Louis watched colorful shades of light flicker across the curves and slopes on Harry's face. Harry was washed in light from the television, shadows swallowing the good side of his face. He was the light, always the sun, always brilliant, always capturing people's attention. Some might even say Harry was undeniably beautiful.
At this point, Harry was well aware of Louis' presence. Harry knew because he always seemed to know whenever Louis was near just like Louis knew too. It was an instinct. Harry flicked the television off, sighing and setting the remote control down.
"I'm sorry, Tommo. I didn't mean it."
"S'alright."
Louis hung his head low and made his way to sit down next to Harry on the sofa. Everything was silent. Louis palmed his sweaty hands on the tops of his thighs, leaning back on the sofa.
"You know, I broke my back when I was seventeen. I was almost paralyzed," Louis spoke softly. Harry looked at Louis, his whole attention drawn to him. "And Liam spent that whole summer with me in my room watching movies every day. All my friends went out to the beach or went out to chase girls, but he just sat there with me the whole time."
Louis exhaled a long breath he didn't know he was holding in. Here in the dark, it felt like he could be himself and share his confessions. He didn't have to be a lad or try to make everybody laugh. He could be truly one hundred and ten percent himself. Harry always made Louis feel comfortable.
"I can't leave her alone when she needs me even when they're gone."
Harry offered Louis a small smile, something about the way his lips curved made Louis want to memorize every line and every dip.
"I dug up some of their old home movies 'cause, you know, I just wanted to hear their voices. See them a minute, you know? And, um, I've found this one. It's a gem. You gotta see this."
Harry raised the remote control and flicked the television back on, unpausing the video on the screen.
A grainy, blurry picture of Liam and Zayn came into view. It made Louis' chest constrict at the sight of his friends, almost real but still untouchable. He needed to stop imagining that Liam and Zayn would come back into his life. It was impossible; they were dead.
Once the video started playing, the picture focused and became clear. Zayn walked into the freshly painted room, carrying Isabella in his arms while Liam babbled excitedly.
"Ta-da! Pretty great, huh? I went with the lavender and then the blue sky like we talked about."
"When did you paint this room?"
"I did it when you were at the adoption agency. I wanted to surprise you."
Zayn's eyebrows pinched, his entire features turning sour.
"You were supposed to do it three days ago. It smells like paint fumes in here."
Louis smirked. He was unfamiliar at seeing this side of Liam's and Zayn's marriage. They were utterly perfect together and it was almost frustrating how good they were for each other. Liam became stronger for both of them and even though Zayn had a façade of being dark and mysterious, he became soft marshmallow fluff whenever Liam was around. Liam was Zayn's knight in shining armor and all Zayn would paint for months was kind, hazel eyes.
Louis had never seen Liam and Zayn fight in the flesh and it surprised him to see them argue like normal human beings. He crossed his arms against his chest and leaned back on the sofa, Harry mirroring his movements. They simultaneously smiled at each other, both suppressing bigger smiles as they continued to watch the home video.
"It's been drying for twelve hours."
"It has not been drying long enough if I can smell—"
"Really? Why are you being so critical right now?"
"She can't sleep in the bedroom tonight."
"It's not even wet. I wouldn't bring a baby into a wet room."
"Of course it's not wet, but you think this won't smell for days afterwards?"
"It won't, it's totally aired out. Do you know how much work I put into this?"
"You didn't do any of this." Zayn flicked his hand in the air dramatically, his voice drawn tight. "When have you painted a cloud in your life?"
"I oversaw the work that was being done."
"You oversaw the work?"
"Yeah, I planned it."
"The one thing you said you would do, you oversaw?"
"I got creative with it." Liam flapped his arms in the air almost comically, bellowing his frustrations. "The bloke came in and looked at all of it and I said, "Let's do the clouds!""
"This is ridiculous. She can't sleep in here."
"Of course she can! Move the crib. This is her room. Where else is she—"
Harry shut off the television once more. He was pursuing his lips downwards in that endearing way of his when he tried hard not to laugh. Louis crossed his leg over his lap, his eyes squinting into half-slits.
Louis' voice was amused when it came out to say, "So what you're saying is that it's okay that we're horrible parents...and we want to kill each other half the time."
"Two thirds actually." Harry smiled, the room suddenly feeling a whole lot brighter. He closed his mouth, a solemn expression shadowing his eyes and lips. "I think we just have to stop trying to fit ourselves into their lives."
