The noise of glass shattering on the floor, accompanied by a few curse words muttered under breath pull Harry from his dreams and he slowly opens his eyes.
The bedroom blinds are still closed and Harry turns around, finding the space next to him on the mattress empty. The covers are hunched up and Harry slowly sits up, running a hand through his hair and over his eyes as he gets more and more into awake-mode. It's cold, in the bedroom. The window is closed, but since its fucking freezing outside, the room still got cold inside. Harry only reluctantly peels himself out of the covers, but the clattering noises downstairs keep going, so he has to save what's left of their kitchen stuff.
As he slowly pads down the staircase, the smell of something brunt coming from the kitchen, he wraps his blanket tighter around himself, the hem dragging down the stairs behind him, but Harry cleaned the floor yesterday, so it's fine. Harry smiles slowly, shaking his head more to himself as he hears the significant sound of mugs being placed on the mirror smooth surfaces. As he rounds the corner and leans against the wall, he looks at him, how he moves around in the kitchen, small swear words leaving his mouth because the entire scene is completely out of control.
"Morning" Harry says, amusement clear in his voice.
Francis whips around, his hand stilling where he lifted the kettle to pour steaming water into the mugs. He sighs, shoulders slumping defeat, because Harry now saw this mess. He sets the kettle back down and walks towards him, planting a quick kiss onto his lips, arms winding around Harry's middle.
"Morning sweetheart" He mumbles, hands slowly stroking the small of Harry's back. "I'm sorry" He kisses him again, always talking in-between little pecks on his lips. "I wanted to make you breakfast"
Harry chuckles and moves away, walking towards the burnt toast on two plates, peanut butter jelly on them. "Thanks babe" He mumbles, takes one of the plates and a mug before he sits down at the kitchen island, watching his fiancé move around the kitchen once more. He doesn't think he can eat that, but he'll try and see if he dies after the first bite.
"I'm sorry for last night" Francis says when he joins him with his own breakfast. "Spontaneous business meeting. I promise it won't happen again"
Harry only smiles and shakes his head, signalising him it's fine. He was disappointed, and it did in fact happen before, but it's not like that was Francis' fault. His boss thinks he's always available, apparently didn't get the whole aspect of private life yet, and Francis is too proud to ever deny him anything. Harry has met his boss in person twice, and he's an intimidating man. Francis won his trust almost immediately, and he's doing everything that needs to be done to stay on top of the firm hierarchy. Harry is proud of him, of course, just sometimes it comes in the wrong moments, for example when he had a whole dinner cooked and gets rejected the last second.
"Don't worry" He mumbles, taking a sip from his mediocre tea because he needs a few more seconds to build up the courage to bite into the toast.
"Thank you for being so understanding" Francis smiles and Harry only shrugs.
He doesn't have much of a choice, is the thing. It's not like Francis asked him if he wants him home or if he could go to the meeting, he only said he wouldn't make it. There was absolutely no room for Harry to disagree, so he's not really "being understanding". He would have been mad, even, because it would have been a waste of food, if Louis hadn't come over.
Speaking of Louis, the traces of him are still around the kitchen, so Harry knows it wasn't just a dream, or something he hallucinated because of utter loneliness. No, Louis Tomlinson actually stood in front of his door last night.
"Did you have someone over?" Francis asks, speaking of the devil, and glances at the sink, plates and cutlery for two in it, along with two empty beer bottles.
"Uh, yeah" Harry says, clearing his throat. He briefly considers lying about who exactly it was, because maybe in the moment it would be better, but he thinks in the end it will probably only cause unnecessary drama. Above all, he's not a liar. "An old friend. Louis Tomlinson"
Harry points at one of the pictures in the living room, one of him with his family, Louis right next to him since he had been very much a part of said family. In the picture, Louis has one arm around Harry's shoulders and a football at his feet, because he, Harry and their dads had just been playing, when Jay decided it would be time for a Styles family picture and dragged Harry's mum over. It's Harry's favourite picture, because even though he and Louis are dirty with mud from playing enthusiastically, they beam like the sun, wide smiles on their faces. They were sixteen at that time.
