When October rolled around, the only hours Louis spent in his room was in the late evening, early morning and when he slept. He hated being in there. Instead he spent every awake hour in the other lads room, but it didn't stop him and Harry from colliding all the time. With them taking the same classes it was impossible. That was also what led up to them having another-though, much worse-detention together, once again.
It was Thursday, October second and Louis woke up in a shit mood. His mother had the day before texted him about a gym she had found in The Town after a little Google search and said he should try it. And then there was the math test. He had not yet gotten his grade on it, but it had been stressful. And when they served boring ass rice for dinner, was when he decided that yesterday, was a fucking shit day.
He hated rice.
So when he woke up, with another day full of tests, school and Harry to look forward to, he wasn't exactly in the best mood.
He let out a groan and got up from the bed. Harry was still snoring softly as Louis went to shower and when he got back out Harry's eyes were still closed, his breathing even. Louis smirked and walked to his own bed, picking up a pillow. He needed some fun.
He threw it at him, the pillow hitting Harry straight in the face. They boy sat up, startled and looked bewildered around himself, the duvet sliding down his chest. Louis rolled his eyes at the sight of his abs. "Get a grip, Your Highness. There is breakfast soon!"
"Fuck off, Tomlinson!" Harry growled and threw the pillow back at Louis. Louis tried to catch it, but somehow ended up slapping himself across his cheek, followed by the pillow hitting his stomach. Harry felt onto his back on the bed, laughing loudly.
"Shut up," Louis mumbled, letting his fingers graze over the sore spot on his cheek. It stung when he touched it.
"Never," Harry said in a sing-song voice, as he got up from his bed. He walked toward the bathroom.
That was enough to set Louis' mood for the day.
Breakfast was boring. There was nothing new to talk about. The toast in front of Louis tasted like paper and Harry was sitting at opposite table, talking to a bunch of girls. Louis narrowed his eyes in on him. It looked a lot like he was doing an impression of... someone slapping themselves in the face. His theory was confirmed when all the girls turned to him and huddled together in a fit of giggles. Harry's eyes found Louis' and he sent the boy an evil smirk.
Louis anger rose and he grit his teeth, his eyes never wavering from where Harry sat.
"Be right back," Louis angrily told his friends and shot up from the bench.
"Where are you-" But Louis didn't hear the rest of Niall's sentence, too busy getting to Harry. Harry's eyes didn't waver from him one second as he neared the table and Louis could have sworn that the room had gone completely silent. Just for them.
Louis stopped in front of where Harry said, fisting his knuckles. "What the fuck do you think you are doing, Harry?" he said in a low, anger filled, voice
"I am telling my friends here-" he gestured to the girls around him, "-about a very funny story. Want to hear it? It is about a boy who tried to catch a pillow-"
"Oh shut up, Harry," Louis whispered and leaned down so he was on an eye level with Harry. "You really think these girls are your friends? Pathetic. They only want you for your status." He paused slightly before he continued. "And of course, a taste of the royal dick." Louis regretted the words as soon as they were over his lips: that was low, even for him. But done was done and he was not backing away. Not now, not ever.
Harry's face had turned red in anger and he slowly rose from his chair, standing in his full height in front of Louis. Louis would lie if he said he didn't feel intimidated by him. His stare was hard, his jaw tense, his eyebrows knitted together. "What did you just say?" His voice was low, a threat, only meant for Louis' ears.
Louis smirked slightly. There was no backing out now. "I said, they only want you for your dick."
"That's not true," Harry huffed.
"So if I asked you if you haven't slept with any of them, you would be able to give me an honest 'no'?" Louis quirked an eyebrow, but it was quickly washed off his face when he felt a hand collide with his cheek.
"Think before you fucking spe-" But Harry didn't get finish his sentence William interrupted him. The man had stood up from his seat and walked to the two boys. Louis hadn't even noticed.
"You two!" he said, pushing them further away from each other. It was only then Louis realized he had been standing so close that he could feel Harry's breath hit his sore cheek. "I do not want to tolerate this! Detention, for both of you, after classes have ended for the day. I want you to meet up at my office and I will give you your assignment. Until then, stay away from each other!" He looked between their two faces, anger and disproval evident on his face. He let out a sigh and ran a hand over his face. "I had expected more from the two of you."
