Summary: Strawberries and Cigarettes by Troye Sivan, but make it Larry.
Hopefully you guys know this song bc these are always more enjoyable to read when you know/like the song 🤞🏼
Also, to spare any possible "why?" comments, ✨it's up to your interpretation✨ hahaha
-
Remember when we first met?
You said "light my cigarette"
So I lied to my mom and dad
I jumped the fence and I ran
2011
Harry watches Louis run into Princess Park to grab snacks for the two of them. As soon as the door closes behind him, Harry's phone rings.
"Hello?" He answers.
"Hi sweetheart!" Anne's bright voice comes through the speaker, and Harry immediately smiles.
"Hi mum. What's up?" Harry looks out at the trees on the horizon, observing the way the burning orange sun slowly sets behind them.
"How was your day?" She wonders.
"It was good. I'm actually hanging out with Louis right now," he mentions. The two of them spending time together this evening isn't an official date, but it sure feels like one to Harry.
"Oh, well that's nice. Are you still liking living together?" Harry's smile doubles in size, because living with Louis is nothing short of a dream. He gets to see his best friend every day, not only during work but also before and after it. Also, it seems like Louis' favorite thing to do is to make Harry laugh, which he achieves by being silly and a little bit obnoxious at times. It's fun living with such an energetic and carefree person, but what Harry likes the most about living with Louis is that the older boy is always there to cheer him up if he is having a bad day. No matter what, all Harry has to hear is one of Louis' original jokes (which are definitely not stolen off the internet), or receive a comforting hug from him to make him smile and feel better.
"Yeah, it's been great," Harry simply says.
"A little help!" Louis' voice suddenly cuts into the soft rustle of trees and chirp of birds.
"I have to go now, mum. Can I call you tomorrow?"
"Of course. Have fun with Louis, honey," she says.
"I will. Bye!" Harry puts his phone down on the wooden table in front of him and jogs over to Louis, who is struggling to pull the main door shut while holding what looks like a scattered robbery of their entire apartment. Harry takes a few things from Louis' arms, namely a blanket, a box of crackers, a lighter, a large bag of Smarties, and a water bottle. "Is there anything left in our flat?" Harry teases.
"I didn't know what we wanted, so I just grabbed everything," Louis explains with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. They go to where Harry was sitting and drop everything onto the circular table. "It's gotten a bit chilly out here," Louis says. Now that the sun is almost behind the trees, the world is dimly lit and a little chilly, starkly contrasting the warmth of the May afternoon.
"There's only one blanket," Harry says, letting Louis do whatever he wants with that information.
"Well we'll just have to move our chairs close together so we can share it, won't we?" Harry watches with a wide smile as Louis moves two chairs so close together that the arm rests are almost overlapping. He sits in the one on the right, and Harry happily settles into the one on the left. Only a sliver of sun is peeking over the top of the trees, but orange and yellow streaks of light are still etched into the dusty blue-grey dusk.
Louis unfolds the knitted emerald blanket and drapes it equally over their legs, then reaches for the lighter and drops it into Harry's lap. "Light my cigarette, would you?" He softly asks. Harry isn't sure why Louis always asks him to light his cigarette for him. He knows Louis knows how to use a lighter; maybe he has trouble lighting it while it's in his mouth. Or maybe he doesn't.
"My mum asked if you started smoking, you know. She said they don't want me to pick it up from you." The end of the cigarette glows bright orange as Louis takes a drag, then exhales pungent smoke into the air. Louis has only been smoking for a couple months now, but Harry doesn't really mind it. The smell was once repulsive, but his brain is now beginning to associate the strong, bitter aroma with Louis, because the only time he smells it up close like this is when he's with him.
"What'd you tell them?" Louis wonders.
"I lied. I said you smelled like smoke when they saw you last because you accidentally walked through the smoking section outside the venue," he explains. It didn't feel good lying to his mom and step dad, but he is willing to tell a small fib here and there if it means his parents are approving of Louis. Their approval means the world to Harry, and something about the way Louis makes him feel makes Harry need his parents to approve of him.
