City lights coruscate as the pair continues the drive with tied tongues and screaming hearts. The music fills in the curious silence while Louis steals a few hesitant peeks from the still-fiddling boy. A thunder of questions arise within him because of the boy's unusual silence and he can't help but want to scream.
"Speak," Louis finally orders, the boy's stillness almost scratching his skin raw. Harry looks up, brows furrowed, mouth gaping and ambivalent. Oh, now he's silent?
"Hi?" He tries, giving Louis a nervous smile and blinking violently. Harry looks like one of those quiet students—the ones who sit at the end of the class and talk to no one—and Louis is that one annoying teacher who likes to pester him, make him speak out loud while the entire class watches him.
"What has gotten into you? Why are you so quiet? Is it me? Should I have taken the other car? Oh god! It's because of that isn't it-"Louis' rambling comes to an abrupt halt when he hears Harry giggle, the sound almost like hint of life to the soul-sucking hush.
"What?" Louis finds himself questioning before hopelessly breaking into a face-slicing grin in a jiffy when the sweet melody of Harry's giggle continues to serenade the car.
"I've never heard you speak so much at once," Harry humorously admits after a juicy moment of entertaining Louis with his ability to giggle without a pause. "Hey! You were the one being all silent and irritating. I had to, there was no other way," Louis defends in a dramatic delivery, eyeing the younger with venom eyes. Harry gives him a look between amused and disbelieving, either way, his smile does not falter.
"I thought you did not like it when I talk too much." There is a hint of taunt present in Harry's voice as he wiggles his eyebrows in a comical manner, almost accusing Louis of lying. "I do, but that doesn't mean you'll pull a Quiet Place on me," Louis replies defensively, shifting his eyes on the road again. If he was a lawyer, he'd still be swimming in money.
"I did nothing of that sort! I was just—I was just enjoying the view," Harry stammers, traces of uncertainty clearly visible and his vigorous leg shaking adds up to Louis' suspicions. "Oh really? Enjoying looking at the same city you've lived in all your life? Totally believable, love," Louis marks in a teasing tone, riling the younger further. His gaze shifts for a split second, Harry's lip getting butchered again and big green eyes shining with unease.
"Just drive the car, Tomlinson."
Harry slumps down like he's lost a bet, embarrassed pout evident on his plump lips and Louis couldn't ask for more.
*
"You do plan on treating me, right?" Louis asks as they walk together on the footpath, the city howling with cars and bright flashes blinding them every once in a while. "I do, just—trust me, okay?" Harry asks with a crease gracing his face, leading the pair to the destination he has in mind. Louis nods and let's the younger guide them, it's not like he fears getting killed by him in a dark alley.
"Here we are!"
The excited voice calls out an admiring Louis, his eyes shifting away from the younger to drink in the sight of numerous food trucks lined up in front with showy lighting and tacky signs. The entire alley screams life, clusters of people floating in their own world, their loud chatter adding a settling sense of chaos, none heeding to the fact that The Louis Tomlinson is there; for them, he is just a random stranger. Harry on the other hand brightens up at the sight, the lights dulling a bit in front of him.
"What do you want to have first?" Harry asks while Louis protectively wraps an arm around his waist as they approach the swarm of people.
"I don't know, surprise me,"
Louis let's the younger direct them, wanting to let Harry lead the night as he wants. A blast of different smells hit Louis, each truck having a different aroma, a different style and a different stripe of people. They pass through a variety of trucks; French, German, American and finally stop in front of a Cantonese. The truck is painted in a flashy red, signature dragon tattooed proudly on the front and gold tinted lanterns hanging low with kitchen steam pouring out, making the entire vibe more indigenous.
"Do you have a problem with fish?" Harry asks softly, leaning into Louis when a group of rowdy teenagers try to enter his personal space. "I don't," Louis answers, eyes fixed on the wild bunch and hands tightening around Harry. Harry orders for the two, while Louis continues eye-shooting the group, one of the boys finally cowering away under Louis' excruciating gaze.
No one fucks with Louis Tomlinson.
"It looks like shit."
Is the first thing Louis says once Harry places their food on the small table provided by the truck. "It's a dim sum!" Harry protests, eyeing the diaper looking thing with apology. "It looks like mini diapers filled with shit then," Louis says, again, and watches as Harry bites into one, the stuffing-juice rolling down from his lips to his chin before he wipes it with his thumb.