"Fine, Mr Roberts," Louis said and sent Harry one last hard glance before returning to his seat next to Niall.
***
The day went way to quickly to Louis' liking and he felt that no time had passed when he found himself in front of William's office. Harry wasn't there yet and he was unsure if he was to knock or not. He didn't. Instead, he just stood still in front of the door, awkwardly waiting for Harry to show up. Louis' last class had been Religion and Harry's Chemistry, the only two classes they didn't have together. Thank God. Religion was bad enough itself, paired with Harry... Louis would rather jump in front of a train.
He heard footsteps coming his way and he turned to the left, looking in the direction from which they came. It was Harry. He was wearing a blue sweater and black jeans, his hair collected in a small bun at the back of his head. Louis couldn't help but chuckle lightly at the sight of the bun. Harry might have slightly longer hair than most of the boys in the school, but yet not enough to make it into a proper bun. Hair was falling out from it, framing his face delicately.
"You finally made it," Louis grunted as soon Harry was within ear shot.
"I had to help clean up after class," Harry said, an apology edged into his words. It sounded... sincere.
Louis shook his head. "Whatever. You were late."
"Jesus Christ-"
"-No need to call me that."
"Just knock on the fucking door, will you?" Harry sighed.
"Why don't you?" Louis bit back.
"Fine," Harry breathed and lifted his hand to knock, but Williams voice was heard even before his fit connected with the wood.
"Come in! You have been standing there long enough!"
Louis rolled his eyes and pushed past Harry to open up the door.
William's office was nothing like what he had expected. He had expected white walls and only black furniture. But maybe it was only because the only ever office he had been in was his father's, and that had looked exactly like that: black and white.
William's office was colorful and... full of life. The walls were a deep shade of green. On the walls there were family pictures and a body length mirror. There were bookshelves upon bookshelves, filled to the brim with colorful books. It reminded Louis slightly of their own library at home. The desk in the middle of the room-where William was seated- was overflooded with papers and different small plants.
If Louis hadn't been in such a sour mood he might have even commented on how cozy the exterior was. But he didn't. Instead he just tensed his jaw and looked at their headmaster. Harry had placed himself beside him and he could feel his presence clear as day, intruding his personal space.
"So," William began, clasping his hands together on top of the desk. He sent them both a pointed look. "I have to say,I am very disappointed in both of you."
"Sorry, sir," Harry quickly said. William pretty much ignored him. Louis snickered.
"You two have already had a detention together, for... having a pillow fight and yelling at each other, so loud that it woke up other students, correct?"
"Yes," the both mumbled in unison.
Louis thought back to James' detention that had happened a while ago by that point. It hadn't been the worst: they just had to solve some math questions, but in the presence of Harry everything seemed like hell.
"And I have plenty of teachers complaining about the two of you... competing against each other in class, correct?"
"I don't know, you tell me," Louis scoffed. "Just tell us what our detention is so we can get over with it."
"Don't use that tone on me, Louis," William warned. "We don't tolerate that here. No matter status."
"My apologies... sir," Louis said, without meaning a word.
"Well," William breathed, fiddling with some papers on his desk. Get to your fucking point already. "I am going to send you to the library to reorganize the whole section of authors who starts with an A to authors who starts with a G."
"What!" Harry squealed and looked bewildered at William. "That will take all night. What about dinner and... and homework?"
"Today your only homework will be to... bond-"
"-Bond!" Louis shrieked. This was unheard of.
"Yes, Louis," William said, the warning back in his tone. "Please, do not interrupt me!"
"Sorry, sir."
"You will get a pass to go to the kitchen and grab some food when you are done," William said, pinching the spot between his eyebrows. "Try not and rip each others throat out while you are at it."
"Will try, sir," Harry said, his voice ever so charming. Louis wanted to gag.
"Good. Now off you go." He shooed them out of the room.
The hallway outside William's office was empty and as they stood there all alone, Louis suddenly felt an emotion he had never felt before near Harry: awkwardness. He had felt anger, annoyed, irritated, competitive, but never awkwardness. But it was there, lingering in the air, together with the fact that were to spend the next many hours together.
"So... off we go?" Harry said. His was tone weary, his eyes not meeting Louis'.
"What do you think?" Louis snarled and pushed past him, going for the library and leaving the other boy behind.
