"Wake up, sleepyhead!" Louis whisper-screamed.
Harry was still wrapped up in the blue-eyed boy's arms. He moved around, mumbling some incoherent words.
"No... 'm comfortable... fluffy," Harry murmured.
"What's fluffy, angel?" Louis asked.
"Mmm... you..."
Louis' heart did a little jump. Okay, not little. He kind of almost shit himself.
"O-oh," he replied.
Harry snuggled back into Louis, making the boy tighten his grip around him.
"You're soft. A-and smol," Harry whispered.
"Thank you," Louis decided not to let the small comment anger him, because the boy saying it was literally a sleepy noodle and he was too endeared to be mad. "You're very soft, too. Turn around, love."
Harry did so, making sure to stay in Louis' arms. When he turned around, his eyes were still closed.
Louis took this chance. He stared at Harry; he stared at the way his eyes twitched every so often, making his eyelashes flutter. He stared at every freckle on his face, every pimple, every crevice and dimple he had. He stared at his nose, his beautiful nose. He stared at his lips, my god, his lips. His lips were soft, and pink, and plump, and god if Louis didn't want to kiss those lips. Just once- just to see how they felt. He leaned in, ever so slowly, wanting just one second to taste Harry's lips- to taste Harry. He leaned in just a little bit more...
And Harry opened his eyes.
Louis immediately moved back, only an inch or two, but his eyes were wide enough to tell Harry what had just happened.
"Good morning, love," Harry whispered.
Louis swallowed. "G-good morning, angel."
Harry swallowed nervously, although he would never let it show, and slipped one arm out from Louis' hold. He felt so warm, so soft, so... safe, in Louis' arms. He never wanted to leave this feeling. It felt warm, and comforting, like the world could blow up but he would be okay, they would be okay, all because he was in his arms.
He knew this feeling.
It was home.
Louis felt like home.
And Harry wanted to go home.
Which was okay.
Because he is home.
Harry let his free hand roam around Louis' upper chest, towards his collarbone, slowly making its way up to his cheek. He traced around with his pointer finger until his hand cupped his cheek, and he slowly brought them closer together. He leaned forward, and Louis did, too, until they were less than an inch apart, their lips almost touching. He put their noses together for just a second before pulling Louis' head down and whispering, "What do you want to do today?" in his ear before pulling away and turning around on the bed, smirking to himself.
All of the heat rushed to Louis' cheeks, and chest, and... somewhere else. He tried to steady his breathing, because oh my god Harry just teased him and he kind of loved it and why can't he breathe. Harry got into, what he calls, "little spoon position" and awaited the warm feeling of Louis. The older boy sighed and complied, laying back down to wrap his arms around Harry.
"It's our last day," Louis murmured as he stroked Harry's naked arm.
"It's four days until your birthday," he replied.
"I know. But what do you want to do today?" he answered, asking the question that Harry just had.
"Well, we're leaving tomorrow at seven, and our flight is at nine, so we should probably pack now, because we're checking out so early."
"But... I don't want to get up," Louis murmured. He was much too comfortable having Harry in his arms.
"I know. What time is it?"
Louis looked over at the clock that lay on the nightstand. "It's 10:32," he said.
"At night?" Harry asked.
"Yes. It is ten at night, we slept through the whole day! That's why it's sunny out," Louis rolled his eyes.
"I was just trying to be funny," he pouted.
Louis mentally slapped himself with a shovel for being sarcastic with this little fucking flower. This boy is a frog, baby lion, and a literal flower. He cries when someone steps on an ant. He blushes and giggles when he receives compliments, and he bites on his straw and it looks so adorable and Louis is so, totally, completely in love with him. Wait... what?! No, he isn't. Yes, he is.
"Aw, Hazzy, don't worry, you were funny. You are funny. I'm just grouchy because it's really early and I'm tired," Louis soothed.
Louis doesn't really know what's going on in his mind, because normally, he is sassy and rude and aggressive. But for some reason, whenever he's with Harry, this tiny little delicate dandelion, he turns on full soft. He would take a bullet for Harry, honestly. He would do anything to protect this little baby from the cruel world that lay ahead them. And he doesn't fucking know why.