"Eat!" Harry whines, noticing Louis simply staring instead of eating the thing. Louis clears his throat when caught, rubbing his nose with his thumb and mentally preparing himself for the diaper looking thing.
Fuck Harry Styles and his weird food choices.
*
Turns out the Cantonese shrimp dim sum also know as Har Gow—Louis totally didn't ask—wasn't half as bad. It was very flavourful, to be precise.
Louis ended up ordering another plate.
That encouraged Harry more than expected as the next thing Louis knows is, they are tasting the oddest things on the food truck's menu. Till now Louis has had Foie gras—a French duck liver delicacy, Saumagen— a German pork stomach dish and finally they decide to share a fried cheese cake from the American truck together.
All in all, most of the dishes were not as appetising as the dim sums, but the look of ardour on Harry's lovely face was enough for Louis to just push down the food. At least the cheesecake was worth it, even if he let Harry have more than half of it.
No one needs to know.
Currently, they are walking inside the almost empty Longbottom's park, the pathway damp due to England's weather and minimal yellow-tinted lights creating a dissimilar atmosphere than the loud food truck alley. The moon peeks through the angry clouds as the thin rain bids its farewell, the tall silver birch welcoming the pair with dripping leaves and the city howls seem to fade for the two as they walk closely.
"Thank you for the lovely treat, Harold." Louis says tilting his head up and examining the tall trees, that have probably stood there longer than most of the people in London, hands stuffed dearly in his pockets to avoid the unforgiving morgue-ish early-winter cold.
"Mention that."
Harry grins cheekily, dimples and all, playing footie with a pebble and intentionally hitting Louis with it, pretending he didn't the next second. "Minx," Louis mutters, kicking the pebble back at Harry who jumps a little in defence, giving Louis a Cheshire cat smile.
"The night isn't over." Harry speaks up out of the blue, hands reaching for Louis' as he yanks the older towards a candy floss stall. "You'll be hearing from my dentist," Louis jokes as Harry eyes the candy with pure hunger—as if he didn't just eat half the food truck's junk.
"Come on!" Harry whines when Louis doesn't budge. Fuck no, here comes the puppy eyes.
"It's simple sugar! What happened to healthy Harry?" Louis asks as he mentally calculates the amount of calories—too many, he sucks at calculating. "Don't be like that, I'm paying for yours too, enjoy it, Mr. Tomlinson." Harry says in a child-like melody and pulls the puppy-eyes card along with a pouty pair of lips when Louis seems to not buy it.
"Alright, you man child, go ahead." Louis gives up and watches as Harry practically sprints towards the candy stall.
Louis sneaks a few drags, filling himself with the much needed smoke while Harry gets them their candy floss. The sublime aura of the park and the chirping bugs feel like a proper addition to the ending night. He pops in a mints before heading back to the place he left Harry in, only to find him standing there with only one floss.
"Did ya finish yours already?" Louis questions in disbelief when Harry offers the sugar cloud to Louis. Harry shrugs and kicks off a pebble, hands finding its way deep inside his pockets. He watches Harry tilt his head towards the sky, sculptured jaw on display and a straw drop of rain falling on his skin from one of the wicked leaves above.
"I bought two," a sigh leaves his chest, tips of his lips forming a halfhearted, small smile, "but the kid on the bench looked hungry, so I gave him mine," Harry shrugs as if it was no big deal, as if he wasn't all giddy about a mere cloud of candy moments ago.
"You couldn't've bought another one?"
"I thought that too, but the stall was closed by the time I walked back, I was their last costumer." Harry shrugs again, kicking the pebble into the pond, a splash of water ringing through the chilly air.
"You are too kind for this world, Harold, don't let them misuse you."
Louis pokes his fedora as the younger gives him a half smile, a smile nonetheless. Louis wants to wrap him away, keep him close and away—so far away from the grey world.
"Wanna share?" Louis asks once they find themselves sitting on the pond facing bench, yellow lamps reflecting in the still water and the distant city hustle reminding them that they aren't the only people in the world. "You don't have to," Harry says but Louis can just sense the underlying want in his tone.
Man child.
"I don't mind."
Louis holds the floss stick between the two and watches as the light comes back to the emeralds and rose lips curve into a smile, a full smile.
"You'll get a sugar rush!" Louis exclaims after Harry devours the floss like there's no tomorrow while Louis eats his part more....subtly.