-
But we couldn't go very far
'Cause you locked your keys in your car
So you sat and stared at my lips
And I could already feel your kiss
2012
It is not very often that Louis and Harry have the day to themselves. When the band gets a day off, the five of them usually hang out at one of their apartments. However, today is different. Today, Liam, Niall, and Zayn seemed to want to stay at their own apartments, which means Louis and Harry got to spend all day together and be as romantic as they pleased.
After spending the morning in bed and having such slow, languorous sex that it is more appropriately described as "love making," they showered together before ordering food and watching movies.
"Let's do something," Louis says when the end credits begin for their third movie.
"Like what?" Harry wonders, moving his head from the front of Louis' shoulder to the top of it; he plants a soft kiss on Louis' neck while he waits for an answer.
"I dunno. Ice cream?" Harry puckers his lips as he thinks, then sighs.
"That requires getting up."
"So?" Louis wonders.
"I'm just too comfortable," Harry says, nuzzling up even closer to Louis. He wraps an arm around his boyfriend's torso and gives him a gentle squeeze.
"I'll carry you, then."
"You'll drop me," Harry says.
"I won't. Come on, love." Louis scooches forward until he is sitting on the edge of the couch cushion, which takes a little bit longer than expected because Harry is clinging to him. Regardless, he soon feels Harry sit close behind him, wrapping his limbs around his boyfriend and resting his chin on his shoulder. Louis holds Harry's thighs and stands up easy enough, then walks to the front door while Harry leaves little kisses on the side of his neck and jaw. "Boom." Louis playfully makes a sound effect as he sets Harry on the ground. "You survived!" He smiles, turning around to kiss Harry.
They are both wearing sweatpants, and Harry is wearing a hoodie while Louis just has a t-shirt on, so there is no need for them to change before leaving. They slip their shoes on and leave their apartment. Harry feels strangely cold and detached from Louis, since they spent the better half of the day wrapped up in each other. So, he holds Louis' hand as they make their way down the stairs and to their car.
"It's cold," Louis says after taking not even three steps outside.
"Want my hoodie?" Harry offers. In his chivalry, Louis declines. They climb into Louis' car and buckle their seat belts, but the older boy pauses before starting the car.
"I think I want my coat," he tentatively decides.
"Louiiiis," Harry groans.
"It's cold!" Louis defends himself, then steps out of the car.
"It's almost November. Did you think it'd be warm?" Harry jokes. Louis shuts his door, walks over to Harry's side, and swings the door open.
"Come on." Louis holds his hand out for Harry, who unbuckles his seatbelt and takes Louis' hand.
They slowly make their way back to their apartment, using the elevator this time, and Louis grabs his coat. Harry yawns as the elevator takes them back down to the lobby, and they hold hands once again on their way back to Louis' car.
"Unlock the car, Lou," Harry says when he tugs on the passenger side door.
"It is unlocked," he says as he walks over to the driver's side. He pulls on the door handle, taken back when it doesn't open. He tries again, and again, then frantically feels his sweatpants pockets. "Fuck," he curses when he spots his keys sitting on the edge of the seat; they must have fallen out of his pocket earlier.
"What happened?" Harry asks.
"Locked my fucking keys in the car." Harry speeds around to Louis' side, cupping his hands beside his eyes on the glass so he can better see inside. Sure enough, Louis' car keys are sitting right next to the seat belt buckle.
"No ice cream for us," Harry sighs, leaning his back against the car.
"Sorry, Haz." He frowns at Harry, who opens his arms for him. Louis steps in front of Harry and is soon pulled closer to his boyfriend, feeling the boy's gentle hands resting on his lower back.
"Does that mean we can go back inside and cuddle?" Harry wonders, a small, cheeky smirk playing at his lips. Louis' heart flutters, and his eyes flicker down to Harry's lips before returning to his green eyes. He often finds himself under a spell of Harry's attention and affection, but he never minds. If he gets to feel butterflies in his stomach and be the subject of Harry's love every day, that's just fine with him.
"We can do whatever you want to do, my love." This time, Harry's eyes drop to Louis' lips, and he slowly leans in. Louis meets him halfway, putting a hand on Harry's chest as they softly kiss and try not to smile too wide.