Meanwhile, in Harry's head, there's a lot of freaking out going on. Because he knows Louis, and he knows that this is not normal for him. Louis is sassy, and he will take any chance he gets to make a snappy comeback. So why, why the hell, is he being so nice? Now that he's thinking about it, it makes sense. Louis' always been kinder, gentler, nicer with Harry. And he doesn't fucking know why.
"Yay," Harry whispered.
Louis swooned. And choked. And died. He said "yay". The baby flower said "yay". What kind of twenty-one year old man does that? Harry, that's who.
Harry is a delicate flower who must not be exposed to the real world. He loves strawberry milk, because it is pink. He wears flowy shirts with flowers on them, his favorite color is pink, he cries when someone steps on a flower, and he giggles at his own jokes. He giggles. He cries when he gets tattoos and he blushes when someone compliments him.
Louis is a whole other story. His favorite color is dark red, but black is a close second. He laughs when someone falls (as long as they aren't really hurt), he gets tattoos so he can feel the needle pierce his skin, and he loves rock bands. He wears all black and band tees, he loves the look of blood, and he will never miss the opportunity to snap at someone. He is not a soft person... except with Harry.
"Oh my god," Louis whispers, because he knows what they are going to do today.
"What?" Harry asks.
Louis jumps out of bed, but not before pressing a kiss to Harry's bare shoulders. He throws open the drawer and pulls out, can you guess? A band tee and black skinny jeans. He throws them on and rushes over to his Vans, without socks, of course. Harry is still laying in bed, completely confused.
"What're you doing?" he slurs.
"I'm getting dressed because I am taking you somewhere, now come on, sleepy head, get up!" Louis says, rushing over to pick Harry up and set him down in front of the dresser.
"Where are we going?" he asks.
"That is for me to know and you to find out."
Harry rolls his eyes and opens his drawer, pulling out this really cool shirt that he bought at the shops in Florida. It's tie-dye and it says "hype" on it. He pulls out a pair of black skinnies and white high-top Converse.
He puts on a few of his rings and a gold watch in record timing. He looks at Louis, who looks back and grins as wide as he could.
Louis rushes to get a pen and paper. When he finds both of those things, he rips off a piece of paper, quickly scribbling words on it. He finishes and hands it to Harry.
Harry takes it and reads it aloud. "Louis bets Harry that Harry won't match."
Harry thinks for a second. "What does that mean?"
"Nothing, my love. You'll see very soon."
Harry just rolls his eyes and smiles a dimple smile, because he is just so fond of the older boy.
"Let's go, baby!" He says, linking his arm with Harry's.
"Baby?" both boys think, while one of them is swooned, and the other is slapping himself for being so stupid.
They walk out of the hotel room and down to the lobby, where Louis shoots a smirk to the man at the desk and Harry waves politely. The man looks at them and smiles before running to the back and screaming, "Larry, bitches!" to his coworkers. They all cheer.
Louis gets into the driver seat of the car, starting to get used to driving on the wrong side of the road. Or, should he say, the right side of it.
Louis knows where he's going. He's seen it multiple times while they drove passed it, and he has always wanted to check it out, but they've never had the time. And now they do.
It is a quick drive, since the place is only a few minutes from the hotel. When they pull up to the tattoo shop, Harry is a little confused.
"I don't... why are we here, Lou?" he asks.
"You'll see."
They walk into the small shop together, and from the inside, it doesn't look very welcoming. The walls are all black, and the counter is black. The chairs in the back are red, and there is a hallway that leads to rooms where the tattoos are done. The piercings are done on the chairs. Louis feels at home already.
"Hi, what're you here for? Surely, it can't be tattoos. You both have enough to fill up eight bodies," the woman at the desk jokes.
"Well, it looks like we're filling up nine, because I'm here for a lip piercing and a tattoo, and this boy right here is here for a tattoo as well," Louis says.
Harry chokes. "What?" he struggles to get out.
"Didn't I mention it, Hazza? We're getting some matching tattoos, you know, to add to the collection," he winks.
"I- I... um... I-" he starts.
"Do you not want to, because I'd be fine getting one on my own. It'd just look kind of weird, having that tattoo just sitting there all alone. Nowhere, or, really, no one to call it home."
"I... um..." he starts, feeling horribly self-conscious, seeing as both Louis and the woman are staring at him. "I'll... I'll get one," he says.
Louis grins. "Perfect."