"I hate this place."
Louis shook his head, his eyes surveying the house as if it was the first time he was actually seeing it. To be fair, it was, considering he never took the time to really take in the atmosphere since every time he tried to do so, all he could hear were Liam's and Zayn's echoing laughs.
"It's like a mausoleum in here. There's pictures of them everywhere." Louis pointed to a cowboy painting hanging up on the wall. "I really hate that cowboy painting."
The cowboy's creepy smile stretched from ear to ear as if he was the Joker himself. His crooked smile sent shivers down Louis' spine.
"It really is creepy, right?"
"Yeah, I want it out."
"If we're gonna live here, we have to stop tiptoeing around like they're coming back soon. They're not coming back."
Harry's mouth tilted downwards in a sad pout. That won't do. Louis looped one arm around Harry's shoulder and pulled him back until Harry was flush against Louis' chest, every part of their bodies touching. Harry rested the back of his head on Louis' shoulder, a small smile slipping onto his lips. Much better.
The next morning, they set out to redecorate the entire house. They started with the pictures framed on the wall, they were so many of them, and it hurt to take down the constant reminder that this house didn't belong to them. That it once used to be a home.
They replaced the disturbing cowboy painting with a photo of the three of them they took at Isabella's first birthday party. It's lovely. Louis wiggled his finger underneath Picture Harry's nose and Harry smacked Louis' shoulder, cackling that hyena laugh of his. That sound is even lovelier.
Louis finally gave up his freedom and parked his joyride in the garage, covering his beloved motorcycle, Beautiful Beatrice, with a blanket with only an ounce of hesitation. He was resolutely saying good bye to his bachelor pad lifestyle.
After they were done, they made some fresh squeezed lemonade and hung up a hammock big enough for two out in the backyard where they soaked up the oncoming summer sun. They laid together in the hammock and sipped their lemonades, sharing stories in the bright light. It was starting to feel a lot like home.
"Stop thinking."
"Hmm?"
"You're doing that thing that you do where you zone out and think. Your nose gets all twitchy."
Louis quirked a smile when Harry bopped him on the nose. He shooed Harry's hand away, a quiet smile settling on his lips. It became clear to him then that they knew each other in ways he couldn't comprehend. It could be a tentative smile or an eyebrow raise and Harry would know exactly what Louis was thinking without any words being said. Louis wasn't sure how he felt about that.
"Do you think we're doing the right thing for Isabella? I mean, what if she was better off with another family who wanted her and cared for her?"
"Eleanor got in your head, didn't she?"
Louis sniffed, turning his head to admire Harry's profile. The rays from the sunlight illuminated Harry's face in a soft glow. The tips of Harry's eyelashes were painted a muted goldenrod color, specks of golden olive shining in the bright green of his eyes. Louis gulped, his mouth suddenly feeling dry.
"All I know is that together, Isabella, you and me are a family. That's all we have. And it's more than enough."
Louis nodded, letting Harry's words zip through him like bolts of electricity, setting every fibre of his being on fire. He felt warm fingertips slide on the underside of his wrist where his pulse was beating rapidly. Harry stopped before they reached Louis' fingers, his touch so damn gentle.
"Do you..." Harry started saying softly then stopped abruptly. He tried again. "Do you think Eleanor's pretty?"
"Who?"
"Eleanor from social services."
Louis blinked confusedly into the sun. He frowned at Harry, who was looking away with his cheeks tinted pink. Harry seemed oddly shy all of a sudden.
"Where's this coming from?"
Harry gave a measly one-shouldered shrug.
Louis finally settled on, "She's not really my type."
Harry turned his head to the side to face Louis, gasping a bit when he realized how close they were. The tip of Louis' upturned, button nose touched the tip of Harry's long, slender nose. A wet puff of breath spilled out of Harry's parted mouth.
"What is your type?"
A leggy, charming, Bambi-eyed, Christmas-y-nosed, awkward, hot mess.
Louis swallowed tightly and licked his lips. His face burned when Harry kept staring at his eyelashes, his collarbones, his mouth. He cupped Harry's cheek and left it there for a moment before pulling away, his fingertips twitching against his thigh now.
"When I find someone I fancy, I'll let you know."
Louis closed his shimmering eyelids, still able to feel Harry's lingering gaze on him. He imagined a world where they held hands, touched lips and Isabella was truly theirs. He smiled under the sun and imagined Harry's lips on his shoulder before his touch was gone, leaving a cold trail in its wake.