-
Long nights, daydreams
Sugar and smoke rings, I've been a fool
But strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you
Headlights, on me
Racing to 60, I've been a fool
2013
Heaven. The small fan at the foot of Louis and Harry's bed causes the thin bed sheet to dome a little. Its edges flitter above the couple's heads, keeping them inside their linen heaven and hidden from the outside world.
Louis and Harry lay facing each other, soft smiles on their faces. Louis' right hand is cushioned underneath his pillow, and Harry's right arm is draped across his chest; their left hands are loosely clasped together in the space between them. Harry adjusts his position ever so slightly and exhales through his nose in a soft laugh when his sock-clad foot grazes Louis' shin. Their eyes meet, and their smiles grow.
"What do you think we'll be doing in five years?" Louis wonders, voice soft.
"I'll be married to you," Harry says, sounding calm and matter-of-fact.
"Is that right?" Louis says.
"Mhm. Do you think we'll get a house?"
"I like our flat," Louis says. "We haven't been here a year yet and you want a house," he gently teases.
"I dunno," Harry hums. To him, moving into another living space would only be for the sake of location and the size of their space, because it will be home as long as he is with Louis. "I like our flat," he agrees. They fall back into the quiet of their linen dome, eyes meeting occasionally when they aren't tracing over the loved lines and delicate features of each other's faces.
Louis admires Harry's lips, because they are endlessly talented. From them come enchanting melodies and promises only made to Louis, and also bland jokes. They are perfectly rounded and pink, and feeling their kiss is like receiving the only gift you could ever need.
Harry admires Louis' eyes and eyelashes. Their ocean blue reminds Harry of swimming in open water as a kid, how he would always be afraid of sharks in the shallow water, and how brave he would feel when he would go in the deeper parts with his big sister. That blue is the first color he sees in the morning and the last he sees at night, before those long and beautiful eyelashes bring Louis' eyelids down for sleep.
Harry follows the mesmerizing blue upwards until he realizes Louis is looking into his eyes, and he feels his face heat up. He reflexively wiggles his toes and accidentally touches Louis' shin again, making him blush even more.
"You're gonna have to stop blushing every time we make eye contact if we're gonna get married, baby," Louis fondly says.
"I know," Harry says. He can't help but still feel a little intimidated by Louis at times, but it's not entirely his fault. Louis is everything. He's handsome and he's funny and he's strong, and he knows Harry inside and out. He knows how to make Harry laugh until his sides hurt, how to cheer him up when he is down, and he even knows how to understand what Harry wants to say while his mouth is full of a moving toothbrush and foamy toothpaste. Harry knows that Louis takes the time to understand how he works, and that makes Harry's tummy and heart feel things it has never felt for another boy before.
"So tell me. How did you get to be so beautiful?" Louis asks. Harry scrunches his nose and hides his face with their still intertwined hands; he kisses Louis' hand before returning them to his pillow. Something about the way Harry reacts to simple compliments, and how he always replies with an even more flattering one for Louis, makes Louis' heart flutter. It almost feels like a tightness in his chest. It is the realization that Harry's inner beauty and innocence, and his unmatched ability to take Louis' breath away and leave him speechless by the things he does, makes Louis want to spend the rest of his life attached to the boy. His heart beats in sync with Harry's, and he has never known and loved someone so completely as he loves Harry.
It is an unspoken understanding between them that they share this feeling, as it is impossible to describe or express a love so intense. A love that transcends deep affection or empathy, but rather makes them feel like a shared heart and soul divided into two bodies that were destined to meet and walk through life alongside each other, with nothing ever able to separate their shared life force.
-
But strawberries and cigarettes always taste like
Blue eyes, black jeans
Lighters and candy, I've been a fool
But strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you
2013
"Just because it's New Year's Eve doesn't mean we have to wait until midnight to kiss," Louis says.
"But if we kiss at 11:59, that's only one more minute, then it's not as special," Harry explains. He takes a sip of champagne from a tall, skinny glass, then looks around the party for one of his friends so they can back him up. Louis takes a drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke into the space in front of him. He hasn't dressed up for the party, wearing black skinny jeans and one of Harry's old band t-shirts. The look brings Harry comfort, because his boyfriend looks no different than he does on any given day.