The name seems to ring some bells for Francis, since Harry has been mentioning him a lot whilst taking about his childhood and family (Louis had been a huge part of that after all), and he nods. "How come he stopped by? Didn't you say he was traveling?"
"Oh, he moved in next door" Harry explains, looking down at his toast. He finally lifts it up and takes a bite, and only hardly conceals his grimace.
"The haunted house?" Francis asks and Harry chuckles, since that's an old inside joke, before he nods. Francis raises his eyebrows and clicks his tongue. "Well, good luck making that thing liveable"
Harry doesn't say anything to that, just hums and takes a large gulp from his tea. It does seem like a struggle, yes, with what Louis has mentioned last night, but the lad has always been good with crafts and physical work, so Harry is sure he'll do fine.
Francis checks his new smart watch, tapping with his index finger onto the display several times, before he lets out a curse and gets up. Harry already knew he would leave quickly, already dressed in a suit and tie. "I have to go, Spencer just texted me we have a morning call" He gets up, half eaten most left on his place and rounds the kitchen island to give Harry another quick kiss. "I'll be back tonight for dinner"
Harry smiles and nods, pulling him in for another kiss. He keeps him where he is with a strong grip on his shoulders, and licks along his bottom lip. It's been a while since he's gotten some, sue him.
Francis chuckles and pulls away. "I really have to go sweetheart"
Harry pouts, gets a kiss on the forehead and then Francis is gone.
"Maybe we can go out for dinner tonight" He calls from the hallway, putting on his shoes. Harry walks into the open doorway and leans against the wall with his legs crossed over one another. "Some nice restaurant with candles and wine" Francis says, opening the door and grabbing his bag.
"Sounds good" Harry agrees with a smile and leans up for another quick goodbye kiss. He watches as his fiancé gets into his car, leaning against the doorframe while he watches him speed off, down the road. Harry smiles as he closes the door, the feeling of his lips touching Harry's still lingering.
He walks into the kitchen, turns on the radio, the room immediately filled with soft music, as he sighs and starts cleaning up the mess Francis left during his terrible attempt of making breakfast. Harry has always been the one to do the cooking, Francis doesn't know shit about the kitchen. When they bought the house, Francis made almost all the decisions, but he gave control over to Harry when it came to the kitchen, since it was already established he would be the one to mainly use it.
Francis is five years older, and he already had a full time job and all, when they started dating. That kind of stuck around, Harry never looked out for jobs since they don't need extra money. He doesn't think about that often though, it always causes him a mini crisis, because, really. He's twenty-four and literally settled down with a twenty-nine year old who pays for everything and gets dinner and a clean house in return.
Sighing, Harry starts with putting the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, then placing the peanut butter and jelly back where they belong and cleaning the countertops until you can basically see your own reflection in the marble again. Then he grabs the empty beer bottles and puts them away.
Last night with Louis ended just abruptly as it began. After mentioning Harry is not only in a relationship but engaged, everything was awkward. He thought it was obvious from the beginning, he has a ring on his finger and someone else's name on the doorbell. But then again, he's wearing many rings, the one with the small diamond is not that obvious to spot, when every finger is decorated with silver and gold.
Louis had tensed up, Harry didn't really think he had a reason to. They hadn't seen each other in ages, of course Harry's life is not what it was back then anymore. He is happily engaged, he is going to marry Francis next spring. Until yesterday night, Louis wasn't a part of his life anymore.
Still, Louis' shoulders tensed as soon as the word 'Fiancé' left Harry's mouth and they finished eating, before Louis excused himself, saying he needed to set up his place to sleep before midnight, since he was tired. Harry offered that he could stay over, sleep in the guest bedroom, since Louis said the heating was broken and, being late November, that would get quite cold without a real bed. Louis kindly refused, though, and then left just as quickly as he came.
Harry had watched him walk over the small grass on their front yard towards his own porch, carefully climb up the mouldy stairs and then unlocking the door. "If you need anything the next days while fixing all that, please feel free to just come over" Harry had whisper-yelled over to him.
"Thanks, Harry. I appreciate that" Louis had returned, and after a quick "Good night" Closed the door, leaving Harry slightly dumbfounded in his own house.