"Wait, Lou, you're getting a lip piercing?" Harry asks.
"Yup. Don't you think I'd look hot?" he responds.
Harry's mouth goes dry. "I, uh, I mean, yeah. Yeah, you would," he coughs.
"I think you would, too," The woman, Amy, says.
"Woah there... Amy... slow your roll. I don't exactly play for the team of... vaginas..." he practically spits.
"Yeah. And I don't exactly play for the team of... dicks..." she responds.
"Touche."
"So, we're going to be doing the piercing first, so we can spend more time on the tattoos. That okay?" she asks.
"Sure."
She leads them over to one of the red chairs, and Louis sits down in it. Harry still doesn't really know what's going on. He's just staring into a blank space, no expression on his face.
"Hey, Haz, you good?" Louis asks.
"Hm? O-oh. Yeah, I... I'm good."
Truth be told, Harry is even more nervous about Louis getting a lip ring than Louis is himself. What if he pulls on it when he wants to self-harm? What if it falls out, and brings his beautiful lips with it? Wait... what?
Louis grabs his hand. "You sure? You seem pretty scared. Don't worry, it won't hurt you at all," he winks.
Harry sits down in another red chair, the one right next to him. The woman goes into the back to grab some of the tools, and Harry takes his chance when she does so.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asks.
"What do you mean? My lip ring? I've wanted to get one for a while. I think it'd look good on me, and I really want one."
"Okay, I just don't want you to regret it."
"Haz. I have fifty tattoos. I don't regret much," Louis says. "I regret not being with you." rings out in his mind, causing him to blush and shake the thought away.
Harry notices, but he decides not to say anything.
"Anyways, are you okay with getting the tattoo? I didn't think you would mind, considering you have so many, but if you don't want to, I'm sure as hell not going to make you. And you don't have to do that thing where you pretend like you're okay with something but really you're freaking out on the inside- yes, Hazza, you do that- because you don't have to be brave for me. Do you want to?" he asks.
Harry thinks for a second before answering. "Yeah, I want to. I do, I really do."
Louis smiles a crinkle smile. "Good."
Amy comes back with the tool kit, and Louis gets comfortable in his seat, because why not? Meanwhile, Harry is on the edge of his. He's, like, four seconds away from having a panic attack. But he would never say that out loud. However, Louis knows his best friend, because he senses the fear radiating off the boy, and he leans over and grabs his hand, holding onto it.
Harry smiles and calms down a bit. Amy lifts up the needle and asks, "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
"What are your names, anyways?" she asks before starting.
"I'm Louis Tomlinson, and this lad over here is Harry Styles. Charming, isn't he?"
"He is. Are you dating?"
"Not yet," Louis replies, causing Harry to, actually, choke on his spit. He excuses himself and walks out of the shop.
"Oh my god," Harry thinks as he catches his breath, once he is outside the shop. "Not yet? What does that mean? Is he going to ask me out? Do I even want that? Oh my god, it's a puppy. Hi, puppy! Oh, you're so cute. Louis would love you. Oh, yeah, Louis. I don't even know if I like him. I mean, he is literally the prettiest person alive, and he's so small and soft and cute and he is really hot, and the idea of kissing him is, like, a really good one. And whenever he compliments me or says something nice or touches me or anything, I get this fluttery feeling in my tummy and it is the exact same feeling that I got when I was in love with Matt in Grade Eleven. Holy shit, am I in love with Louis? Even better, is he in love with me?" Harry paces back and forth before he hears the door open, and the bell chimes, signaling the fact that, yes, someone did walk out of the door.
"Haz, you okay?" Louis asks.
"M- me? Y- yeah, I'm okay. I'm good. Great, actually. J- just great," he says, plastering a fake smile across his face that is all but convincing.
"Uh-huh. Sure you are, love. What are you thinking about?"
"Don't you have to get back to Amy?"
"Eh. She's in the washroom, anyways. I've got time. So, Hazzy, what are you thinking about?" Louis asks.
"I just- I, um..." he starts.
"Look, if you're upset with what I said in there, about us dating, I'm sorry. I was just joking around and if I made you feel uncomfortable, I'll stop. I won't do it again, promise."
