A/N: I'm very sorry for Harry's behaviour. Right now, I think introducing today's chapter with one of Louis' cutest dream is the right thing to do.
Louis, July 12th
Louis and Harry were hiking.
It was the same twigs that would tickle Harry's skin each time he'd penetrate the same thicket, that patterned against his jean bare legs as him and Louis trespassed. He was caught in a high laugh when his boyfriend winced as one reached his eye. This laugh was admired by Louis, which was why he tightened the of their intertwined hands. He had to speed up his footing to catch up with Harry, but he was laughing too.
"You still haven't answered my question," Louis chirped and bumped their hands into the side of the younger one's thigh as a playful remark. "Don't be shy and make me regret ever asking it."
"It was so sudden," Harry replied, and he was so exhilarated about reaching the lake that he'd surpassed Louis' walking again, perhaps because he was too timid to be parallel with his partner. "I didn't expect you to ask it just like that, so I didn't know what to say."
"It's okay if you don't want to say."
Harry bounced up on a rock and Louis automatically rose to his tippy-toes at the movement, falling down to his heels when the flat underside of Harry's sneakers plummeted against the hard stone ground.
"Well?" Louis urged, just as their feet attained their spot on the steepest part of the slope, just above the glittering waterfront. "Do I have to regret asking? Or are you giving me the answer I want?"
Harry's cheeks had chosen a pink shade when his eyes linked with Louis'. "You already have the answer. It's on my fucking face, isn't it?"
"Maybe it is." As if the emotion had appeared as something touchable, Louis reached out for Harry's face and placed a tender had on his pinkish cheeks. "But the point is that I want to hear you say it."
Harry was gentle when he jolted forward into Louis' chest, forehead slamming softly just under the seams to his collar. It seemed that a persistent act of chewing on your lip was settling for him as he absorbed the anxiety of the anticipation, which transcended when he noticed Louis' heartbeat thumping through the thin fabric of his tee. Because it stressed him out, he looked up to gain an enthralling view of the eyes that had earned a shimmery tint over their blue, which shared the same shade of the sky above their pensive heads.
"Yes," he answered, swaying subtly after he'd circled his arms around Louis. "Yes, I'm in love with you."
And his shimmer turned to glaze. "That didn't hurt a soul, did it?" And Harry chuckled through the feeling of butterflies fluttering in his stomach. "Surely it healed mine. For an eternity. Probably more than that."
"You're a pain in the arse," Harry whispered, which made Louis' lips curl quirkily. "And not because you physically are, some nights," Louis nodded proudly, "but because you are the sweetest boyfriend anyone could ever ask for, and it's genuinely exhausting. Because I have to live up to that, and there is no way I'll never be as romantic as you are."
Louis' hands slid down, more comfortably, and curved at Harry's neck. "You are romance, Harry." His shoulders slouched. "Look at where we are," he said, and Harry's gaze stretched over their surroundings, dreamily observing the wafting trees, the sleeping lake and its reflecting colours. "This is your favourite place. This is everything you ever wanted. Remember when you told me that?" Harry nodded. "So I brought you here, because this is part of you. And for me to be part of you, we need this spot to share." And then Louis bursted into a chuckle. "Bloody hell, I sound like a fucking poet." Harry's dimples carved deep as he wordlessly agreed. "What I mean to say is, this is romance. You are romance. And I love you."
"You should be a writer," Harry whispered, loosely hanging his arms around Louis' neck. "Write me something. And I'll dream for it to come true."
"Darling," Louis hummed, inching close. "We have no reason to fantasise." And he aligned their foreheads, lips softly resting together. "Our life is a dream come true."
I had to wriggle forcibly in order to fight the bubbling nerves that bustled through me after awakening, and it was long before my smile would stifle, since I hadn't yet realised that Harry and I weren't on good terms, compared to in that dream, anyway.
More than a week had passed since the fight on the Fourth of July, and we still hadn't solved the issue.
But in all honesty, it was Harry's fault entirely, considering I'd been the only one urging for the long phone calls after he'd return from work, or the persistent texting before we'd go to sleep. He was curt in behaviour, while I was always pleading for affection. It was pathetic of me, but I couldn't help but feel anxious over the lack of heart emojis in our chat, from his side, on the most part.