"Who cares?" Harry smiles like he has no care in the world, crinkled eyes fixed on sapphire blues and lips spread in a grand smile, his teeth carrying a pink touch from the sweet. Louis just stares back, drowning in the shining emeralds, his portion candy floss mid-air.
"Who cares." Louis repeats and watches those emeralds shine brighter; he did not know that was even possible.
"Let's go, Niall will have my head if you are late." Louis says after checking his phone while Harry pouts. "Louis Tomlinson isn't scared of anyone." Harry mocks him in a comical tone with air quotations, but stands up anyway. They make their way out of the park, waving at the kid whom Harry had given his candy to and finally exiting through the iron gate.
They walk together on the footpath, heading back to where Louis has parked his car, both of them carrying a silent smile on their lips and soaking each other in a warm silence. And for a moment Louis dares to battle the thought of lacing their fingers together-
"Hey, princess,"
The slur drowned voice calls out just as the duo reaches the car, the sound of a skin slap followed by Harry's shriek makes its way to Louis' ears. Louis freezes, eyes turning red when a shadowy figure gropes Harry from behind, the lingering smell of cheap alcohol fills around them while Harry tries to pry himself off the drunken man.
Louis doesn't remember what happens, but the next thing he knows is that the stranger is pinned to the fence while Louis chokes the life out of him. He doesn't hear Harry's pleads, doesn't see the cry for mercy in the man's eyes, all he sees is the incident replaying in front of him and all he hears is Harry's shriek.
"Louis stop!" Harry cries out hugging Louis, tightly clutching his jacket until his knuckles turn white and burying his face into his neck, hoping that somehow his death grip will calm Louis and it does. Louis stops, the only thing racing in his head are the cries Harry lets out into his neck and he can't stop himself from cradling him in his arms.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Louis chants like a prayer and runs a hand through Harry's naked curls, the fedora long lost. "Please don't hurt him," Harry cries out again and hugs Louis tighter, somehow afraid that if he lets loose, Louis will pounce on the man again.
"Shhhh, I am sorry. I won't hurt him, I promise. Calm down, love." Louis repeats the words until Harry's cries break down to mere sniffles and his grip loosens. Louis waits until the clutch on his jacket loosens, until the beautiful boy in his arms calms down. He doesn't care if they are in the middle of the fucking road.
All Louis Tomlinson wants is for Harry Styles to fucking smile and never cry in his entire fucking life.
*
"I'm sorry." Harry says in a pitch higher ten minutes into the ride, traces of tears still left in his eyes and nose stuffy because of the cruel encounter. He looks small, protective arms hugging himself, sitting straight—unlike his usually 'knees spread as much as he can' way. His face is contoured in fear—fear that the man might show up again, touch him again.
"What are you sorry for? In no way was it your fault. I don't get why you didn't let me beat the piece of shit. Bloody fucker," Louis spits, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles are washed white. He breathes in, not wanting to trigger an episode. "What if he has a family waiting? What if he's the only source of happiness for someone? It was a small mistake, no one was harmed." Harry reasons in a small tone, wanting for Louis to understand him. But Louis doesn't want to.
"What if I wasn't there? Then what, Harry? What if something happened? Something bad-" Louis inhales sharply at the thought, anger creeping up and he grips the steering wheel even tighter. "Nothing happened, Lou. 'M fine." Harry says softly while a shaky hand makes it way to Louis', loosening his merciless grip and intertwining them together as a silent reassurance.
They continue the ride together, not exchanging a single word in between. Harry doesn't let go of Louis' hand and Louis doesn't make an attempt to retrieve it. Both of them continue in silence while their touch exchanges a thousand words.
"Good night," Harry says once Louis parks the car in front of his house, hand finally letting go of Louis' to open the door.
"Wait," Louis speaks up before Harry can step out, opening his own door and rushing to Harry's side. He walks him to his door, paranoia screaming within him, every rustle of the bushes feeling like another drunk fucker ready to touch his Harry.
"Thank you for the treat," Louis finally says just as Harry is about to fish out his keys, making the younger smile.
Nothing can stop Harry Styles from smiling.
"Thank you for standing up for me and not beating the man to death." Harry speaks while unlocking the door. He turns back and gives Louis another soft smile, green eyes fixed on blue as the curly-haired lad leans forward, placing a sweet kiss on the older's cheek and running inside the house for dear life before Louis can even catch his breath.
What the fuck?
~~~
Thoughts?
How was Larry's dat- oops! Treat I mean?