burgers with fake meat, hoping Louis would like it. Just then, the rich man finally opens the office door, with an exhausted sigh.
"How was work?" Harry asks when he finally sees the man in the kitchen.
"Too much. How was yours?"
"You didn't even notice? I cleaned this storey," Harry comments.
Louis turns, examining the place, "W-Where's the decoration?"
"I put it down," the curly man shrugs, ready to stuff the burgers. When he realises Louis is quiet, he looks up, seeing the weirdest expression on his face.
"Is something wrong?"
"No... no. It's fine," Louis answers, his voice low and face fixed on Harry's stained hands from the food. The curly man straightens his posture, sighing silently and frowning a little.
"Louis-"
"It's just... The tree kind of... it gave me the comfort that they would maybe come back. It reminded me of Penelope's big eyes and giggles when she saw the tree lights for the first time. I don't know, it's silly. Forget it," Louis waves his hand, though his face and eyes tell otherwise, "What are you making?"
"I didn't know. I'm sorry, I wouldn't put it down if I knew," Harry's arms fall, now he feels like a dick, he should ask before doing any changes in this apartment. It wasn't his intention to make Louis upset.
"No, it's whatever. What's for dinner?" Louis asks once again.
"Louis-"
"I don't wanna talk about it, just forget it."
"Darling," Harry sternly says, making Louis finally look up into Harry's eyes. It's still weird to hear Harry say a pet name, directed to Louis himself, "Listen. I am sorry, I should have asked before doing it. But baby, it's almost February, we couldn't have it up longer. Don't be upset, it's not the tree or the lights that keep the memory alive, you keep the memory alive if you want to."
"You are right. I am not mad at you," the rich man replies, "The place looks clean and neat. Thanks love, it's a great job."
"Here," Harry finally puts a plate in front of the hungry man.
"What's that?"
"Burger, duh," the younger man rolls his eyes.
"But what's in it, duh," Louis mimics Harry's tone, amusedly looking at the curly man.
"Cheese, ketchup, lettuce, tomatoes, onion, fake meat."
"No pickles? ...Fake meat?" Louis frowns, the mention of fake meat making him sceptic about this whole meal.
"No, do you want them?" Harry wonders, ignoring Louis' weird, disapproving expression and opening the fridge to see if they do have any jar with pickles in it. They do - not only one but three jars.
"I love extra pickles in my burgers," Louis remarks, an adorable pout on his face when Harry opens the jar, retrieving a pickle from the pickle water, cutting it into thin circles.
"That's enough," the rich man stops him, taking the food into his hand and stuffing it into the burger satisfyingly. Once he is done, he looks at the fake meat, lips slightly curled down and it makes the curly man roll his eyes.
"It won't bite you, Jesus. Especially this, your meat would do it if it was alive," he teases, continuing to stuff his own burger with extra lettuce and no ketchup but mustard.
"Fake meat?" the rich man asks again.
"Stop whining and try it, it tastes like the real one, plus you won't eat a poor animal."
Louis hesitantly bites into the meal, slowly chewing it in his mouth. The taste is fine, all of the ingredients complimenting each other on his tongue. And Harry was right, it is almost as if he was eating meat. Almost.
"Nice," he squirms on the bar chair with a full mouth, his once hollow cheeks like a hamster now.
Harry's face creates a cheeky smile, looking from behind his eyelashes at how Louis is munching on the food. He feels content to see Louis content, "I told you it's good."
"Do you have more?"
"No? I thought one would be enough. Do you want more?"
"I am fucking hungry. Please?" the rich man pleads, biting into his burger.
"Have mine, I'll put the pickles in it," he sighs, and cut another pickle into circles, giving the burger to Louis, too. He walks to the fridge and takes out sweet cottage cheese and blueberries. While he is putting it in the bowl, Peanut comes into the kitchen after her nap, bouncing her head into Harry's calf to notify him she is there and hungry, too.
"Hey miss girl," Harry bends down, taking her into his arms and petting her soft soft fur, "I had to wash her again."
"Why?"
"She was jumping around the tree and the decoration, she was all glitters and sparkles," the curly man explains, taking out the cat's food from the cupboard and opening the can while the small animal is steadily holding itself on his broad arm; watching the can being opened.
Harry puts her down onto the ground, but she is so excited, smelling the food that he can't normally walk up to the bowls without the cat being around his feet and hindering, "Peanut, c'mon."
"I mean, you must have been all glitter, too. Eleanor was when she set the tree up," Louis points out and Harry hums in agreement.
"I was."
"You must have looked sparkly cute."
"Stop it."
"I bet you must have."
"Eat the damn burgers, Tomlinson."
___
"So, what do you want to listen?" Louis wonders, opening the cupboard under the bar.
They sit in the fireplace room, dim light and fake fire lighting the room delicately. The night fell upon the city. It's lightly snowing, and Harry is wondering if the city is genuinely alright. It's been days of snowing, and Central Park must be absorbed in the white blanket. Are the streets working? Are they collapsing?