The first half an hour was spent in utter silence, except a small annoyed huff here and there. They sorted through the books, put them piles on top of each other and then onto the shelves in alphabetical order.
It was after that half hour that Harry decided to open his mouth. "So... Louis."
Louis groaned. "Please, don't fucking talk."
"I was trying to make small talk," Harry huffed and looked angrily at Louis. In his arms were a large stack of books, which, combined with the small bun in his hair, made him look like a little nerd. Louis got the sudden urge to smile a little at the sight in front of him, but suppressed it. Harry might have good looks, but he was a devil on the inside. He had to remember that.
"I am sure you were," Louis said dryly. "And I don't care."
"Come on." Harry put down the stack of books onto the floor, crossing his arms in front of his chest, his biceps bulging. "We are going to spend... well... probably hours in here together. Why not get to know each other a little?"
Louis couldn't help the laugh that escaped past his lips. "What is your masterplan, Your Highness?" He made his voice posh. "What are you up to?"
"What do you mean?" Harry pouted. Fucking pouted.
"Exactly what I said," Louis said, crossing his own arms over his chest. "What are you up to?"
"Maybe I just want to get to know my roommate?" Harry groaned and lifted his arms out to his sides, an annoyed huff leaving his lips.
"Fine," Louis hissed. He wasn't good with silence anyway. "What do you want to know?"
"Why not switch between asking each other questions?" Harry asked, a mischievous tint to his voice.
"Whatever," Louis mumbled and then a little louder, "You first, then. Ask me something."
Harry pondered over his question as he took the stack of books back in his arms. "Let's start simple. Favorite color?"
"Red," Louis answered immediately, putting a book onto the shelf. "My turn... um... favorite place at the palace?"
Harry bit his lip, as if unsure to answer, but after a few seconds of hesitation he did answer. "The top of the east tower."
"Hm," Louis hummed, not really caring for further details. "Your turn."
"Favorite author?"
Louis looked weirdly at him.
"What?" Harry chuckled slightly. Something moved in Louis' gut. "I notice you read, you know."
"Oh." Louis' mouth formed the shape of an 'o'. "Well, um, I guess I like Taylor Jenkins Reid a lot."
"Ahh," Harry said, a smirk edged into his words. "The Seven Husbands Of Evelyn Hugo?"
"One of the best." Louis couldn't help but grin a little himself, but then shook his head. He was not having fun. "Well, what is your favorite author then?"
"I don't know really," Harry shrugged. "I like a lot of the classics. The Picture Of Dorian Gray-"
"That's a good one," Louis pointed out and placed a book on its spot. "Children begin by loving their parents; as they grow older they judge them; sometimes they forgive them." The quote fell from his lips before he even registered it. It was one of the few he had memorized from the book, because it reminded him so much of himself. Of his parents.
"That's a good quote," Harry said from where he stood.
"It's good, because it tells the truth," Louis stated, not daring to look at Harry. Why did he say that?
"I guess it does," Harry said, his voice suddenly small. "Though, I don't really relate."
"Why not?" Louis questioned, quirking an eyebrow at the boy. He thought everyone would relate in some way at least.
"My father was king, now my mother is the queen, my sister to be in a few years. Who can judge that? You can only admire it," Harry said lowly, his voice suddenly filled to the brim with vulnerability. "They all did, or are to do something important for society. Can't really judge that."
Louis suddenly remembered Zayn's words from the beginning of the school year.
"Take it easy on him," Zayn said lowly, not wanting anyone to overhear. "He doesn't have it easy."
"Who has?" Louis said, his tone bored.
"Well, your father hasn't died within the last six months, have he?" Zayn raised and eyebrow at Louis.
Louis had completely forgot that the king had passed away. Before he had met Harry he hadn't really given the royals much thought and when Zayn had brought it up, he had just brushed it off. But the look on Harry's face right now made him feel pity for the boy. Something he never thought he was to associate with Harry, of all people.
"Well-" he cleared his throat, "-isn't it your turn to ask a question?"
"I guess it is," Harry said, his voice once again loud and clear. All vulnerability was gone from it. "Um, favorite movie?"
"Grease." Louis' answer came immediately.
"Hm," Harry hummed. "Never watched that."
"What!" Louis looked bewildered at him. "How can you not have watched Grease?"
"I don't really watch that many movies," Harry chuckled.
