Welcome to the second and the last, sequel of Strawberry Milk .
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Louis always thought it was about finding that person who could say they love you and make you feel like nothing else has ever been more true.
It isn't.
(It’s about finding that person who can make you feel like a person. It’s about that inexplicable connection between your heart and your mind and that feeling you get when your eyes meet theirs and they smile at you.
It always has something to do with the eyes. The eyes, but evermore their eyes - because they don’t struggle to understand anything you do, instead, they already understand, sometimes, even without quite knowing yet. It’s about looking into each other’s eyes and just getting it right. There's a gentleness, a tenderness; it floats around in each sweet, sweet exchange of glances. Understanding each set of thoughts without actually knowing, and then accepting whatever follows. That’s the beauty of it.)
Louis and Zayn graduate the next year from University with their different degrees. It came quick, swept them out from under their feet. One minute they’re getting student refunds and blowing it on ridiculous things, dicking around on their skateboards and enjoying their boyfriends, and the next they’re stepping off campus without much of a reason to ever come back. It almost feels like they’re finally evolving into an official ‘adult;’ with no more classes, no more textbooks, and no more glorious, glorious student refunds. Fuck.
Graduation day is a flurry of tears and kisses, mums and way too many congratulations. They’re trapped in their gowns and hats, and Zayn is so shy and humble, smiling at his family and at Liam and his family. Louis on the other hand is fake yawning, rolling his eyes, and sticking his tongue out at his little sisters despite Harry and Jay’s scowling faces.
There are plenty of photos taken, one of Louis’ favourite ones costing him a twenty. But now he has this beautiful photo of Zayn in his gown and cap, and Liam on his knees underneath it. They refused to take the photo in front of their parents, but Louis already has plans to blow it up, frame it, and send it to their families for Christmas. Sentimental value and all.
(His real favourite photo, though, priceless, unexpected.
It was just him messing around with his mum’s camera, complaining about how he's ready to go out for dinner already and get the day over with. But all the families still chat and chat, busy being busy and Louis just looks like a child in a graduation costume.
So, his hip juts out, there’s a pout on his lips, and he is trying to figure out when cameras got so... complicated. But then Harry’s on the screen from the new angle Louis holds the lens at, and -
He’s lying in the green grass atop the hill where the graduation initially took place, knees bent. He’s in a light blue button down, except only the bottom three are actually buttoned up. His dark bow tie is tied around his wrist instead of his neck, his sleeves rolled up, and his black skinny jeans are cuffed at the bottom - and like, shit, does that make Louis hot and warm and fucking fond.
Harry’s feet are bare, toes curling into the grass, his pretty pink toe nails a soft contrast to the vibrant green. Then there is Daisy. Daisy who has Harry’s head in her lap, fingers in his curly hair that is mixed with daisies that she keeps tucking in the warm brown locks of his hair, her head is leaning over his. She is giggling loudly, teeth showing and a little dimple up by her nose, and Harry has his lips puckered in a kissy smile. Daisy keeps giggling and smiling and rubbing her nose against Harry’s as she tucks more flowers in his hair.
And Louis’ never felt so transparent.
Transparent because around them are hundreds of people, and dozens of families, and yet he is capturing such a tender and intimate moment, one that is truly sweet and private and now his too.
(It is the first time he ever pictured having his own family with Harry, coming some hour or so after graduating from University.)
Behind Harry and Louis’ backs, Anne and Jay planned a small holiday trip to Paris as a congratulations to Louis for graduating. They spent the year putting back extra money, and over dinner they surprise the boys with two train tickets, a hotel reservation, two different restaurant reservations, and then an envelope of splurging money along with a guide of tourist attractions and favourites.
So one minute Louis’ in a cap and gown, and the next he’s in a brand new suit his mum bought him, sitting in a fancy underground restaurant, Harry sitting across from him in his own new suit. Candlelight flickers in his eyes and Louis kind of falls in love again. Harry makes him do that a lot.
(They drink too much wine, have a little too much sex, and get awful sunburns from their visit to Le Havre beach.)
Since Louis is no longer a student at the college, special campus rules prohibit him to stay in one of the cheap campus marketed flats, even if his boyfriend is still a student. Which bullshit.
Zayn got in luck. Upon graduating, he already had a manager take him under his arm and set him up a place in a grandiose art museum for talented, young artists. Upon that, he was offered, at half price, one of the somewhat immaculate flats that were stacked upon the museum. So Liam and him were all goddamn set.