He had settled down on the couch and put on some trash tv, treated himself to some ice cream while his mind totally did not focus on the show on the tv, but instead ran in circles around Louis Tomlinson. Eventually, he gave up, too tired and his brain too exhausted to clean the kitchen, and he just left everything the way it was and made his way up to the bedroom. He fell asleep before Francis came home.
Now that he thinks about it, it's actually been a while since he and Francis... did stuff. Couple things. Going out, dating, flirting, dancing, touching... All that.
Harry slowly chews on the inside of his cheek and looks up the stairs, debating whether or not he should go upstairs and have some 'alone time', since the house is clean and he has nothing else to do, but decides against it. Francis said they'll go out tonight, maybe they can find some time after that. He would like that. Of course, they're not horny teenagers, they don't need to be all over each other as soon as one walks into the room, but it's been weeks and Harry just wants to have him all to himself. Slowly, to drag it out. Relaxing pleasure, maybe.
Harry walks into the living room, eyes scanning over the garden he can see through the windows that take up the entirety of one wall, but the garden is spotless as well, nothing needs to be done. Harry sighs and moves to fold the blanket that still lays messily over the edge of the couch, when he sees through the corner of his eyes as a football flies over the fence. That one fence at the very end of the garden that is connected to the house across his, with the twin boys. Harry smiles and slides the glass door open, walking out onto the lawn and taking the football into his hands.
Soon enough, there is a boy's head peaking over the fence, Harry supposes his brother is holding him up so that he can see over the edge. "Sorry Mr Styles" he says sheepishly and Harry only smiles.
"No worries" he says warmly and walks over to the fence, handing the boy his football back.
After he thanked him and there are yells from inside the house, their mother yelling at them to be careful with the football, Harry only shakes his head with a smile and turns back around, eyes immediately going over to the garden that's attached to his own, on the left side of the house.
There is Louis, sitting on the wooden steps of the porch, that apparently goes around his whole house, craft tools sprawled out around him and a hammer in his hand.
There is no fence separating these two gardens, since nobody has lived in that house in forever, and they never felt the need to get one, so Harry feels free to just walk towards Louis.
"Hi" He puts his hands on the pockets of his jeans, the wind quite cold in his hair and around his ears.
Louis seems to have already seen him because he doesn't look surprised, only smiles up at him slightly, hammer stilling. "Morning"
There's a thin layer of sweat across his hairline, and on his neck, the material of the old looking crewneck he wears slightly darker around the collar. The sleeves are rolled up towards his elbow, despite the low temperature, and his hair is in a half bun, strands falling out into his forehead. He smells like work and sweat and Louis.
Somehow, Harry feels like deciding against a quick masturbation session was a terrible idea. Louis' eyes are very blue right now. He doesn't know what he's thinking, and this is wrong on many levels, so he just snaps himself out of it.
He clears his throat, mostly to collect himself, and turns his head away, squinting at the cloudy sky.
"Do you want me to make you something for breakfast?" He asks and then only realises how weird that sounds, so he's quick to correct himself. "I mean, if you didn't have some already. With your stove being broken and all"
"Oh" Louis says and smiles again, wiping at his forehead with his sleeve. "That would be amazing, actually, thanks"
Harry smiles as well, nodding and turning towards his house, before he looks back at Louis once more. "I can bring you some, but it's quite cold" He hesitates. "So you're welcome to eat inside, if you want to"
"Actually," Louis says, puts the hammer away and gets up. "Is it okay if I shower at yours quickly? I haven't fixed the warm water yet and I'd rather not die of hyperthermia..."
Harry laughs at his dramatics, it's always been one of Louis' best qualities, and shakes his head quickly. "Oh no, that's fine, don't worry"
Louis nods and disappears inside his own house, Harry walking back into the kitchen and starting on some eggs, until Louis hesitantly walks through the glass doors, a pile of fresh clothes in his hands. Harry shows him the guest room bathroom, hands him some soft towels and then closes the door after himself, walking back into the kitchen to finish breakfast.