"Well, neither do I, but everyone has watched fucking Grease!" Louis exclaimed, putting five books onto the shelf. "It's Grease!"
"I haven't," Harry said matter-of-factly. "Not yet at least."
Louis huffed. "Whatever. My turn... eh... What sports do you do? If you do any, of course."
"How polite you suddenly have become, Tomlinson," Harry chuckled.
"Don't get used to it!" Louis said. He tried to sound harsh, but the grin tugging his lips upwards betrayed him.
"I am not planning on it," Harry smirked. "And to answer your question; archery and horse riding. Though, I haven't done either for a while. You?"
"Me?" Louis asked.
"Yeah. What sports do you do?" Harry asked, looking down at a book in his hands before putting it onto the shelf.
"Um, not any really," Louis mumbled, suddenly feeling insecure. "Well, I do in PE, of course, but that's about that."
Harry hummed. "All right, nice. Your turn again."
Louis scratched the back of his neck as he though of a question to ask the other boy. "What's the queen like?"
"My mother?" Harry raised an eyebrow at him.
"Yeah," Louis said. "I mean, like, is she very cold or something like that?"
"No," Harry chuckled. "She is very great... most of the time at least." A dark shadow moved over his features, but it was gone as quick as it had come. "Why would she be cold?"
"I don't know," Louis shrugged. "I was just curious."
"Fine, then." Harry shrugged it off. "Well, my questions is, how many sisters do you really have? I feel like your mother keep pushing them out."
Louis couldn't help the laugh that escaped past his lips. "Jesus." He shook his head lightly. "Only four. For now."
"Only for?" Harry belted. "That's two more than there are home at the palace! I can only imagine how hard of a time your parents must have had raising you all."
Now it was Louis' time to have a shadow cast over his features. "My turn," he snapped.
"Um, all right," Harry said, his voice unsure. He cast Louis a worried look. "Ask away."
"How is life at the palace?" Louis pried. He wasn't ashamed to admit he wanted to know how things was behind those big stone walls. And now he had the chance.
"Oh." Harry's mouth formed a small 'o'. "Well, um, it's fine. A little bit lonely sometimes, but... I actually kind of like it. Being alone I mean."
"Why?" Louis had to ask. "I hate being alone." It was true. He hadn't known exactly how much he had actually hated it when he had lived at home, but now, when he was at school he wanted to be near his friends all the time.
"I guess that's how were are different-"
"-We are very different, Harry. Don't ever doubt that."
Harry rolled his eyes. "What I mean, is that I feel like I am always watched by the public. Every time I go out there are something who feels the need to be with me or scream my name or just do something. When I am at the palace it's just me, my sister, my mother and my fa-well, just us. It's nice, even though it is sometimes a little lonely." His voice cracked at he was about to mention his father and Louis felt a pang of sympathy in his chest.
Louis cleared his throat loudly as awkward silence settled over the. "Um, all right."
They worked a little in silence. It wasn't a tense silence, the awkward silence having turned into a rather comfortable one. But Louis had gotten in a talkative mood and he wanted to use his mouth; even though Harry was the only one to hear the words it would say.
"Do you ever think about, like, how we are all just visitors to a place called life?" Louis said randomly.
Harry jerked his head toward Louis. "What?"
"Yes," Louis said, nodding slightly to himself. "Like, life has always been, but we have not. So we are just visitors."
"Your brain is weird."
"Thank you, curly."
"Don't call me-"
"-And did you know Dolphins sleep with one eyes open?"
"Ye-"
"-That's because they have to look out for danger. They have the ability to shut down one part of their brain-while sleeping, while at the same time remaining consciousness, in case something will attack them."
"Okay, that part I did not know."
"And that for twenty whole years, from 1997 to 2017, the Alaskan town Talkeetna had a cat as a mayor. Isn't that the craziest shit you have ever heard?"
"Tomlinson? What are you doing?" Harry looked at Louis, his expression amused. "Where did you learn all these facts?"
"Random internet surfing," Louis shrugged. "I used to get bored at home a lot. Searched up a bunch of random shit."
"Oh," Harry said. "Well, that's... nice, I guess. Pretty useless-"
"-Hey!"
"Am I wrong?"
"If I had had a pillow I would have thrown it at you!" Louis crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Actually-" he walked to a random shelf and picked out a book, "-this will do!" He drew his arm back and threw the book.