"No, Lou, it's not- ugh," he groans, not able to get his words out due to his anxiety. "It's not- It's not the fact that you said it, it's the fact that when you did say it, I felt... I... I don't know. I felt like the love of my life had just asked me out. And I don't... I don't know why I feel like that," Harry says.
Louis grabs his hands, holding them in front of him. "Harry," he starts. "It's okay. You can't control your feelings. You feel something and you don't know what you feel and it's okay. It's perfectly okay. Look, I'm here. I am here and I am always going to be here. So, when you figure out whatever it is you need to figure out, I'll be here, waiting. For you. I'll be waiting for you so we can do this, whatever this is, together. Because I think that's what you want. And... and I think... I think I know that's what I want," Louis says, finally confirming the last sentence.
Harry nods, unable to speak. Louis has this amazing way of knowing exactly what Harry is thinking, and he can put those thoughts into words in a way that he just can't. And that's why he is feeling those feelings.
Louis stands on his tippy toes and cups Harry's cheeks, leaning up to give him a kiss on that cheek. However, he managed to kiss not on his cheek, but on the very corner of his lips. He would call it an accident, but his body, and Harry, wouldn't. Oh, who is he kidding, it wasn't an accident. But god, if the boys didn't feel that electrical current shooting through their veins, just at the smallest touch of their lips. And it wasn't even their lips, it was Louis' lips on the corner of Harry's mouth. 99% of his mouth was on his cheek. But they still feel it. They can't get it out of their minds.
They walk back into the shop, a bit more sure of themselves, and they sit down in the red chairs. Amy is standing there, ready to work on Louis' lip.
They begin.
•••
"You ready?" Amy asks, after she sanitized her tools.
"I'm ready," Louis responds, grasping onto Harry's hand.
She takes the needle and slowly puts it through Louis' lip, lining it up perfectly with the dot she drew on there. Louis tightened his grip on Harry's hand, not by a lot, but enough that Harry wondered how strong he was trying to be.
"It's okay, Lou. You're okay," he says.
She pulls the long needle out through the other side of his lip, in his mouth, and quickly replaces it with one side of the ring. She sets the needle down and pulls the ring up over his lip, latching it into place. She wipes it with a sterilizing sheet and makes sure it is perfectly in place before stepping away from Louis and handing him a mirror.
Louis takes it with his free hand and looks at himself.
"Oh, damn, I look good. That didn't hurt at all," he smirks.
"Lemme look at you," Harry says, because Louis is turned in a way that he can't see him.
Louis turns around and god, if all the blood didn't rush straight to Harry's lower region. He looks so hot. The light silver contrasts beautifully off of his sinfully pink lips, and Harry wants to suck the ring into his mouth. Yeah, that's a thought going through his head. And it's going through Louis', too.
"You know what," Harry starts, getting out of his seat. He motions for Louis to get up, and he does, the younger boy quickly replacing his presence "I'll take one of those."
Louis freezes. "A- are you sure, Hazza?" he asks.
Harry thinks for a second before answering. "I'm sure."
"Alright," Amy says. "Lucky for you, I always sterilize two sets of tools at once, just in case. I guess you're my just in case. You ready?"
Harry nods. "I'm ready."
Louis quickly sits in the seat Harry was just sitting in, and now he knows why he was so worried. Harry is a flower, and flowers wilt if they get stepped on. Or, in this case, get pierced.
Louis leans over the seat and watches Harry intently, grabbing onto his hand and grasping it.
"It's going to be okay, Hazzy. You'll be fine."
Harry lets out a huge breath. Amy puts the dot on his lip, then goes to grab the needle. "You sure?" she asks.
Harry nods. She smiles and presses the needle to his lip, slowly putting it in. Harry's eyes squeeze shut in pain, and he grips Louis' hand even tighter, making their knuckles turn white. But it's okay. It's all okay. Louis would get shot over having his baby- or, Harry- be in pain.
She does the same thing as she did with Louis, and replaces the needle with the ring, latching it shut. A few unwanted tears escape from Harry's squeezed-shut eyes, and Louis quickly wipes them away. She wipes the ring and backs away, causing Harry to open his eyes. She hands him a mirror and he smiles at her. He holds the mirror up in front of him and gasps.
"Oh my god. I look... wow. I don't look bad," he says.
"Let me se- oh my god. Haz... you look... amazing. Incredible," Louis says, his heart stopping. Harry looks stunning, and he wants him to know that.
