The doorbell chimed, promptly waking up Louis and Harry from their peaceful dreams. They shot up from bed abruptly, their hair mussed from their second go last night after they woke up from their high. Harry remembered it all too clearly.
("Fuck, you smell so good. How do you smell so good all the time?" Harry asked, his face shoved into Louis' armpit.
Harry licked a fat, broad stripe up Louis' golden skin, Louis squirming and letting out a breathless laugh.
"Tickles, Haz," Louis murmured, huffing quiet, simmering snickers.
Harry touched, nipped and tasted until Louis was writhing below him. He found Louis' weakest area, dipping his tongue inside Louis' tight pink hole while Louis clenched all around him. He lathed his tongue over the sensitive ring of circle, Louis crying out and shooting white ribbons of come onto the already messy bed sheets. By the time he let up, Louis' clenching hole was wet and warm from Harry's tongue and Harry looked obscene with his blotchy cheeks and his lips and chin covered in spit. Louis just had to touch their mouths together again with his hand cupped on Harry's jaw, felt like he was going to burst into flames just from the sight of him.
Harry smiled wickedly, licking Louis nice and clean and then kissed him on the mouth afterwards, the taste of Louis strong on his tongue. He didn't care if he tasted musky or that he was lying in the damp spot on the sheets. All he cared about was that his boy was straddling him, lazily kissing him until the morning sun rose up.
Louis played with Harry's nipples, even the two smaller nubs underneath, until they were nice and puffy and Harry couldn't take it anymore. Harry was so hot and so bloody hard, rutting his hips into Louis' thigh because he couldn't help himself. He had to bury his face into Louis' neck to keep himself from saying something embarrassing like I like it when you play with my nipples or worse Put your mouth on them again.
"Fuck, you've got me so—" Harry said then cut himself off, too mortified to hear himself say it out loud, hear how broken his voice was, how desperate he was for it. For Louis.
He must think I'm so fucking needy, Harry thought embarrassedly, more turned on than he had ever been in his entire life.
But Louis didn't make fun of Harry. Instead, he was right there with him, shushing Harry with his lips before Harry could so much as apologize and pressed his lips to the shell of Harry's ear, close enough that his breath tickled Harry's sensitive skin.
"Wet?" Louis stated rather than asked. Harry sucked in a sharp intake of breath, feeling like he was going to come just from a few dirty, whispered words. Louis' hand slid down Harry's front, palming the thick patch of curls at the base. "I got you soaking wet, yeah?"
Harry made a soft mewling sound, helpless to do anything but thrust into Louis' thigh once more, not doing him any favors.
"Lou—"
"God, I bet you are," Louis mused, his eyes dark in the low light of the bedroom. He cupped his hand over Harry's cock, pressing down until Harry's cock was lying flat on his heaving stomach, Louis' palm damp because Harry was so drippy. "Fuck, I bet Ed can't make you this wet, can he? You're soaked only for me. Isn't that right, sweetheart?"
Harry nodded viciously, blushing fiercely, holding Louis tighter when he felt he was drowning in pleasure.
"Ungh...Lou...please—"
Louis nosed along the length of Harry's throbbing cock, closing his mouth over the wet head, his eyes widening in surprise when he received a pulse of pre-come on his tongue. Harry bit on his bottom lip harshly, trying almighty not to buck up his hips into Louis' mouth.
"Say it again," Louis breathed, his breath hot against Harry's skin.
"What?" Harry questioned, grinding his hips roughly against Louis' thigh for the third time in a row, burning hot on his skin.
(Louis might as well punish Harry for being so impatient. The thought turned dirty very, very quickly.)
"Say please again. Tell me you want it."
There was no need to say it again. Harry's quiet moans turned into gasps, his cheeks were flushed, his forehead was sweating, his breathing became shallower and his sweating body vibrated was riddled want. Even his cock was a telltale sign of how bad he wanted it, leaving a hot line of pre-come on one of his laurel leaves.