Harry shrieked and ducked out of the way. "Louis!" He book flew past him.
"I didn't give you permission to call me that!" Louis huffed, but his lips were tugging upwards into a small, barely there, smile.
"First of all-" Harry held up a pointy finger, the smooth skin between his eyebrows set in a frown, "-neither did I give you permission to call me Harry, Harold or Curly, so shut up. Secondly, that was the school's fucking book!"
Louis huffed and walked past Harry, picking up the book from where it lay on the floor. It had no scratches. "See!" He held it up in Harry's face, the book only an inch away from touching his nose. "No harm, princess." Louis could have imagined it, but he would have sworn that Harry's cheeks tinted slightly red at the rather new nickname. If Louis remembered correctly, he has only used that one once. Maybe twice.
He had to remind himself to say it more.
"I am no princess," Harry said, trying to sound intimidating, but failing miserably.
"Hm, I think you are," Louis hummed and patted Harry's bun. This time there for sure was a blush creeping up Harry's neck. Louis' stomach fluttered for unknown reasons.
"Whatever," Harry huffed. "Let's finish up here so we can go to the kitchen and get some food."
It took them another three and a half hours, the time on Louis' wristwatch saying 8.43. They didn't talk a lot other than they had done, but it was nice. Nicer than Louis had expected it to be. He wasn't sure weather that was a good thing or not.
They were on their way to the kitchen which were in the basement-something Louis had discovered their very first week. Their footsteps were the only sound to be heard. They stopped, finally, in front of the large door leading into the kitchen. Louis pushed it open.
There was no one in the kitchen when they stepped in. Harry flipped the switch, bringing light to the room.
"So... where is the food?" Louis questioned and looked around them.
"Well, I don't know about you, but I would check the fridge," Harry said in mocking voice, moving to the long row the fridges by one of the walls. He opened the first one, looking at the inventory. "Um, just a ton of vegetables."
"No eatable food?"
"Vegetables are eatable, Tomlinson," Harry said.
"They are not. Check the other ones." He gestured to the fridges.
Harry rolled his eyes and moved to the next one. "Just a ton of different meat." He looked through the other fridges, but there was nothing else, other than meat, juice, milk and vegetables, except the last one. When Harry opened it a piece of paper fell out. He picked up, read over the lines written upon it. When he was finished he let out a small, "For suck sake."
"What is it?" Louis asked and made grabby hands toward the paper. "Give me." His voice sounded childish as he said the words.
"Try and sound more like a toddler," Harry laughed dryly, but gave Louis the paper nonetheless.
Louis read over it. Then once more. And once more.
Underneath there was attached a recipe for Spaghetti Bolognese.
"Are you shitting my dick!" Louis exclaimed and read over it once again.
"No, I am not," Harry said from where he was still standing by the fridge. "I am not into anal." Louis sent him a look that could kill.
"But I have no clue how to cook!" Louis half-shouted.
"Good for you that I do, then," Harry said.
"And exactly how do you know that?" Louis raised an eyebrow at him.
"I spend a lot of hours in the kitchen, home at the palace," Harry shrugged.
"I wouldn't have guessed."
"Oh, shut up will you." Harry rolled his eyes. "Give me the recipe." Louis handed it to him. "Thank you." He skimmed over it. "I will do the bolognese, you will do the spaghetti. Sounds easy enough, okay?"
"No."
"Good, we agree."
"No, we don't."
"Make the damn spaghetti, Tomlinson."
Louis tried, he really did. He found a pot and filled it water and set it to boil. He filled in a teaspoon of salt and little bit of oil, just as the recipe described. What he had overseen though was that the spaghetti was only to boil for about eight minutes. Twenty minutes after Louis had set the spaghetti to boil, Harry walked up to him. "How far is the pasta?"
They had been standing in different ends of the kitchen, Harry trusting Louis to handle the food; bad idea.
"I put it in twenty minutes ago," Louis shrugged. "I think it is fini-"
"TWENTY MINUTES?" Harry yelled into his face. "THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO BOIL FOR EIGHT!"
Louis had seen Harry irritated and annoyed. He had thought he seen him angry, but nothing was compared to how angry he got over some... food.
"Jesus, Harry, chill," Louis said. "I am sure it is not that bad."
It turned out it was that bad. The spaghetti looked more like rat tails falling apart than anything food related by that point.