"Alright, boys, let's get started on these tattoos!" she says, happily.
They get up out of their chairs and she leads them through the back hallway and into a room where a large man is sitting and reading a magazine.
"Hey, Scott, we've got two boys here who would like matching tattoos. That's your specialty," Amy says.
Scott sets the magazine down and examines the boys. It doesn't take long before he comes up with something.
"I think you should do-"
"Actually, I already have one in mind," Louis says.
"Alright, kid, what've you got?"
"Well, I wanted to take the dagger and rose tattoo and separate them, and I'd take the dagger, because I'm more sharp and sassy, and he'd get the rose, because he's a literal flower, all soft and mushy," Louis says.
"Kid," Scott starts. "That's just what I was thinking."
•••
Once the boys are sitting down in the long, black chairs that are set in the middle of the small room, Amy and Scott begin. They wanted to get them done at the same time.
"Alright, so we're doing a dagger and rose in the same spot on your left arms?" Scott asks.
Louis hums as a "yes", and they both nod.
"Alright."
The boys are unable to hold hands, since their left arms are being worked on, but they give each other a reassuring smile. They would hold hands if they could.
The machines are turned on, and the needle is pressed to their skin. And Harry is trying his absolute best not to cry.
He has cried every time he's gotten a tattoo, which is about sixty times. He's trying to show the three people in the room, especially Louis, that he is strong. That he isn't a baby.
"Hey, Haz, it's okay to cry, you know. It hurts, it does. You can cry," Louis says, because, once again, he proves that he can read Harry's mind.
"Yeah, kid, you can cry. It's not like we're going to make fun of you or something. And besides, I've had people throw up on me when the needle touched their skin. A few tears ain't got nothing on me," Scott says.
"I- I'm good. I d-don't need to c-cry," he says, his lip wobbling.
"Okay, well, if you do, don't be afraid to," Louis responds.
There is a few minutes of a comfortable silence, until a low, low sound comes out from Harry. It's a sob, or, a stifled sob. He finally lets the tears fall from his face, and there aren't many, really. Just a few tears that slip down his face.
"Aw, my baby. It's okay. You're okay," Louis soothes.
"Y- yeah, I know. It just, it j-just stings a b-bit."
"Don't worry," Amy says. "I'm almost done with yours."
Ten minutes later, and they are both finishing up their tattoos. Amy sets her needle down and examines her work, and Scott follows suit a few seconds later. They wrap the plastic around their arms and stand up. Harry and Louis do the same after a minute or two.
Harry wipes the tears with his free hand, and once the hand is put down, Louis takes advantage of it and grabs it, intertwining their fingers. Harry blushes a deep red and feels that familiar bubbly feeling in his stomach.
They walk out of the room with Amy and Scott, who lead them to the counter so they can pay. As Harry reaches for his wallet, the older boy slaps his hand away.
"No. My treat," he says.
"No, I want to at least pay for my tattoo and piercing," Harry responds.
"No, no, no. No."
"It'll be a hundred for each tattoo, and fifty for each piercing. So, the total is three-hundred bucks," Scott says, ringing it up on the cash register.
Harry chokes on his spit. "I am so paying," he says.
Before he can even register it, Louis is handing his card over and Amy is swiping it.
"I- I can't believe you just did that," Harry says.
Ignoring him, Louis talks to the man and woman at the counter.
"Thank you both so much," he says.
"Of course. Now, here's two bottles of solution and some instructions for the piercings, and I would tell you what to do with the tattoos, but I'm pretty sure you both have that down by now," Amy says, handing Louis a bag and his credit card.
"Thanks."
They wave goodbye and exit the shop. It is now around one, and both boys are starving.
"We can get lunch," Harry says. "But I'm paying."
•••
They find a cute little cafe and eat there, and yes, Harry does pay. They decide that they should go back to the hotel to pack their clothes.
Once they get there, they are careful to avoid hitting their tattoos. They quickly put all of their things in their bags, making sure to leave out an outfit for the flight tomorrow.
"A little telly?" Louis asks once they finish.
"Sure."
They lay on one of the beds, making sure to take off their shoes, and turn on the telly. Louis rests his head on Harry's chest, and he massages his fingers in between his feathery locks of hair. He swears he can hear Louis purr.