The hardest part was when he'd stopped taking my calls, which was about two days earlier. He'd only reply through text, and blame the lack of phoning on the job and the tight schedule. This was something I found hard to sympathise with, since I knew for a fact that I'd still make sure to call him even if I was highly busy.
Dialling seemed pointless, but I still continued. Not obsessively, just to check. Since I needed to check if he was needed to be checked on. Regularly.
"Hi, it's me again. Sorry for calling. Again. You're probably deleting these messages, but it would be great if you were to pick up, because I'm getting quite tired of these one-sided dialogues I keep having with your bloody voicemail-"
"Louis," a low voice came through the device. "Not my voicemail, babe."
"Oh!" A surge of energy caused my body to levitate into a perky sitting position. "Hi, baby. What's-How's, um-What are you up to?"
"It's seven in the morning," he muttered. "I'm not up at all. Thought you were my alarm at first. Until I saw your picture." One of the selfies we'd taken was saved as my photo in his contacts, and the thought made me smile. "And I do realise I've been a dick to you."
My index finger prodded at a crease in the sheet as I pondered over what to say. "So you're okay?"
"Yeah. Busy, but okay."
Even though I'd received my answer, it didn't seem to be enough information. "Are we okay?" I asked, voice on the brink to trembling.
But Harry was secretive. He replied, "Looks like it" in a way that made my entire face wrinkle up.
"What does that mean?"
"I-" He hadn't prepared what to say, so he trailed off and gave up. "I don't know..."
"What happened, Harry?" I stressed, spine slumping back into the headboard to my bed. "Is it because I snapped at you? I'm sorry that I was angry, but I was just so worried and-Did I hurt your feelings? Did I do something to make you-"
"It's not about that night," he answered, but he didn't elaborate before he skipped onto the next matter. "The reason I've been distant is because I'm not feeling well after what happened with him," he concluded, and it really felt like a lie. For days I'd been feeling as though I was a target, and he was blaming me for any pain that would approach him. "But we're okay," he finished.
"You could've talked to me about it."
"But-But I don't want to put weight on your shoulders." There was a pause, and I couldn't help but think of how ironic those words were. "And I have to deal with these emotions before I can let you in on them. I don't even understand half the crap that's swirling around in my head right now."
"That's not fair," I admitted, feeling dismayed. "You're putting weight on my shoulders by shutting me out. And I'm so fucking worried," my voice cracked in the end. "and I feel so neglected."
"Please, don't cry," he prayed, sounding fragile on the tone. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. It's just that I'm entirely lost in this nest of bad emotions, and-and it makes me selfish. But you-you shouldn't worry."
"Are you sure?" I asked, and Harry quickly replied with a word of confirmation. "It's-It's hard. I'm sorry. I can't really help it."
"Don't feel bad."
My throat was itching, and I kept swallowing to make it dissolve. "Can I come see you? Just for a bit? It's been eight fucking days, and I miss you like mad..."
There was a quiet sigh, which made me want to bang my head against the wall. "Louis, I only have forty minutes to spare before I leave for work."
"That's great," I shone up, unlike him. "Forty minutes is a while."
And finally a soft chuckle came through. "You're not gonna get much out of coming here."
"You mean, other than a sleepy Harry, his warm cuddles, and a possible kiss?" And Harry made a purring sound. "Whatever time I get is worth it," I said, but considering Harry found this a lot funnier than I did, my mood took a swift turn in reaction to his gleeful act. "But if it doesn't do anything for you, then I guess it's pretty fucking pointless."
"No, Louis, that's not what I meant."
I paused for a bit. "What about after work?"
But of course... "I can't."
"Why? What's up?"
"Because I'm not-I'm not-" He stopped to reach for the right words. "I don't-"
"You don't want to see me," I finished his sentence, tapping my fingers anxiously against the backside of my phone. "It's pretty obvious, okay?"
"Louis, stop-"
"You know what? I should've known when you stopped taking my calls. Good on you for bothering to pick up this time and let yourself suffer through the agony of hearing my fucking voice." My throat bobbed at the gulp while my mouth was gradually drying. "I'll stop caring if it's bothering you that much."
"Louis!"