SUMMER
Louis blinked blearily. He scrubbed his eyes with his fists until everything came into focus, bits and pieces of last night's memories rewinding in his head. He remembered soft lips, warm hands and curly hair. He looked to his left and smiled to himself, a head full of curly, brown locks of hair sleeping on the bed next to him. He licked his lips in hot anticipation, his fingers already itching out to touch him.
The person grumbled in their sleep and rolled over to face Louis, the smile on his face faltering. A girl with choppy, stray curls was looking at Louis, her eyes big and brown. She looked warm and sedated and Louis hardly remembered her name or how they met, but he still smiled at her regardless.
"Morning, Tommo."
"Morning..."
What was her name again? Louis scrambled to think. Holly? Haley?
"Hazel."
Hazel smiled widely at Louis and kissed him softly on the lips. After a moment, Louis kissed Hazel back and hoped he wasn't sporting any morning breath. Judging by the way Hazel sucked on his bottom lip, Louis didn't think so.
Hazel rolled over on top of him, Louis surprised at the swift movement, and crawled down his body, the bed sheets covering her head. Louis clenched his legs at the abrupt lick up the shaft of his cock, a breath stuttering out of his open lips.
Okay, then. That...that's some good shit.
Louis relaxed on the mattress with loose limbs and let Hazel suck him whole.
After that great morning blowjob, (Louis had a knack at picking up one-night stands with a certain skill set) Louis walked Hazel to the front entrance with a satisfied smile playing on his lips. Hazel looked up at Louis, her hair still mussed from where Louis pushed her head to go down even further. If Louis was completely straight or liked girls better, Hazel would have been the exact type of girl he would fall for.
"Oh, and thank you for dinner. Next time it's my treat."
Hazel grinned at Louis, kissing him good bye on the cheek and closing the door behind herself. Louis smiled to himself, feeling fluid in his movements and ready to take on the world.
That really was a good morning blowjob.
From the hallway, Harry shook his head scornfully and scoffed. Harry crouched on the floor and held Isabella up, encouraging her to take tiny steps forward.
"Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot."
The pitter patter of Isabella's feet padded on the hardwood floor, Isabella babbling happily.
"Would you stop that already? She'll walk when she's got somewhere to go, alright?" Louis reprimanded, picking Isabella up by her arms.
"All books say that at fifteen months she should be walking or talking by now, but she's not doing either."
Harry frowned, pouting his lips at Isabella. Isabella laughed happily and clapped her hands, leaning forward and puckering her lips for a kiss. Harry humored her and gave her a fishy kiss on the mouth.
"And my kiss?" Louis asked teasingly, presenting his cheek. Harry rolled his eyes and gave Louis a light slap instead. Louis smiled playfully at Harry with squinted eyes. "You know, all books say you should be married with 2.2 kids and look at your life."
Harry rolled his eyes again but kept the smile on his face small.
"Oh, by the way, that poor girl thinks that she's going to dinner with you."
"And what's the alternative? "Bye, I'll never see you again."" Louis ridiculed, shooting Harry a lighthearted glare. "No, that would be mean."
Louis almost felt bad for Hazel but then again didn't. Hazel was smart enough that she understood their rendezvous consisted nothing more than a one-night stand.
"Where do you meet these women anyway?" Harry's eyebrows furrowed, his bottom lip jutting out. "I mean, if you're not with me and Bella, you're at work."
"I've been places," Louis said in a lilt with a satisfied smirk.
"Huh. Interesting." Harry nodded, bemused.
Later that afternoon when Harry was taking his Me Time bath, Louis was in the living room with Isabella, sitting on the floor with his hands extended behind himself and Isabella plopped beside him. Louis and Isabella finished watching an episode of a children's cartoon called Wonder Pets, Louis paying special attention to the show while Isabella was distracted by her toys.
"Wow, that was a really good episode. What I liked about Ming Ming was that even though they lost the game, she really learned something valuable like teamwork," Louis commented absentmindedly, looking over to see Isabella standing up on wobbly legs. "You know?"
Louis looked away just in time to miss Isabella taking her first tentative step.
"I didn't see that one coming. How about—" Louis did a double take and widened his eyes, astonished when Isabella took another cautious step. "Stay right—You stay right...Harry...Harry? Harry! She's standing. She's about to walk, get out here!"