"I won't kiss you after 11:55 then," Louis decides. "Now come closer." Harry turns away and sets down his small plate of strawberries and other fruit while Louis takes a small drag. He waits for Harry to finish chewing the bite of his favorite fruit before cupping the back of his neck to bring the boy closer. With Harry's lips parted and only inches away from his, Louis slowly exhales a small line of smoke into Harry's mouth. He watches as Harry blows the smoke out right beside Louis' head, a faint, barely visible cloud floating past his lips. Harry finally kisses his boyfriend, tasting the sweetness of strawberries and the lingering harshness of cigarette smoke mixing as their lips and tongues proclaim their affection.
Louis has only shotgunned cigarette smoke with Harry a handful of times. Each time he does it, Harry oddly feels like Louis is some Mafia drug guy and Harry is his boy who is slowly being changed by Louis' corrupt ways. That is nothing of the sort, however, so he would never tell Louis that. He also wouldn't tell Louis because it drives a small part of him crazy when he feels the warm smoke drift past his lips and into his mouth. He foolishly thinks he is getting secondhand addicted, and he doesn't care.
"You're my soulmate, you know," Harry quietly says when they pull away, their breaths coming out in quick puffs. Even though the music is loud and people around them aren't much quieter, Louis and Harry are sitting so close together that they can hear each other perfectly.
"My endgame, baby," Louis says, voice even quieter than Harry's. Harry's dark pink lips form a wide grin, and he cups Louis' face in his hands before kissing him again.
Making out in the middle of the party and being obnoxious in front of his friends is not high up on Harry's list of things he cares about in this moment. If the couple keeps kissing and promising each other forever past Louis' promised 11:55, so be it.
-
Remember when you taught me fate
Said it'd all be worth the wait
Like that night in the back of the cab
When your fingers walked in my hand
2014
Louis and Harry's relationship began with soft crushes that inevitably turned into years of infatuation, but eventually crashed and burned like a meteor.
Their lives still flow the same, as does their seating arrangement when traveling in cars, but there is an electric disconnect between Louis and Harry that is nothing short of tragic.
Liam, Zayn, and Niall are sitting in their self-proclaimed unassigned seats in the second row of the car, while Louis and Harry are together in the back row. They are all buzzing from the excitement of winning awards at the night's award show, in addition to the seemingly endless flow of alcohol at the event, but Louis and Harry hardly feel happy.
"Do you believe in fate?" Harry quietly asks Louis.
"I don't know," Louis shrugs. "You?" His eyes remain on the head rest in front of him, while Harry's shift from Louis' side profile to the middle seat between them.
"I don't know either. But maybe everything will be worth it when we get to where we're supposed to be," he softly rambles.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Louis wonders, now meeting Harry's eyes in the dim car.
"You coming?" Niall interjects. Harry debates answering Louis' question, but eventually decides to let it be. Harry unbuckles his seat belt, and his fingers lightly graze Louis' hand as he makes his way out of the car.
The after-party is crowded with celebrities, paparazzi are scattered by the doors, and Harry can't wait to leave. He downs drink after drink with a few band mates and a few friends, hoping it will make him feel better. As he lowers his head after his latest shot, he spots him.
Harry leaves his small group for the man, the tall man who is older than him and who has a familiar face, a face he wishes he could sit on.
"Hey," the brunette smiles when Harry places himself in front of him. His stubble and bright blue eyes--and the fact that Harry has to look up to see his face properly--does things to the younger boy's drunken insides.
"I've seen you on a television show." Harry slurs his words and lays a finger on the man's chest, his black tuxedo feeling soft underneath his touch.
"And I like your music. I'm Cheyenne." He and Harry shake hands, and Harry gets butterflies in his stomach. Cheyenne Jackson. An older, taller, hot man likes his music.
"I'm Harry," he says. "Can I buy you a drink? Or would your boyfriend be jealous?"
"I'm single," Cheyenne says.
"Me too." A small smile forms on Harry's lips, and he starts to feel okay again.
"How about I buy you a drink?" Cheyenne offers.