Louis wasn’t. Louis was given the preschool position he was promised, but the pay was nearly triple less of what a year two, or even a year one teacher position would pay, not to mention, the lack of housing.
So really, their new flat is much smaller. They’re not allowed to paint, or hang things with nails, or even have a pet, even if it is a fish.
(They lost their little fish a few months prior, but still.)
The water in their new apartment goes cold a little too fast, the walls are ridiculously thin, and the kitchen, living room, and dining room are all one room. A door on the left leads to their bathroom, a door to the right, their bedroom.
So the paint chips off the wall, and they’re not even allowed to re-paint the original colour. They have to compromise and load many of their belongings in storage, and most of their meals consist of peanut butter and crackers and whatever Harry brings home from the university. It's okay, though.
Harry leaves his job at the library and begins a job tutoring at the university. He doesn’t make nearly enough to live on monthly, but weekly he brings in a small check that can pay for groceries and small necessities, and Louis’ monthly check pays for the rent and any other bills.
Louis works at the preschool all day, tricking kids into taking their naps, teaching them how to tie their shoes, and he even kicks in with a head start on the alphabet and numbers. It's a blast of a job, dealing with snobby kids, and strange kids, and lovely little kids, and though the pay is shit, he’s happy.
(Even happier when he comes home to his shit flat and pretty boyfriend.)
It’s about the end of January when they get in their first real fight.
It’s the end of January, they’re both so stressed, and the night ends with Louis slamming the door to their flat, tears burning in his eyes. He goes to Liam and Zayn’s place, sobs racking up in his chest as he tells Zayn about how they’re two months behind in rent, and have no food, and they’re a struggling mess. He ignores every noise his phone makes indicating Harry trying to get in contact with him and falls asleep on his mates’ couch with tear tracks down his cheeks and swollen-closed eyes.
(Once Zayn is sure Louis is asleep, he calls Harry and tells him he’s okay.)
When Louis returns the next day, it’s with his ego crushed in the fist he makes when he knocks on the door to their flat. As soon as he sees Harry’s bloodshot eyes, he lets out a sob. Harry is holding him immediately, his arms wrapping around him, his own tears slipping down his cheeks and down Louis’ neck.
They both look like utter shit, and they feel that way even more so. And when Louis has Harry pressed into the mattress later that day he says just that, making Harry snort, retorting with a sarcastic, “Could say the same for you, daddy.”
In the midst of all the money issues and a midnight conversation discussing ways they can try and be more cash-savvy, Harry brings up the option of stopping his treatment program, knowing it is where a majority of their money is going.
Louis denies the offer as if Harry even mentioning it is the most ridiculous idea he has ever heard. Denies it with a quick and firm ‘absolutely not,’ that makes tears form in Harry’s eyes, little trembled apologies spilling from his lips as if it’s the only thing he can think to say to make everything okay again.
Louis holds him, whispers to him that he has absolutely no reason to be sorry. He takes his hands, plays with his fingertips gently. Hushed reminders that he is more important than warm water and having a packed fridge.
(Even strawberry milk becomes a special occurrence in their flat.)
(When you truly love someone, it should be easy. Yes, it's going to get hard, maybe painfully so in specific times, but loving should never be hard. It must be this vast, soul-consuming, yet gloriously effortless simplicity. It must feel like there is more of a connection between the two of you than just the two of you.
They reach for your hand and instantaneously reaching out feels more like some powerful mutuality.)
When Harry graduates, they ask that instead of taking another holiday, they would really like to just have the extra money to help out with rent and bills. It keeps their two months of summer completely covered in rent, which allows them to put money back for rainy days and have a bit of splurging money so their summer isn’t a broke fest.
Over the summer, both Harry and Louis work shifts with Niall (who is in his last year of uni before transferring to a law school) at the pizza shop. After their shifts there, they head off to their second jobs, trying to rack up enough money to help them through the winter months. They return home to each other sometime between 6:30 and 7:00, too tired to even fuck.
It’s the summer of saving money, cuddling on the couch, and expertising the quick handjob.
The next year is even worse than the first.
Louis still hasn’t slipped into the proper teaching job he has wanted - and needed more than ever - leaving his income entirely way too small for Harry and his needs.
Then there is Harry. Harry who still works two jobs, neither even being of something he enjoys, and coming home to Louis completely exhausted. Louis has never seen Harry so worn down and he has also never been so worried for the sake of his boy.
The conversation about the little place he wanted to buy over by the school Louis works at finally takes place.