"Please," Harry begged anyways, swallowing hard after he said it. He threaded his fingers through Louis' hair, cradling the back of his head in the most sweetest way Louis had ever been held. "Want you to fuck me."
To his credit, Louis gave Harry what he wanted without making him ask for it again. He rolled them over in bed and pinned Harry's hands above his head, fucking Harry into the mattress deep and tender. When Harry's lungs started to feel like fire, he had to consciously remind himself to breathe. He gulped air fast, too fast, making his head spin and his body feeling dizzy to match. He couldn't think beyond Louis digging his blunt fingernails into his hips, so opposite to how he was fucking him so hard on the bed that Harry's head almost collided with the headboard. His mouth made sounds so sweet it made Louis bite down into Harry's sensitive skin, sucking until he knew it hurt and then kissed and licked over the same spot.
There was already so much heat building in the pit of Harry's stomach that it was like kindling a flame, making it grow wild. It only took a few minutes until Harry came onto his heaving stomach as Louis pumped thick inside of him. Louis followed thereafter, spilling hot into Harry's clenching hole without a condom, remnants of come trickling from between Harry's sore arse cheeks. Harry knew they shouldn't have fucked with a condom, but the thought of Louis coming into his arse, filling him up, marking him from the inside, was too good to pass up. Plus, he trusted Louis.
Louis held Harry until he came down, kissing all over his pink mottled cheeks. Harry kissed Louis on the lips sweetly, a warm feeling unfurling in his chest.
Afterwards, Louis cleaned Harry up using his tongue and tucked him protectively to his chest, both men sighing happily at the same time. Harry fell asleep with a sedated smile drawn across his face.)
"What? Who?"
Harry sat up groggily, rubbing his tired eyes. He looked over, watching amusedly as Louis picked up the baby monitor and pressed it to his cheek. Louis scratched his scalp, his eyes unfocused and bleak. He looked soft and bright bunny-eyed. His eyes were tinged red but otherwise clear. Pillow creases littered his pink cheeks and his lips were just as pink and pillowy soft. His hair was sticking out in odd directions with a little sprig of a cowlick standing at the back of his head. Harry thought he would never get to see this side of him. He felt privileged just by the view.
"Hello?"
"It's the baby monitor," Harry rasped.
"Where's the phone?"
Louis' hand shot out to pat the bed sheets to find the missing phone.
Harry slumped his shoulders, sniffling and mumbling, "I think it's the door."
"Oh, I'll get the door."
Louis kissed Harry's cheek and swung his legs over the bed. Harry smiled after him, getting up and finding a shirt to wear. Louis grabbed the closest item of clothing on the way, which happened to be his favorite black tank top with oversized armholes, and headed down the stairs. He reached the entrance and opened the front door, struggling to get the tank top over his head.
"Oh, good morning, Mr. Tomlinson," Eleanor said albeit a little too cheerfully. Her eyes roamed Louis' body shamelessly, her voice pitching high and sweet. "I hope this isn't too an inconvenient time for me to stop by."
"No, no," Louis' words came out muffled from under his tank top, his head popping out in the wrong hole. He rearranged his flimsy shirt and fixed her with a forceful smile. "This is perfect. Just give us one minute."
"Since it's warm out, I thought I could—"
Eleanor didn't get to finish her sentence because Louis slammed the door shut in her face. Louis jogged up the steps back to their bedroom, finding an empty bed and no Harry. He walked to Isabella's bedroom, popping his head inside.
"Hey, Eleanor's here."
Harry sat on the floor with Isabella in his lap. He hoisted her high in the air, bouncing her up and down and making a, "Wee!" sound with his mouth.
"What? Now? God, that lady has the worst timing in the world," Harry grumbled. He handed Isabella over to Louis, pulling down his tiny black-boxer briefs over his thighs. "Alright, you take Bella. I'll clean upstairs, you clean downstairs and get the illicit drugs!"