"Okay," Harry happily hums.
Liam and Louis are inconveniently sitting on a couch near the bar, and Liam unfortunately calls Harry and his guest to join them. Cheyenne sits down on a black leather couch across from Harry's band mates, holding two martinis and looking at Harry.
"Come sit, handsome." Harry immediately melts under Cheyenne's gentle words and sits close to him, taking his drink with a satisfied smile.
After their martinis, Cheyenne goes back up to the bar, coming back with an old fashioned. He continues his conversation with Liam and Louis while Harry slides their hands together, disinterested in whatever they are talking about. Cheyenne absentmindedly runs his thumb across Harry's knuckles in response. Harry isn't sure if his clinginess is from being drunk or lonely, but Cheyenne's attention and affection feels like heaven.
"Looks like people are starting to leave. Wanna go to my place?" Cheyenne asks.
"Yeah," Harry nods. "We're leaving," he tells Liam as he and Cheyenne stand up. He feels Cheyenne's strong arm wrap around his waist, and his knees nearly give out. His eyes meet Louis' for a moment, but that moment is over by the time Harry registers the hurt on his face.
-
Next day, nothin' on my phone
But I can still smell you on my clothes
Always hoping things would change
But we went right back to your games
The band's tour bus will soon depart for a new city, but Harry isn't on board yet. In fact, no one has seen him since the after-party last night.
Louis debated texting or calling him, since Harry is usually one of the first ones to be checked out of his hotel room and on the tour bus with his luggage. He knows he shouldn't be worried about his ex who he is heartbroken over, but he still loves him. He can't help but still feel fondness for him, nor can he put down the feeling of needing to know Harry is safe.
"Hey Paul?" Louis speaks up when Paul passes by the couch.
"Yeah?" He stops and turns to Louis.
"Would you mind calling Harry? I wouldn't want him to miss the bus taking off," Louis lies. He figures Harry would prefer a call from his bodyguard than a call from his ex-boyfriend after going home with someone new. "It would just be more work for you guys to track him down and catch up with us," Louis adds in his most polite tone. Paul thinks for a moment, then pulls his phone out of his back pocket with a small sigh.
As if on cue, the bus door opens and Harry stumbles through with two large packed bags, wearing the same pants and button-up shirt as last night. Louis sits up and stares at the boy, feeling relieved that Harry is safe and made it back on time. He almost says something to him, until a second person enters the bus.
Cheyenne has a backpack slung over one shoulder and is carrying a suitcase with one arm as if it is filled with feathers. He is wearing the same tuxedo as he was last night, though the jacket is missing and he looks not nearly as polished.
"Harry, you know those go outside," Paul gently reminds him.
"Oh, right. I'm sorry," Harry realizes. He sets his bags down, Cheyenne sets the suitcase down, and Paul takes them all outside in one trip. "I need my backpack, Cheyenne," Harry says before the older man can leave. With a pleased smile, Cheyenne follows Harry to the bunks, neither of them acknowledging Louis' presence.
"Is this your bed?" Cheyenne quietly asks. Louis doesn't want to get caught staring at the pair, so he mindlessly scrolls through his phone while he eavesdrops.
"Yeah. Thank you for helping me pack. I wouldn't have made it in time if it weren't for you," Harry says, also talking quietly. He leans against the wall of beds and yawns, and Cheyenne pulls him in for a hug. "You're comfortable," he contently hums.
"Don't fall asleep," Cheyenne lightly chuckles. Harry takes a deep breath after a moment, then pulls away from the warm embrace just enough so they can kiss. He lets Cheyenne hold onto him for as long as the man pleases, because he is exhausted and he loves the way it feels when their bodies are pressed together.
Louis bites the inside of his cheek when he hears the fabric of Harry and Cheyenne's clothes rubbing together as they hug, and he nearly loses it when he hears the unmistakable wet noise of them kissing.
"Bye, babe," Cheyenne finally says, gently lifting Harry's chin with his finger. "Call me when you're back in LA."
"Okay," Harry says. Just by the tone of his voice, Louis can tell he's smiling.