Harry doesn't know. They are up here on the top, alone, almost touching the sky. They can't see down there, how all the humans live. It's only them, their Peanut and a bunch of vinyls Louis is going through right now.
"What do you really have?" Harry settles his wine glass down on the table carefully, standing up and walking to the bar. He crouches down, stroking Louis' spine in the process and scans the titles to get an idea of what genres Louis owns.
He is surprised to see mostly old music, the 70s and 80s, apart from a small collection of new music - probably Louis' clients and friend's music, because he can see Little Mix, Taylor Swift, or Zayn's albums, too.
"Just some stuff here and there. Look this one is the original from the release," Louis takes out Pink Floyd album Dark Side of the Moon, showing it to Harry proudly. The corners of the cover are beaten up, scratches all over and the colour is quite fade out, but Harry looks at it just as if it was a brand new item.
"Is it?"
"Yeah, I found it on the internet, bought in 1973. The man who sold it to me told me he was like 16 when the record came out and he apparently sneaked out of the house early in the morning to get it! Nuts! He was saving the cash for months to buy it. And he said he was lucky to get it, there were only like 10 copies and he snatched it," the rich man talks enthusiastically about the item, impressing Harry with this little story, it is so cool.
"Why would they sell it, I would never!"
"I asked that, actually! Was a nice man, a proper one, a little old. He said he doesn't want to own it since he was not playing it anymore and he doesn't have any kids. And then I asked him what else did he get, so I snatched a few ABBA records, too. It's old but it plays just good."
"That's awesome," Harry's eyes are wide, and Louis could literally see the sparks in them. They are glowing.
"I also got one original of The Rolling Stones and Queen," Louis shows off some more, taking the covers out and handing it to the curly man.
"Fucking jealous," Harry breaths out, looking at the vinyl covers. He is delicately holding it as if they were literal infants in his hands. It's sick he is holding records that are way older than him.
"Do you want to listen to them?" the rich man asks after a little while, letting Harry be excited about the items. He is feeling warm to see he was able to impress Harry somehow. His heart is bursting with appreciation and love when he sees the faint smile on Harry's face and happiness radiating through his eyes. What a small, almost meaningless thing, but making his soulmate so happy.
He wasn't thinking much about the way that the records are original, it was just to show off and for the collection purpose. He bought it just because he thought it'd be cool to show off and impress visitor's from time to time if he and Eleanor had some. But now, he knows it was the best decision to buy those albums, because seeing Harry's face glowing like that, it's worth everything.
"Louis, just imagine what these records went through, they literally carry a soul," Harry observes, but carefully putting them back where they belong, "You've got almost every Fleetwood Mac vinyl, even a few compilations, that's fucking awesome."
"Is it?"
"Of course, can we listen to Tango in the Night? I love this album, so much," Harry takes out the said record, handing it to the rich man with a pleading smile.
"Eleanor likes this record, even though she is not into old songs at all. But when Penelope started to perceive her surrounding and react to sounds and moves, she liked to squirm on the blanket when I put the album on," Louis rambles, setting up the record player.
"It must have been so cute!" Harry exclaims, getting back to the couch, petting the napping cat softly and flopping down to get comfortable.
"It was. Penelope is adorable. Wanna see? I have a photo album upstairs!" Louis smiles widely, and who is Harry to say no. It's evident the man is happy to talk about his daughter and show pictures and share some stories. And if that's what it takes to make Louis happy, so be it.
And also, Harry is excited to see more from Louis' life. To catch up and get to know him again, and a little better.
"Yes, please. I wanna see," he nods, sipping on his red wine. Louis starts the vinyl, the melody of the first song on the album lowly playing in the background, and the rich man is quickly out of the room, climbing the stairs to get the photos. Harry waits patiently, looking down next to his left thigh where his pet sleeps soundly. He scratches her belly until Louis comes back with a light pink book in his hands.
"See, this is my book," Louis says, sitting next to Harry. Today, Louis decided not to drink any alcohol, though he did offer Harry some. And after some persuading, Louis was able to give Harry some wine Eleanor had in stock.
"Yours?"
"Yeah, Eleanor and I have our own books with Penelope."
"That's... weird?"
"I don't know. Now when I think about it, it's better. I get to have my photos and she gets to have hers," he shrugs and opens the cover, revealing the first page where Harry can see the main facts about the child - name, date and hour of birth, sign, first weight and length and so on.
"Ah, she is close to my birthday!" Harry exclaims excitedly.
"Really? What's your birthday, then?"
"First February," Harry answers and sips his wine.
"You are just a week apart," Louis smiles, "same signs, too."
"Yes," he nods, "I like the full name, Penelope Jade Tomlinson, it's unique."
"Eleanor chose the first name, and I did the second," Louis informs, looking into Harry's forest green eyes.
"I like it."
"Hm," Louis turns the page, the first pictures on display for Harry to finally see Louis' daughter and how she looks like.