Louis jogged down the steps with Isabella inside the laundry basket covered in clothes. He picked up discarded articles of clothing off the banister from last night's adventure. Harry replaced their dried come splattered sheets with lavender-smelling white bed sheets. They didn't smell like Louis, but it would have to do for now.
Downstairs, Louis threw the whisk, cracked eggshells and small bowls into a large, dirty bowl and shoved them into the dishwasher. He grabbed the small bag of illegal drugs and contemplated where to hide it, deciding on eliminating the evidence. He stuffed the baggie of leftover weed into the kitchen grinder sink and turned it on. Harry sprayed two cans of Febreeze Air expertly in the air, bumping into Louis' front.
"Okay, okay. We didn't smoke it," Louis scolded without bite as he buttoned up the last two buttons of the crisp collared shirt he changed into.
"Yeah, I got a little carried away." Harry nodded, chucking the empty cans on the table.
"Where's Bella?" they both proclaimed simultaneously, no sign of their baby girl present.
Louis opened the door to the washroom and looked around worriedly, hearing a few bubbly giggles coming from the floor. He looked down to witness Isabella playing with the rumpled clothes inside the laundry basket. Louis made a firm tsk sound against the roof of his mouth and picked Isabella up. He kissed her cheek, Isabella gurgling contently.
A short while later, the adults were seated in the living room with Isabella babbling in Louis' arms and three hot cups of tea placed on top of the coffee table.
"You seem more settled in your roles," Eleanor mused as he clicked her pen, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.
"Yeah!" Harry replied happily. "We have learned a lot and so has Miss Bella. She's walking now."
"So how are you two getting along?" Eleanor hummed, twirling the pen in her manicured fingers. "Is there any tension? Are you troubled with internal friction?"
Louis hungrily licked his lips and stared up at the ceiling, the corners of his mouth lifting in a teasing smirk. He wiggled his arse on the couch. Subtlety was never his strongest suit.
"Internal friction?" Louis hummed conspiratorially.
"Us? No, we're good." Harry suppressed a wide dimples smile and looked over to Louis, his face warming up when Louis was already smiling at him softly. "Everything's all good, good, good."
"And have you thought about how you are gonna make this work? Or what your plans might be together?" Eleanor asked, her pen poised on her notepad, ready to scribble down their answers.
"We hadn't really gotten that far it's, um, still pretty new." Harry stared at Louis, the butterflies in his stomach threatening to spill out of his ribcage. "Some things just happened with no plan at all."
"Really? Because I kinda had a plan in mind," Louis said teasingly, reflexively squeezing Isabella gathered in his arms.
Harry wanted to kiss Louis right then and there. Up until now, Louis had driven him crazy, but now it was a different type of crazy. Ever since last night happened, Harry felt his movements lighter, he saw everything brighter. It just wasn't a good fuck, it meant something to Harry.
Especially after Harry had come down from his high, Louis fingered him open, their faces only a breath apart. Louis kissed along Harry's jawline while his fingers worked inside him. He kissed him until he felt dizzy with it, his fingers jabbing at Harry's prostate and making him ache for it. He treated him so good after Harry came, kissing along Harry's thighs and cleaning him up with his tongue. Harry had loved every minute of it.
Harry blinked back to reality, murmuring, "Really? Just never occurred to me that you had any interest in my plans."
"How could you not know that I wanted to plan with you?" Louis said with a fond smile, his eyes blinking slow.
"Maybe I'm not as an experienced planner as you," Harry contemplated in a bashful sort of way.
"Aw. You're a good planner," Louis praised, the tip of his tongue darting out to wet the corner of his mouth.
Eleanor looked between them, her expression bridging towards sarcastic irritation. She flicked her hand in the air, gesturing between the two of them.
"C'mon, people, you had sex. Huh?" Eleanor asked exasperatedly.
Louis and Harry stayed silent for a few moments. Harry looked away guiltily with blushing cheeks while Louis took a careful sip of tea, his face splitting into a smug smile.