As Cheyenne leaves, he looks at Louis and gives him a small wave. Louis forces himself to smile back, almost forgetting that he and Liam had a whole conversation with him the night before.
When Harry eventually comes back into Louis' view, he is wearing a big sweatshirt, a pair of shorts that end right at his mid thigh, and white crew socks. He looks cozy, albeit hungover, but nevertheless cozy. It finally registers in Louis' mind that he got laid last night--it is almost painfully obvious now.
First, he was late to the bus this morning, and Cheyenne was wearing the same clothes as last night. Then, Harry and Cheyenne were being grossly affectionate. Finally, Harry is now walking delicately as he makes himself breakfast, his footsteps merely soft whispers against the wooden floor. He has also clipped back the top half of his shoulder-length hair, presumably after it being in his face or tugged at all night.
"So you let him into your pants, huh?" Louis says when Harry turns around with a banana and coffee. He tries to keep his face neutral, but he feels like Harry knows he is hurt regardless.
"So what if I did?" Harry softly mumbles. Niall appears from the bunks with a blanket wrapped around him, and he sits in the middle of the couch. Harry immediately cuddles up to his friend's left side so he doesn't have to see Louis or sit by him. Niall opens his big blanket up to Harry, who appreciatively takes part of it before taking a sip of his coffee.
"He can't be what you need, he's almost 20 years older than you." Louis' search history may be filled with Cheyenne Jackson and Cheyenne Jackson related searches, but it has only given him all the more reason not to like the man. He's older, attractive, nice, and a talented actor; no wonder Harry went home with him.
Harry simply ignores Louis' comment, and Niall silently decides to keep himself out of the drama.
It breaks Louis' heart to know that Harry slept with Cheyenne, and that Cheyenne got to have Harry for a night. But no matter how Louis feels about the situation, he can't do anything about it, because Harry isn't his anymore; Harry can do whatever he wants.
-
Long nights, daydreams
Sugar and smoke rings, I've been a fool
But strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you
Headlights, on me
Racing to 60, I've been a fool
Louis' mind is racing and he feels jittery, and it's not because of the adrenaline rush of tonight's concert.
After Cheyenne and Harry's lives collided a few nights ago, Louis' pining for Harry has made him a wreck. However, he can't do much about his feelings towards Harry, and even worse, he still has to see him nearly every day, since they have the same job and the same friends.
They were so young when they first got together, and Louis curses himself nearly every day for letting him go so easily. They thought they could live without each other, but it has become glaringly obvious to Louis that that is something he cannot do. He can't move on, even though Harry seems to have. For Louis, Harry is the one. His one. His soulmate.
Louis crawls out of his warm, cozy bunk and starts for the living room section of the bus when he hears someone talking in a hushed voice. In the dim light, he sees Harry curled up on the couch with a blanket over his bent legs.
"I need my beauty sleep, you're keeping me up," Harry quietly says into his phone. Louis freezes at the end of the bunks, almost holding his breath to keep Harry from hearing him standing right behind him. "You can come visit me. You can come backstage and everything, and you can watch me on stage..." Louis assumes Harry is talking to Cheyenne, so he lets out a defeated sigh and walks into the living room. Harry jumps, looking a little startled at Louis' sudden presence. "I have to go, Liam just told me to shut up." Harry hangs up the phone, then watches Louis with tired eyes as he sits at the kitchen booth. "What are you doing up?" He wonders.
"Couldn't sleep," Louis simply shrugs. "Why are you up?"
"I was talking to a friend," Harry quietly responds, adjusting his position so he is propped up on his side, facing Louis.
"Some friend, making you stay up this late just to talk," Louis says.
"I don't mind."
"Why'd you sleep with him?" Louis asks after a silent pause.
"Why does anybody sleep with anybody?" Harry asks, slightly pouting his lips and mindlessly picking at a loose string on his blanket.
"Usually if they're horny or lonely," Louis pointedly says. "Or if they're just drunk and needy."
"Louis," Harry pouts, almost whining. "I've had a long night, can we be done?" He balls up his blanket in his arms and starts for his bunk. Before fully retreating to his bed, Harry turns around and looks at Louis with glassy eyes. "People sleep together if they're in love, too. Or heartbroken." With that, he slides back the curtain to his bunk and pulls it shut, leaving Louis alone with his guilt over having upset Harry.