And 'finishing breakfast' means he stands frozen, one hand on the open door of the fridge for a few minutes, staring at the cheese and butter and trying to comprehend several things.
First of all, Louis Tomlinson is naked in his shower right now.
Second of all, his house is completely not liveable and will take ages if Louis plans on fixing everything on his own.
Third of all, everything is awkward at the moment. They have been so close since literal primary school, Harry went on vacation with Louis' family several times, Louis stayed at Harry's house for days in a row, and the other way around. They were literally attached at the hip, teachers didn't know them as Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson, but as HarryandLouis. He's showered at Louis' before, Louis has showered at Harry's before. It shouldn't be that awkward. It shouldn't be weird, finding out the best friend you ever had moved in right next door. They shouldn't be tiptoeing around each other. They should catch up on everything they missed.
Harry doesn't know what's in the way. Well, maybe he does. Maybe it's the reason that made Louis tense up last night. Maybe...
The sound of a door closing rips Harry out of his thoughts and Harry sharply zones back into reality, turning towards the stove and concentrating back on the eggs in the pan, when Louis walks in, smelling fresh and clean, hair dripping onto the new sweater he wears. Harry slightly smiles at him, he doesn't really know where exactly they stand but he supposes since Louis accepted his offer, they're on good terms. They're fine. Not like they would have any reason not to be, really, but just. It's obvious that it's going to stay awkward for some time, giving the circumstances.
They sit together at the kitchen island once more, Harry only eating a bit since he had breakfast with Francis this morning. So he mostly takes up the role of talking, telling Louis about his family, how they're doing.
He tells him that his parents divorced and his mum is happier than ever with Robin, her new husband. He tells Louis about Gemma's photography job in Manchester and her boyfriend Michal, and that their cat Dusty is very old but still living in his mum's house.
Louis listens, smiling at some small details that remind both of them of their childhood.
When he's finished eating, he thanks him generously for breakfast, and Harry smiles widely as he moves to clean everything up again, while Louis stands up and walks around for the first time really. Harry joins him in the living room, where Louis stands in front of the picture wall and eyes the photographs.
Harry notices how his eyes linger on the ones of Harry alone, Harry with friends or Harry on vacation and silly selfies of Harry and Gemma. He skips over pictures of Francis rather quickly, and doesn't even look at pictures of Harry and Francis together. Eventually, he stops at the picture from eight years ago, of Louis and Harry looking carelessly happy with Harry's family around them.
Harry looks at Louis sideways while Louis' gaze is locked on that particular photograph, until he smiles and wordlessly walks away, towards the garden.
Harry wonders what that's supposed to mean, while he follows him and watches how Louis sits down on the doorstep that leads outside, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Harry panics for a second, because Francis hates smoke, so he decides its best if he just steps outside as well, and slides the door close behind them, so that no smoke gets inside. He won't forbid Louis to have a cigarette.
"Didn't know you started smoking" He says, pulling his legs up and resting his arms on his knees.
Louis shrugs, not looking at him. "Started a few years ago. Basically right after you-" He cuts himself off and takes another drag, staring at the floor in front of him.
Harry turns his head towards him and watches Louis swallow, exhaling the smoke onto his legs, playing with the cigarette between his fingers absentmindedly.
"Left"
Harry looks back down at that and scrunches his nose up. "I didn't... leave"
Louis has a somewhat bitter smile on his face and Harry wonders if this will be the time where they finally acknowledge that there is something else they can't possibly ignore. "We both left"
Now its Harry's turn to swallow. "Look, Louis, we agreed that it was better-"
He's cut off by the sound of his phone ringing.
Louis turns away immediately and Harry thinks it must be Francis, even though he doesn't normally call throughout the day. He just hopes he's not going to cancel on tonight, while he pulls his phone out of his pocket. It's not Francis.
"Oh, that's my mum" He says, smiling already. She's calling on FaceTime.
Louis turns his head back towards him, an unspoken question clear on his features. Do you want me to leave or are we telling her?
Harry doesn't directly answer that question, just doesn't say anything as he accepts the call and holds it away from his face.
"Hi mum" he smiles as soon as his mother's face appears on the screen.