Harry was the first one to break, his deep voice rumbling, "We have no intention of letting our personal lives affect our parenting, I promise."
"You gonna get married?"
"This happened, what? Six hours ago?" Louis asked incredulously, his curved eyebrows arching all the way up to his hairline.
"What if it doesn't work out? Where are you gonna sleep, Tommo? Are you gonna sleep in the garage?"
Louis shrugged carelessly, squinting his eyes at Eleanor. Eleanor shook her head from side to side, her voice rising high.
"Sex in the situation...it's like termites. It makes for a very unstable household," Eleanor grumbled, picking up her things and standing up, straightening out her tasteful suit. "You guys were supposed to be my easy case. I got nice coffee on the way here, I thought, "I'm gonna go deal with my easy case. Gonna make it like a little mini vacation. Yay!""
"Look, El—" Louis pitched in.
Eleanor interrupted Louis rudely, pinching the inner corners of her eyes for a beat.
"We have one more meeting scheduled and before then I want you to work out your personal issues whether you decide to get engaged or pretend that it never happened. I don't care. Just. Work. Your. Shit. Out. Okay?"
Eleanor flicked her hand in the air, pausing after every word for added emphasis.
"Okay." Harry nodded rapidly.
"Do you mind if I snag a brownie?" Eleanor pointed to the remainder of the weed brownies.
Louis motioned to Harry, gesturing wildly with his hands. Harry ran up to Eleanor, babbling, "Oh, God no! No, no, no, no." He swatted at the brownie in her hand, causing the brownie to fly across the room. "Really. I'm so sorry. It's just a bad batch and I'm a professional baker."
"No, it's okay," Eleanor said, frowning. "Your house, your food. Anyway. Sorry. I'm out of here. Thank you."
Harry apologized again, Eleanor interrupting him with a hand to his face.
"It's okay," Eleanor said with a tight grimace.
Eleanor looked at Harry warily and turned on her heel, disappearing around the hallway and shutting the front door behind herself. Harry blew his bangs out of his eyes, leaning with his hands pressed to the small table behind himself. Louis shrugged, Isabella sitting comfortably in his lap. Harry snagged a brownie and chewed into it, forgetting about the hallucinating drugs inside. Louis raised his eyebrows at him. It took all of two seconds for Harry to widen his eyes and spit the mushed brownie out.
Harry coughed out, "I forgot," and clutched one hand to his chest.
Louis smirked at Harry, grabbing the brownie from Harry's limp hand and biting into it. Harry shook his head, his mouth curving into a sly smile. Louis patted Harry's cheek fondly and walked away with Isabella tucked in his arms, Harry staring at his swaying arse.
"I know you're staring at my arse, you perv!" Louis called out over his shoulder.
Harry sighed, his hand still clutching his chest, all the while thinking, I'm so screwed.
It was afternoon when Ben Winston called Louis to his office. The sun was sweeping over the horizon, the sky a light color of soft oranges and baby blues. Louis was perched on the monitor, his feet resting on a table. Josh had joined him, his headset still on from the London Lions game earlier that day.
"You're my last single friend," Josh bemoaned dramatically. "Without you, I have no link to the outside world."
Louis frowned at Josh and inspected his clean fingernails. They were bitten down to the quick. Louis needed to stop this bad habit of biting his nails out of nervous habit before it got increasingly worse.
"I don't know why we did it. We just...did it," Louis confessed.
"You know what marriage is like? Imagine a prison and then don't change anything."
"We're not married," Louis scoffed.
"You guys are raising a kid together. That's the most married you can get," Josh justified.
Josh ran a hand through his blonde locks, having recently dyed it. Louis hummed a popular Eminem tune under his breath, Josh laughing lightheartedly and giving Louis a quick shove on the chest.
"Wanker," Josh muttered.
Louis smiled at Josh, a soft smile taking place. The door opened then with Ben stepping out dressed in a clean suit and tapered by Chelsea heeled boots. Honestly? Harry looks better in them.