It was not Louis' aim to upset Harry, but he couldn't help it as the rude words were coming out of his mouth. He will always see Harry as his soulmate, and it pains him to see his soulmate finding comfort in another heart.
-
But strawberries and cigarettes always taste like
Blue eyes, black jeans
Lighters and candy, I've been a fool
But strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you
Despite having a rough night thanks to Cheyenne and Louis, Harry is in good spirits today. The boys are currently sitting around set and waiting for technical difficulties with the microphones to be fixed so their interview can begin. After Harry gets his hair done, he bides his time by stealing snacks off of Niall's plate.
"I got more this time since I know you're gonna keep taking some," Niall says as he sits down. Harry chuckles and reaches for a strawberry, then freezes. In his mind, he is suddenly transported to New Year's Eve, 2013.
He vividly remembers eating strawberries and shotgunning smoke from Louis' cigarette. They were in love and didn't care who knew it; they were on top of the world. Harry felt so secure and safe every day, because he knew Louis was in his corner no matter what. However, none of that is true now.
"Ew," Harry says, retracting his hand.
"But they're your favorite," Niall says, looking slightly confused at Harry's sudden change of mood.
"They're not my favorite anymore," Harry grumbles. He solemnly glances across the room at Louis, who places an unlit cigarette between his lips before walking with Zayn to an exit. Frustration sparks somewhere deep within him, and his eyes begin to water. He quickly blinks away his unwanted tears and reminds himself you're not with him. Even if you want to be, you're not. Louis' moving on, so suck it up.
-
And even if I run away
Give my heart a holiday
Still strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you
It is a particularly quiet night in Louis' solitary hotel room. Liam has a cold, so he didn't want to go clubbing after their concert, and none of Louis' friends are with him. So, he takes his time showering, taking comfort in the hot, steamy shower before he is thrust back into the cold of his room; a few cigarettes warm him, but not much. Most of his belongings are laying around, since no one can tell him to pick up his stuff; he also doesn't have a hotel roommate anymore to make him want to be neat.
The longer he stays in the quiet, the more his mind wanders to where his heart is stuck. He can't tell if Harry is moving on with Cheyenne, or if Harry misses him as much as Louis misses him. Whatever the situation, Louis only makes it worse by picking apart his and Harry's relationship, and by scrolling through his camera roll to relive better times, times where he was with the person he loves.
Before he knows it, he is hugging a pillow to his chest and crying. Each video and picture of and with Harry feels like a knife to his heart. He needs his boy back, because he isn't sure how much longer he can keep living with part of himself missing. He can't stand to watch Harry move on with Cheyenne or anybody else, because Harry should be his. Harry is the only person he ever wants--Harry is the person he needs.
Louis tosses the pillow and phone aside before brokenly rushing to the door, grabbing his room key at the last second and not even bothering with shoes. He wipes the tears from his blurry eyes as he jogs down the hall to Harry's room.
His sporadic knocks on the door sound panicked. His lower lip trembles and he feels his body pulse with heat as he prays for Harry to open the door.
"What's wrong?" Harry immediately asks upon opening the door, furrowing his brows in a look of worry.
"I could go anywhere on Earth," Louis starts with a shaky voice, "I could go to Jamaica or fucking Antarctica but my heart would still be in one place," he laments. He confronts Harry as if they are in the middle of an argument, instead of them being by themselves in separate hotel rooms until moments ago.
Harry's lips are parted and he looks stunned. He stutters a little, not knowing whether to try and comfort Louis or to respond to his sudden confrontation.
-
You always leave me wanting more
I can't shake my hunger for
Strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you
Yeah, they always taste like you
You
Harry thought Louis was moving on. He tried to do the same with Cheyenne, but perhaps he was just filling a void that was left in him when he and Louis separated. He thought he would be alright without him, but now, as he sees Louis standing in front of him crying, he realizes he will never be fully okay unless he knows that Louis is okay.