"Hey darling" She greets him warmly, lowering the camera to show Dusty, the old, grey cat on her lap. Harry coos at her. "Are you busy?"
"No" Harry says and glances at Louis, who's still next to him, finishing his cigarette and getting up. Harry's eyes follow the movement and in that moment, the football comes flying over the fence once more. It happens several times a day, so it's no surprise.
"Who are you with?" Anne asks, her face suddenly very close to the camera, as if she would see more that way.
"Um" Harry swallows. "Louis"
His mother is quiet for a few seconds. "Louis?"
"Louis" Harry repeats, he doesn't know if Louis hears him and just ignores it, or if he's out of earshot now, where he walks over to the football.
"Tomlinson?"
"Yes" He confirms, looking back down at the phone.
"How- what- how come?"
"He moved in next door"
"Oh" his mum makes. Harry hates the silence. "Wow. That's news"
"Yep" Harry says, a crease forming between his eyebrows.
His mother sees it immediately, her voice softening. "How is it?"
"I don't know," Harry shrugs. "Awkward?"
"Oh honey" Anne sighs and Harry swallows hard. Somehow, her comforting him even though he's not even in need of comfort, makes him sad. There's a lump in his throat, suddenly. His fingers grip his phone so tightly his knuckles turn white and his mother smiles softly and sadly through the screen. "You know" She says after some time. "I always liked him more than Francis"
Harry's fingers hastily turn down the volume, he's panicking. What if Louis heard that?
"You were so happy" His mother goes on and Harry' shoulders just slump as he gives up trying to quiet her, and just looks up at Louis, who picks the football up with his foot and balances it on his knee.
"When he was your boyfriend"
There it is.
The fact that apparently both of them ignore. Louis and Harry weren't just friends. They dated for four bloody years, for crying out loud. They were proper together, everyone in their families thinking they would be the type of people to run away and get married before even getting into university. Just that that didn't happen.
"I am happy" Harry says, voice somewhat bitter. "With Francis. I am happy, mum"
"I know" His mother rushes to say. "Just..."
Harry's eyes follow Louis, who picks the football up with his hand and twirls it on his fingertip while he walks over to where the boys look over the fence again.
"You were happier with Louis. You weren't so tense, you laughed more"
"Well, mum" Harry snaps, anger rising. How can she talk like that? He's engaged, for gods sake. He's going to marry Francis. "I grew up, alright?" He grits his teeth, eyes locked on how Louis smiles and talks to the twin boys, eyes crinkling like they always did. "I love Francis"
"Of course, honey, I'm sorry" His mother says and sounds apologetic, at least. "It's just- you loved Louis as well. And that I got to see. I saw how you slowly fell for him, I never saw that with Francis, because you weren't living here anymore, maybe that's the reason"
"Maybe" Harry nods, fingers ripping out tiny bits of the grass on the lawn. It's so neat, somehow empty.
"Either way. Tell Louis I would love to see him again, he can always come over for dinner when he's in town" His mother smiles and Harry nods, excusing himself before he hangs up.
Right in that moment, when he pockets his phone again, Louis has handed the football back to the boys and turns around to Harry, doesn't say anything. He only smiles slightly and then walks onto his own garden, disappearing inside his house.
Harry frowns at the floor and makes his way back inside when he realises his hands are freezing.
He finds himself in front of the family picture in the living room, staring at sixteen year old Harry and Louis for too long. When his head is aching again with too much thinking, he tears his gaze away from it and makes himself a cup of tea, sitting down on the couch and grabbing a book he's been dying to read for ages.
Just that somehow, the black words on white pages always get out of focus and more than twice, Harry finds himself staring down at the paper without actually reading, lost in thoughts. Eventually, he ends up doing nothing all day, just waiting for his fiancé to come home, in desperate hopes the date they planned will finally take his mind off of things.
It's barely been two days, and he's already tired of this.
This is his new life, with his fiancé, with the man he's about to marry, the man he's going to start a family with, and all of a sudden, his ex boyfriend and first love moves in next door.
Louis was many of Harry's firsts, actually all of them.
And above all, he was Harry's first heartbreak.