“I know you’re not happy like this, Haz.”
“Louis, right now we just need to worry about getting b-”
“We are always gonna be just getting by! Just take a loan out and get the damn place, at least then this struggle will be worth it, Harry!”
Harry doesn’t do it.
It is after their second fight over money that Louis looks into the shop for Harry, perhaps without Harry knowing.
In general terms, it’s cheap. In their terms, it’s expensive. But, the reason the cost is higher than just a normal shop, but also way cheaper in terms of other things, is because above the initial bakery is a two bedroom, one kitchen (separate from the one living room) one living room, two bathrooms, and a laundry room, flat.
Louis takes an extended lunch break the next week at work, and takes out the loan that he got okay-ed by the bank for.
Another week later, he has Harry blindfolded, walking him through the streets of their city to their new home. Harry is smiling unsurely, constantly questioning what Louis has done but the only answer Louis gives is a ‘you’ll see.’
When they get there, Louis quietly takes the keys from his pocket and slips them into the door. He wraps Harry’s hand around the key, takes his other hand and puts it on top of the doorknob.
“Open,” he whispers.
Harry does, and as soon as the vintage shopkeeper bell rings, he freezes.
“Lou?” he breathes.
"Haz."
(Harry is kissing Louis before Louis’ trembling fingers have even had the chance to untie the cloth around Harry's eyes.)
All the dining furniture is left over be the previous owners, even a few stray baking utensils are still hanging in their spots or are on the counter. There is still a broom in the corner, and oven mitts on the counter, and Harry’s eyes are so glassy Louis wonders if he can even see it all.
Louis went and checked the shop out earlier in the week, setting a few things up - like candles, since he hasn’t called and set up the power yet for the building.
Harry couldn’t be happier, though. He is all smiles and biting his lip, running his fingertips across the bumps and ridges of the tables and chairs and counters and stove. He quietly murmurs what he pictures, how he wants the shop to look; to the regular customers he can imagine having, to the way he wants to decorate during holidays. Louis has never felt so proud, so happy, so - good.
What makes it even better, though, is that when Harry asks about the door in the back that is locked, Louis can tell Harry to put the key inside of it as well, and open the door. It opens up to a staircase, at the side before reaching the first step, a small coat closet.
They make their way up the staircase, hand in hand, Louis behind Harry, and open the next door at the top, which is already unlocked. Harry bites his lip as he opens the door, and the living room is what he finds first.
There is a round rug left behind in the middle of the floor and also an old bookcase against the wall. The flooring is wood, a bit scratched and old looking, but tasteful nonetheless. Harry is speechless as he steps inside, the heels of his boots making a light thud with every step.
He makes his way to their own little kitchen, an old rounded refrigerator in a little section cut-out between the stove and counter space, white cabinets hooked on the walls. There is a big empty space to the right for a table, two wooden chairs that match the ones downstairs stacked against the wall.
Harry’s favourite part is the small, square window nook. It has a small padding already there, with a few leftover pillows. The walls of the nook are blank so you can lean against them, but a bit higher up is a small, in-built book case. The window is an old, vintage latch window, and if you pull the latch up, the two separate window doors swing out, allowing you to climb out onto the roof.
They quietly look through the rest of the flat, from the smaller bedroom with another window nook, to the bathrooms that are pink-tiled with claw foot bathtubs.
Then they make it to their bedroom.
Louis had taken one of their mattresses out of storage and set it up in their new bedroom, albeit on the floor, along with sheets and duvets. Surrounding the mattress on the floor, are unlit candles, allowing for light when it gets dark out. Their bedroom is the bigger of the two, with their own bathroom and a long closet, but instead of a window nook, they have two simple windows, still in the vintage, swing-out, fashion.
That night, Harry presses Louis into the mattress and kisses his thank you into Louis’ skin. He mouths at his neck, licking and sucking at his chest, stomach, soft thighs spread before him. He opens Louis up slowly, careful fingers, and careful touches, and gentle kisses, hot panting and sweet fucking. Everything is slow and hazy, their moans echoing in the emptiness of their new home.
Later, when they’re wrapped in their duvets, candles nearly burnt out, Harry finally asks how much the loan is, because he knows it was a loan. When Louis tells him, he chews his lip in guilt until Louis brushes his teeth away from the bottom plush with his thumb, promising him it’s okay.
(“This struggle, and this debt, and us eating cup of noodles every day for a year - it’s all worth it for you, Harry. If you’re not happy, then neither am I.”)
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