"Louis..." Harry quietly starts. He has always assumed he would spend the rest of his life with Louis in some capacity, but he couldn't have anticipated their current fork in the road. Having Louis as a prominent figure in his life, to Harry, means that they would be lovers, not bitter exes. However, he also could not have predicted the possible end to his troubles to come so soon; it is almost too much for him to handle. "You're just drunk," he tentatively says.
"I haven't had anything to drink," Louis answers, wiping his tears and trying to collect himself. Harry's eyes fall to the floor, and he feels his heart sink.
"Goodnight, Louis," he softly says. He slowly closes the door, not brave enough to look Louis in the eye as he does so. Once he is sealed in his room, he stares at the door blankly, then inexplicably turns around, slides down it, and holds his hands over his mouth as he begins to sob.
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Long nights, daydreams
With that sugar and smoke rings
Always taste like you
It is almost impossible for Harry to believe that what just happened actually happened; Louis came back to him. The day he might do that had begun to infiltrate Harry's subconscious dreams, but now it has actually happened in real life.
Half of Harry's heart has been missing since he and Louis broke up, but it appears that he has a chance to feel whole again. Part of him is surprised at this, because he thought it would be harder to get back to Louis. Again, it appears that he was wrong.
After crying hard enough to give him a throbbing headache, Harry warily stands up and opens the door. Louis is no longer standing outside his door, nor does he see the boy when he peers down the long, desolate hallway.
Harry slowly takes a few steps away from his room and down the hallway, then hears the faint click of a door unlocking. He freezes in place, feeling a hot tear roll down his wet cheek. A few doors down, he sees another crying boy step into the hallway, presumably having the same idea as Harry. The boys immediately lock eyes; Louis now has nothing to say and Harry is still speechless.
Suddenly, Louis begins walking towards Harry. Harry speed walks to Louis, and moments later they are running to each other. When their bodies slam together, they wrap their arms around each other painfully tight while their legs try to keep them upright. They are holding onto each other like they will be wisked away by a violent current if either one lets go. Both boys are trembling and new tears fall from their eyes as their hearts return home, now complete and beating as one.
Louis is the first one to start pulling away, only for his hands to travel up to hold Harry's face as they passionately kiss. A quiet, relieved yet overwhelmed moan escapes Harry's lips as he finally gets to feel Louis' kiss again. The aftertaste of cigarettes that only Louis seems to have slowly creeps into Harry's taste buds, and his body feels a buzz of electricity. He is finally reuniting with everything familiar, with the unique pattern of sights, sounds, and touches that only come from Louis.
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Headlights, on me (and even if I run away)
Racing to 60, I've been a fool (and give my heart a holiday)
Still, strawberries and cigarettes always taste like
Blue eyes, black jeans (you always leave me wanting more)
Lighters and candy, I've been a fool (I can't shake my hunger for)
Strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you
The pair are still kissing and desperately holding on to each other when Harry takes tiny steps to lead them to Louis' room. Louis mournfully turns away to unlock his door, all the while Harry hugs him from behind and kisses his neck.
Louis' room is a tad disorganized, but that is the least of Harry's concerns right now; all he cares about is Louis. The older boy blindly presses Harry up against the door, and they start to kiss and hold each other once again. It feels like they are seeing the sun for the first time after a dark and depressing winter. The boys feel lighter, immeasurably happier, and like their futures just got a whole lot brighter.
Harry gently pushes back, moving them to the bed. Louis lays on his back, propping himself up on his elbows, and Harry straddles him before their insatiable hands and lips find their way back to each other's bodies.
"I'm never letting you go," Louis promises, speaking softly yet earnestly against the soft lips he has missed for far too long.
"Never again," Harry agrees. All of their unburned love lights a glowing fire of desire and passion in the hotel room. Finally being back with their soulmates is sweet and refreshing like strawberries, but the bitterness of wasted time and unnecessary hurt burns like cigarette smoke going down your throat and into your lungs. Neither of them can change the past, but they can make up for it in the present, because they are both whole again and have no plans to ever let go; perhaps fate really made it all worth it.
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what would you all like to read next from me? Topics, themes, dynamics, anything! I'll try to include everyone's ideas (that inspire me hehe) in the next one :)
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