"What? Now?" Harry called from the bathroom, soap suds covering his chin in a foamy Santa beard and sinking into bubbly water.
"Hurry up!"
"She can't walk now..." Harry said slowly, realization dawning on his features as he frantically shouted, "She can't walk now!"
"Well, she's about to! Hurry up and get down here!" Louis called out, putting his hands up as a makeshift stop sign to stop Isabella from walking again. "Wait, you stay right there."
"Wait."
Harry almost fell over the tub, promptly kneeing himself in the groin area. He inwardly groaned and reached for a fluffy towel, struggling to find his balance.
"Hurry up!"
"Coming, hold on, just stall her. I'm coming, I'm coming, hold up!" Harry yelled in panicky voice, running down the stairs in just a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair was sticky with bubble bath soap and water trickled on the nape of his neck and down his back. "Just stall her. Stall her!"
"I can't! How do you want me to stall her? How do I stall her?" Louis asked anxiously.
"Just stall her, I don't know!"
"What do you want me to—" In a moment of sheer panic, Louis pushed Isabella until she tumbled to the floor and onto her bum. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Okay."
Harry reached the living room a second too late, gripping his hurting foot from when he stepped on a toy truck along the way. He took in the sight of Isabella crying on the floor, Louis exasperatedly trying to soothe her by stroking her back.
"What did you do?"
"You told me to stall her, so I just I gave her a little shove."
"I told you to stall her, not traumatize her," Harry huffed and grabbed her, Isabella continuing to wail. Isabella rested her head on his chest, Harry cooing at her before angrily shouting at Louis, "Now she'll never walk!"
"Okay, this is not my fault!"
"What did the bad man do?" Harry coaxed in a baby voice.
"Pretty sure it was your fault," Louis shot back.
*
"Homemade noodles?" Louis asked, watching Harry crouch by the high chair and try another attempt at feeding Isabella.
Up until now, Isabella continued to resist eating Harry's homecooked meals. No matter how hard Harry tried or how many different ingredients he used to spice up her food (not literally) Isabella wouldn't have it. Isabella was living off of Gerber food, crisps, fruit and Pringles. Besides the fruit, her daily nutrition was inedible in Harry's opinion.
Harry hadn't tried soft noodles yet, so here he was, the crick in his neck pestering him, but his eyes remained focused and his mouth sputtered out plane noises to trick Isabella into eating a mouthful.
"Yes. She's the only person in the state who doesn't like my cooking. Now it's personal," Harry answered. He turned to Isabella and swooped the spoon down. "C'mon, one bite."
Isabella opened her mouth and Harry took this as his opportunity. Harry shoved the spoonful of noodles inside until Isabella closed her mouth around the spoon. He licked his lips, Isabella licking her lips as well and smiling a little.
"Oh my God. I did it!" Harry cackled uproariously, jumping up and down excitedly.
Louis laughed along with Harry, the crinkles by his eyes pronounced from his happiness. Harry quieted down and stared at Louis for a few seconds, his lips glistening with saliva and curving into a blinding smile. There were moments like these where it felt like time stood still between them. Even when there were other people around them, it always felt like it was only Louis and Harry. Together. Always.
Suddenly, the moment felt grandiose as if Louis was about to sweep Harry off his feet, dip him and kiss him until both of their mouths were bruised. But in reality, they were not together and Louis definitely did not imagine these thoughts. Louis was not a romantic. He was not in love. Especially not with Harry Styles. However, watching Harry watch him like that was making Louis' heart lurch and his breathing stutter.
Harry smiled even wider, his cheek dimpling. He ran into Louis' arms in a bone-crushing hug. Instinctively, Louis looped his arms around Harry and hugged him tightly, connecting them from chest to chest, ribcage to ribcage, heart to heart. Louis buried his nose into Harry's neck and breathed him in. He couldn't get enough of Harry's lovely smell.
Maybe Louis wasn't in love, but he definitely found Harry endearing. This boy...this gangly, lovely boy who had a heart made out of gold and cared for every single person he met, crawled into each and every crevice of Louis' heart and taken residency there.
Maybe Louis was not in love, but maybe he was closer to the feeling more and more with every day that passed. Those dark times when he had used drunken one-night stands to fill the empty ache inside were now replaced by sheer fondness for the other man.
Isabella looked up at her daddies hugging tightly with shining, starry eyes.