"Tommo, a minute?" Ben gestured with a wave of his hand.
They held their meeting at the arena, walking across the span of the basketball court. Louis shoved his hands deep into his pockets, eyeing the empty seats and still be able to hear the silent cheers and the hoorah shouts of enthusiastic die-hard fans.
"So I gave you a nice, big, fat break and it didn't go so well. Should I learn my lesson with you or should I give you another shot?"
Louis puffed a wet laugh if a bit nervously and tamed down his disheveled hair. He gnawed on his lower lip, a flurry of excitement at a second chance zipping through a live wire just under his skin.
"Given a choice, I'd go with that one. The shot."
"Tommo, you've got it just about better than anybody else here. Sports isn't just about stats and memorizing plays. It's about insight, it's about feeling. You've got the talent, Tomlinson, but you're all over the place."
"I can be in one place," Louis reasoned, setting his hands on his hips.
"Can you? Can you be in Phoenix?" Ben stopped walking to face Louis, his serious expression that of a stern businessman.
Louis gaped at Ben—being so shell-shocked that couldn't breathe or move, lest have words come out of his parted mouth.
"A spot opened up. Directing for the Suns. They called, asked who I thought was right for the job. I'd like to tell them you. Let me know."
Ben walked away on that final note, leaving Louis alone in the empty arena with his thoughts. Louis mulled the idea in his head, biting down on the inner flesh of his lower lip.
Louis had two options, really. He could either stay here and raise Isabella together with Harry the way Liam and Zayn envisioned and honor their wishes. Or he could move to Phoenix and land his dream job that he started working hard for since he was eighteen. The answer was plain and simple. Move to Phoenix to direct the Suns. Then how come Louis kept coming up with excuses, his heart aching at the thought of leaving Isabella, of leaving Harry? He didn't want to come to terms with his feelings (Louis didn't have a great experience with his emotions) and so he pushed Ben's tempting offer to the back of his mind. Ben Winston was the devil.
Louis was planning on telling Harry. Of course he was going to tell him. He couldn't keep it a secret forever. However, he never expected it to come out the way it did.
*
The neighborhood was planning a block party filled with kiddie games, bounce houses, hot dogs, hamburgers and festivities. They made block parties at the start of every Autumn to celebrate a new beginning. Louis swallowed the words new beginning down his throat. How ironic.
Louis, Harry and Isabella were sprawled on a picnic blanket on the fresh grass while a caricature artist drew whiskers on their faces, painting them like clown felines. A paint brush smeared orange across Louis' cheek. Louis formed a claw with his hand, pretending to be a lion but appearing more like a disgruntled kitten. Harry giggled, nudging his nose on Louis' shoulder.
"If me at any age in my life could see me right now, he would kick my cat arse," Louis said consequentially.
"Tommo, I heard you lived around here."
Louis' coworker, Oli, loomed in front of them, carrying a red balloon and holding a little boy's hand who Louis presumed was his son.
"Oli! Hey!" Louis shook Oli's hand, smiling up at him.
"Sweet move landing Phoenix. We're gonna miss you around the arena," Oli congratulated Louis.
Harry looked at Louis confusedly, his smile freezing on his face. Louis shook his head, not daring to see the disappointing look displaying on Harry's face. He's a coward. He waved off Oli's sincere congrats, his eyebrows pinching together.
"We're still talking about all that."
"Really?" Oli frowned. "'Cause Ben said it seemed like a pretty done deal."
"We're probably gonna be over at the band in a bit," Louis mumbled, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He coughed awkwardly into his fist and thumbed over his shoulder, desperate to change the subject of the conversation. "Meet you over there."
Louis scrunched his lips to the side, clearly uncomfortable with the whole situation.
"Nice whiskers," Oli growled, walking away.
"What was that about?" Harry questioned suspiciously.
"Nothing. C'mon, let's go."