"Jesus fuck, Tomlinson," Harry growled. "You-" he breathed in deeply before continuing, "-go set the table. I will boil some new."
"Okay, sir," Louis mumbled, not seeing a reason to argue, and moved to the cabinets in the hope of finding something that could be used for, well, eating. He ended up finding plates, forks and knives and glasses. He took one of the juice bottles (why was it in a bottle?) from one of the fridges and placed it on the table. "Tada!" He made wild hand movements toward the table. Harry, who was now standing by the stove, putting new spaghetti in new, fresh water, gave him an unimpressed look.
"Compliment it!" Louis whined.
"And you say I am the attention seeker," Harry laughed slightly.
"Shut up, Harry."
"Fine." He shut up and Louis sat down at the table, Harry soon joining him.
Louis poured some spaghetti onto his plate, his stomach grumbling at the sight.
"You hungry?" Harry chuckled as he took some himself.
"What do you think?" Louis laughed slightly and poured some bolognese onto his spaghetti. "I haven't eaten since-" he paused his sentence to think, "-since breakfast I think?"
"You didn't get lunch?" Harry furrowed his eyebrows.
"Didn't feel like it," Louis shrugged.
"You have to eat," Harry said.
"Wow, thanks, Betty," Louis mumbled.
"Who is Betty?" Harry raised an eyebrow, lifting his fork to his mouth. Louis noticed he stuck out his tongue before putting the food in his mouth. It was... weird.
"Our personal chef," Louis answered his question. "She is always very much after us about what we eat and how much, Well, not how much, but, like, that we eat enough."
"Um, cool," Harry muttered. Louis wanted to mock him for the way he said 'cool' but held back. "She sounds nice."
"She is," Louis nodded. "I should actually ca-" He stopped himself midsentence. What was he doing? He was sitting, eating dinner with Harry, of all people. And they were talking, like friends. But they weren't, they hated each other. That was how it was and it was not going to change. Not now, not ever.
"You were saying?" Harry questioned.
"Nothing," Louis said harshly. Harry winced at his words. "Just... eat and let's not talk."
They ate the rest of the meal in an awkward silence, but Louis barely noticed it, to busy scolding himself about having been nice to Harry. Friendly. Chatty. They weren't like that. They weren't going to be like that. He would make sure of it.
They finished eating and put their stuff in the dishwasher. As soon as that was done Louis hurried out the door, trying to get away from Harry, but the other boy had other plans in mind. Harry ran to keep up with him. "Louis!" Louis ignored him, even as Harry stopped up next to him, their steps falling in with each other.
He tried once more. "Louis."
Louis ignored him again. Not friends.
"Jesus, what's your problem?" Harry said, an edge of hurt visible in his voice. "What did I do?"
Louis groaned as he took the first few steps leading up the stairs to the floors above. "Shut up, will you? Out detention is over. We can go back to being us." With those words he started running up the steps, leaving Harry behind.
He panted as he entered the room. He was not used to running. He went for his bed, throwing himself upon it. It was half past ten and he quickly thought about going to the other boys room, but then decided against it. He was tired.
He went for the bathroom, brushed his teeth and went back into the room. Harry still hadn't returned, so he quickly stripped out of his clothes to change into something new before he would arrive. He felt goosebumps rise on his body as he stood in nothing but his boxers and he was just about to reach for the the top drawer when the door opened.
Louis shrieked and put his arms in front of chest and stomach as Harry entered. The boy looked angrily at him, his eyes roaming over him, something Louis couldn't identify in his eyes. There was definitely anger... but also something else that Louis couldn't put a name to. Louis felt like he might die of embarrassment as he crumbled in on himself. "Are you done being a brat?" Harry spit as he walked to his own bed. His eyes never wavered from Louis.
Louis didn't answer, but he could feel how his whole body was shaking. He was standing almost naked in front of Harry Styles, The Prince of England. Which thoughts mustn't have gone through Harry's head? Louis was sure they weren't nice ones.
"Fine," Harry huffed and moved to the bathroom. "Have it your way." He slammed the door after him.
When silence filled the room-the only sound to be heard the sound of running water from the bathroom-Louis did, with shaking hands, take a hoodie and a pair of sweats out from his dresser, pulled it on and crept under the sheets, with only one thought in mind, He just saw almost all of me.