"I," Louis starts. "Really, really, really like you."
Harry's heart stops. "In what way?" he dares to ask.
Louis thinks for a minute. "In the way you secretly want me to."
And he's right. Harry does want him to. Because he likes it when the person he's in love with like him back, even if he doesn't even know he's in love with him yet. Except, now, he's pretty sure he knows. Maybe.
•••
"I got you something," Harry says, after three mindless hours of cuddling and watching the telly. It is now 5:06 p.m.
"You did? What is it?" Louis asks.
Harry moves from his position cuddling Louis, even though he really doesn't want to, and walks to the dresser, where he didn't pack one little thing. He pulls out the jar that he made late, late at night, the same night that was just hours after Louis died.
He walks back to the bed and sits on it, cross-legged. He holds the item behind his back and says, "Happy day two of your five day birthday."
"Hazza... oh my god..." Louis says. He's already so happy and he hasn't even gotten the present yet.
Harry holds it out in front of him, and Louis takes it, examining it. He looks up at Harry for confirmation.
"It's a jar," he starts. "It's full of little papers that I wrote on. Each one is in a little plastic bag, and they have their own theme. See, one of them has 'read one when you're sad' on it. Inside that bag are tons of reasons to love yourself, and reasons why I love you. Another one is 'read one when you want to harm/kill yourself', and that one was really hard for me to do. I cried while writing those, because I don't get why you would want to hurt yourself, your beautiful self. So many people, including me, love you so much. Another one is 'read one if you're sick' and 'read one if you're missing me'. There are probably fifty in each bag. It took me a while to do it, but it's worth it. Do... do you like it?" Harry says, looking at Louis directly in the eye.
Louis is quiet for at least twenty seconds. Harry is beginning to get worried that he doesn't like it. That is, before he sees the tears slip past his cheeks and onto the bed.
"I... I love it," Louis whispers. "I love it so fucking much. And I love you even more."
Louis scoots over to Harry and straddles his lap, giving him a hug and whispering little "thank you's" in his ear. Harry smiles and wraps his arms around him.
Louis finally pulls back, still straddling Harry, and kisses his right cheek, right next to his nose. He can feel Harry's cheeks heat up with so many feelings (love, compassion, embarrassment) on his lips.
"It's funny, you know," Louis starts, looking Harry in the eye. "I can read all of these notes in the jar, yet I cannot figure out a way to read you. I can't read your expression, or your feelings. It'd be much easier if you just told me, or wrote it to me, or something. Just so I can figure it out."
Harry thinks on what he is about to do, before saying a giant "fuck it" in his mind and getting up off the bed, walking over to the dresser that has the pen and paper on it. He quickly writes something on it before setting the pen back down and ripping out that piece of paper. He looks at it before walking back to the bed and sitting on it.
Harry hands the piece of paper to Louis, almost wincing as he does not know what to expect.
Louis, knowing their system by now, knows to read it out loud. So he does.
"Harry bets Louis that Louis won't love him like he loves Louis." The words come flowing out of Louis' mouth before he chuckles and looks up at the impatiently waiting Harry.
"Oh, Harry," he says. "You lost that bet a long time ago."
•••
A/N:
"In the way you secretly want me to."
DAAAAAAAAMMMNNNNN THIS CHAPTER.
I actually really, really like this chapter lol. I just like my writing and what I wrote about.
Oh, and the pictures. I like those, too.
Did I surprise you? If so, get used to it, because those are going to be around a lot more often. You're welcome.
It's 12:05 a.m lmao same. I'm literally listening to One Direction and Zayn and damn it feels weird saying those too differently.
I listened to the album today and holy shit. Holy shit.
My master list of favorites:
1. Fool For You and Like I Would
2. It's You and Pillowtalk
3. Truth and Take it Off
4. Bright
I didn't know how to feel on the 25th because I was hella sad and crying all day because he left, but I was also really happy because of the album. I was crying tears of joy and pain.
Also I changed some previous chapters to make it so they didn't have the rose and dagger before this one, so if you're confused just go back to chapter 16 or something.
I actually wasn't even going to have Harry get the lip ring until I saw that picture while looking up punk edits of Louis lmao.
Alright.
Hope you enjoyed the chappie.
All the love.
Zoe xx
INSTAGRAM: hoeforlarries/larryforthenight