Louis dismissed Harry easily, walking away with Isabella wrapped in his arms. Harry stared at Louis' retreating back, a line of worry creasing his forehead. He swallowed around the hard lump that had formed in his throat and nodded at the caricature painter, sending him his thanks.
Harry stood up on wobbly feet and followed Louis to the endless rows of tables decked out in a variety of food. The rush of Oli's words left a bad taste in his mouth, Harry gripping his long hair and tugging on the ends harshly. The words Phoenix and pretty done deal bounced around inside his head, weighing him down with the weight of the world. Adrenaline quickly coursed through his veins like hot poison. Harry shook away the awful conclusions that were threatening to nip at him, continuing to follow Louis around the tablecloth covered table.
"C'mon, Lou. Out with it."
"It's just something Ben and I talked about the other day," Louis offered with a measly shrug, rocking back on his heels a little. "He put me up for a directing job."
"In Phoenix?" Harry raised his eyebrows.
"Mm-hmm. For the Suns. Running their whole crew for the season."
"You said no though, right?" Harry managed to choke out, his heart beating fiercely against his ribcage.
Louis picked up a paper plate, stacking hamburger buns on top. He hung his head low as if he was trying to make himself appear smaller or try to disappear from the face of the Earth. Harry searched for Louis' eyes. Louis never lied with his eyes. He was an open book for the whole world to read.
"Well," Louis drawled, taking more time to explain himself than he really needed. "I didn't want to be rude and just turn it down right on the spot."
"So why didn't you just tell me about it?"
"Because I didn't want it to be a thing." Louis discreetly muttered, "It's not like I can take it anyway."
"But you want to," Harry clarified.
"Of course I want to," Louis said with a scoff and an eye roll. "It's a huge opportunity."
"So you're thinking about it," Harry pressed further, unwilling to let this go.
Louis hesitated before answering with a stern, "No."
"No?" Harry pestered Louis.
"No. Not thinking about it."
"I don't understand why you didn't just mention it to me," Harry said with incredulity.
Harry and Louis shared everything together. They shared a house, they shared a bed, hell, they even shared a baby together. Secrets were one thing amongst them.
"Because I didn't want you to be upset which you obviously are," Louis replied in a flat tone.
"Why would I be upset if it's not even a possibility?"
Harry shrugged his shoulders up and down, still amazed at the fact that Louis was oddly distant from the conversation. He felt pings of anger spark through him at the realization. He felt a nauseous tug at the back of his throat as the tang of something sickly and metallic flooded his mouth. Even if Louis didn't leave, it still meant he was thinking about it, a constant possibility running through his head. Harry's eyebrows furrowed together, his entire body visibly tense. Anger thrummed through his veins in a hot coil of winded emotions.
Harry snatched the paper plate of food away from Louis' hands, gritting out, "You know what, Louis? Can we just stop with the food for one minute? Can you just tell me honestly...are you thinking about taking this job?"
Louis finally looked up at Harry, his eyes hard, his jaw clenched. Harry didn't like what he saw in Louis' eyes. Resolute. Distance. Regret. Regretting them.
"Yeah, I'm thinking about it. It's something I've been working for, okay?" Louis justified. "I would've jumped at this opportunity before."
Harry nodded slowly, the corners of his lips pursuing downwards. "Before Bella and before me? I get it."
Harry made cooing noises at Isabella and grabbed her, taking her away from Louis' protective arms.
Louis deflated, the walls he so carefully built around himself tumbling down the moment Harry showed him what love felt like. It wasn't sleeping with strangers or having a good laugh, it was soft touches and intimate whispers in the dark. It was Harry cooking him breakfast every morning and giving Louis a few more hours in bed when he woke up to the shrill sounds of Isabella's crying. Love was when they fought and Harry still made Louis a cup of tea the way he liked. Milk first, no sugar. Love was Harry kissing down Louis' body and calling out for God when Louis touched him in all the right ways. Love was Harry Styles.