"This was just a few days after she was born, she just came home," Louis softly points out the first picture, smiling ever so faintly and lovingly that it actually makes Harry sad. If he could, he would find Eleanor, take the kid and return back here just to give her to Louis.
"But she was quite a character, she loved to cry at night all the damn time."
"That's what kids do, Louis," the curly man chuckles and looks to his left because suddenly his kid is awake, done napping and ready to cuddle between the two men. Harry lets her crawl his lap, clumsily manoeuvring around and curiously sniffing Louis' closest hand and book.
"But she was constantly crying. it was like she was doing it on purpose. Throughout the day she was the little angel, smiling and giggling, napping and being all cute in front of whoever came to visit us, and then, oh God, the night time came and she cried and cried. I had a lot of work and it was so hard to be awake at night and work during the days."
"I think you didn't push her out of your body, so I think it wasn't that hard, Louis," Harry remarks.
"Oh, give me a break, will you?"
"I like this picture," Harry points out.
"Thanks. I'm proud to say she is a daddy's girl, honestly. I was away a lot, but when I was around, Penelope and I were inseparable."
Harry silently coo's, he is honestly loving the pictures and seeing how Louis is actually so adorable around his daughter. It's like he is looking at a totally different person, much softer, much more collected.
"Oh, shoot. She doesn't have your eyes. Shame," Harry comments.
"Maybe my next one will have eyes after me," the rich man shrugs.
"Do you want more kids?"
"Yeah, I guess so. Would be nice, I think."
They look at more pictures.
"She is so adorable, how does she always smile?" the curly man wonders.
"Eleanor always made a face that made Penelope giggle all the time. Honest to God, Eleanor is the best mother for Penelope."
"You are the best father for Penelope," Harry adds, stroking Louis' thigh softly with his free hand.
"As if," Louis scoffs and turns the page.
"See, look at these pictures. I bet she was always happy to be with you. Oh my God! I love this," Harry points the picture on the new page.
"This is actually in my London home when we visited the UK. Sometimes Penelope and I had bath time together. And El was either doing her night skin routine or she was just around and we were talking or playing with our baby. Those moments were nice," the rich man sighs and Harry can see he is deep in his thoughts, probably reminiscing about the past and time when he was able to do this all.
"Do you still have a home in the UK?"
"I do, yes. Liam is living there, right now."
"Why you two don't talk?" Harry can't help and ask. The man in front of him looks in a good mood, either it is the music playing in the room or talking about his daughter, or even maybe it's because of Harry himself, so why not ask about it now.
"Well... Liam and El are actually really close, he basically is treating El like his younger sister. And I was a dick. You know, I was confused and sometimes I missed my life before marriage. I was too dumb to disappear for weekends and cause some scandals here and there. Liam didn't like it, at all. First, he tried to put some sense into my head, he was telling me I have a good wife and healthy child at home, but... I was dumb. So he stopped talking to me, but he remained to talk to Eleanor, though. I wouldn't be surprised if she is in my London home with Liam."
"You don't know where Eleanor and Penelope are?"
"Um... Not specifically. I know they are in the UK for sure. But El may be at her parent's or at Liam's."
"Don't you wanna know where is your daughter exactly?" Harry frowns.
"I do. Eleanor won't tell. See, her father is the most popular and good lawyer, and I bet he suggested this move because... the court allowed her to be hidden from me. She filled out I am an alcoholic, and always drunk and dangerous for Penelope," Louis explains, his eyes slightly teary and it makes Harry's poor heart sink. Louis doesn't deserve this.
"I'm sorry," the curly man moves closer to the rich man, putting his wine glass away and snaking his hand around Louis' waist softly and leaning his head onto his shoulder. Harry's wild curls tickle Louis' neck and chin, making him calm down a little.
The situation right now could be even worse - he could be in this apartment alone, without Harry nor Peanut. He has a furry little animal occupying his lap. He has Harry clinging to him now. He is somewhat still good.
"She will be an artist, look," Louis points out another picture of himself and his daughter.
"Her small hands," Harry coo's again.
"Oh my God, imagine you holding her hand. You've got huge hands, bigger than mine," Louis chuckles. The curly man lifts his hand in front of their faces, examining it. He's got his rings on, fingers slender and long, palm indeed big.
They are looking at the palm until Louis also lifts his hand and covers Harry's palm against his. Louis' hand covers only three-quarters of Harry's hand, just proving how the curly man's hands are indeed too big.
"You are a giant."
"Or you are just too tiny," Harry replies cheekily.
"Oi, am not!" he frowns but slides his fingers in between Harry's, intertwining their hands. He takes it to his face and kisses Harry knuckles softly, "I missed you."
"I missed you, too," Harry whispers, his heart fluttering in his chest. Fleetwood Mac album still playing in the room, filling the quietness of the place ever so softly. He leans to Louis even more, glueing himself to his side.
Their hands fall down near Peanuts body, and they continue to turn pages of the pink book.