"Harry. Haz," Louis called after Harry helplessly.
Harry whirled around to Louis, his face void of any emotion. He wasn't going to show Louis how much he was hurting him.
"How was that gonna work out, Louis? Were we gonna go with you or were you gonna leave us?"
"I don't know," Louis admitted honestly.
Louis ran his hands through his hair, frustrated at himself. He was angry at Ben for offering him the job, he was angry at Harry for always being so goddamn sweet even when he didn't need to be, and he was especially angry with himself for falling in too deep, too fast.
"I never had to think for three people before, I bearly had to think for one. It's just a job offer," Louis defended lamely.
"No, it's not. It's exactly what you've been waiting for," Harry said in a harsh rasp, his eyes narrowing down to half-slits. "A clean-out."
"That's just not true."
"You never wanted to be here and after everything, after all of this, you still think of us as temporary."
"You think that I'm not in this?" Louis asked, disbelieving. He threw his hands in the air, irritated with everything. "I gave up my place, I gave up my motorcycle, I gave you money for your restaurant."
"I never asked you for money."
"I did it to make you happy!" Louis shouted. His cheeks were flushed with anger, his hair disheveled from where he carded his fingers through it. "I gave up everything to play this fucking part!"
The gasp Harry heard, how embarrassing, must have been his.
"Play this part?" Harry echoed emptily. His face scrunched like he had finished sucking on a sour lemon. Everything he built came tumbling down into rubble. He finally broke. His eyes were teary, red-rimmed and tired and his voice came out in a vulnerable whisper, wobbling, "That's what this is to you?"
"Well, we're living in their house, we're sleeping in their bed, we're raising their kid. We're acting like we're married but we're not," Louis argued.
"Have you been pretending with Bella?"
"No, I love Isabella!"
Harry pursued his lips, his eyes widening and watering. It felt like he had been punched in the gut by the plot twist of a horror thriller movie; his favorite character had been the bad guy all along. How could I have been such an utter fool? Does he not care about me...at all?
"So just me then," Harry said in a strangled voice.
Louis opened his mouth to protest, but no fighting words came out. He was speechless. He had said enough.
Ashes. Ashes. We all fall down like ashes. The invisible ashes fluttered around Harry, disintegrating around his feet as hurt and humiliation engulfed him completely.
Harry walked away, holding Isabella tighter to his chest.
Harry yelled, "You should take the job, Tommo," without looking back.
Tommo. Harry had stopped calling him that the moment Louis' lips touched his. Everybody called him Tommo, but Harry wasn't everybody. The name Louis was reserved to fall from Harry's lips only.
Louis meant to call out words, anything to bring Harry back. To hold his boy and never let go, but he just got...stuck. Again. Harry had left Louis feeling numb. Louis' mouth went dry with the feeling, three damn words he never said to anybody but to his own mum and little sibling curling at the tip of his tongue.
It was ridiculous, really. Their whole situation was fucked up. Louis never asked for this. He never asked to raise a baby. He never asked to give up his prior life. He never asked to fall in love. Yet here he was. Doing all three things.
Harry stomped all the way to their house. His house. He walked into the living room and sat down on the sofa, hugging Isabella to his chest. Now that he was by himself with no prying eyes watching, he let himself finally feel. His throat closed up, his anxiety crawling back up. Hot tears streamed down his face, Harry furiously wiping at them away with his fist, but to no avail, they didn't let up. He tapped his foot on the tiled floor incessantly, his whole body feeling jittery and tense. A choked gasp escaped his mouth, Harry clamping his hand over his lips to silence his sobs.
After giving all of himself to Louis, he was leaving. For fuck's sake, Harry opened up to him in more ways than one and he still wasn't good enough because Louis was still leaving.
Harry sobbed uncontrollably, his chest heaving ragged breaths that burned his clogged throat. Isabella cried with him, her reddened, leaking face pressed against his chest. It was as if she knew that one of her daddies were leaving soon.
Louis broke their home.