He was cut off when I hung up the call and tossed my phone away into a pillow, which was an act that I mimicked by letting my head plummeted down in another one, wetting it with tears as I attempted to doze off from my nightmare of a life.
"Can you believe you fucked me even before we knew each other's surnames?"
Louis' nose made a funny sound before he nestled it into Harry's neck. "We were both too needy to hold back. I thought I'd bore you if you didn't get it sooner."
"It was hard not to be needy." Harry laughed, loosely pulling at the end of the strings to Louis' hoodie where he sat in front of him on the couch. "I mean, have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?"
"I have," Louis replied, "though, I must say, my own reflection has never given me the urge to have myself pin me up against a tree and-"
"Shh," Harry chimed in, prodding his finger at Louis' parted lips. "That story is too pure and too to be mentioned or made fun of."
Louis lowered Harry's wrist from his face and raised his brows on his forehead. "Excuse me, but what part of it is pure? Because all I remember is fucking you against a tree-"
Harry's laugh interrupted Louis' talk. "It was our first time! It's always pure. And the reason I mentioned it was because it was...strange. We just, did that, even though we barely knew each other back then."
Louis placed a kiss on Harry's jaw. "I knew you well enough to have discovered your sensitive neck..."
A light grunt was stolen from Harry's lips and he tightened a hand around one of Louis' strings. "And you know all my preferences now, don't you?"
"I do," he cooed and moved a kiss to the neck, which was successful, since Harry gasped. "I really do."
Once my mind began to awaken, I squeezed my eyes shut to attempt falling back to sleep and continue dreaming. But it wouldn't work, so I grunted into the sheets and mentally swore at the mundane scent that had lingered and wasn't Harry's.
And when I heard his voice, I almost thought I'd gone back to dreaming.
"You awake?"
But it was much further away in distance. For that reason I wriggled and turned to sit up and search for him, finally finding him sat in my armchair at the corner of the room, comfortably leaning forward with his hands clutched over his thighs. He was wearing a beanie and had questionable bags under his eyes. But still, he somewhat lit up when I stared.
At first, I felt like smiling, but I didn't. What came was a sigh, and I wasn't happy. "Don't do that," I began. "Don't come over because I snapped at you."
"It's not like that." He stood up from the leather chair. "You've been asleep for hours, Louis. I've shot the scene already, so I came here first thing after. And not because I feel bad." The mattress sunk low when he sat down at the edge of it. "I wanted to see you."
"Then what about yesterday? Or the day before that? Or just any second of the past week?"
Harry's eyes shone with guilt. "I've always wanted to see you, but I haven't been feeling good and I don't want to take the pain out on you. This happened before! Remember when you ran into him and you avoided seeing me for a while-"
"Don't fucking use that against me, Harry. That was not the same thing. I avoided you for twenty-four hours. You've been avoiding me for eight days. And you know why I did what I did?" Harry just stared. "I didn't want to see you, because I'd realised that I loved you and I was scared to look you in the eye."
"I'm sorry," he said, slowly. "That was stupid. You're-You're right. But just because I've been distancing myself from you, doesn't mean I've wanted to." And this made my brows push together, because in my head, that made no sense at all. "It was never my intention to hurt your feelings, but now I've hurt myself by hurting you. And I'm so fucking regretful."
"It's okay," I whispered, since it fell out.
"It's not, though," Harry declined. "You're pissed at me, and I miss your cuddles," at the least fraction of his sentence, his voice faltered. Between us, in the sheets, was his hand, which seemed to be longing for me to pick it up. "And I fucking miss you. So much."
And since I felt hopeless, my hands sloped down beside my thighs. "Harry, I don't know..." I hummed.
Suddenly, I could feel his pinky curling around mine until they were hooked together. "I'm so sorry."
For a moment I simply examined our fingers, silently adoring the way they looked together. It was why I gave in, and intertwined them all into a tight embrace.
"Can you call me when you return home?" I asked. "Or text, it's up to you. Just, please keep me updated."
Harry's thumb stroked into my hand. "But I want to stay here. With you."
My heart made a leap. "Really?"
"Yes," he cooed. "If you want me here."
"For how long?"
"Overnight? Please?"
A sudden urge approached me, and I jolted forward to fling my arms around his neck, while his gently connected around my waist. And because of the warmth the hug provoked, I smiled bigger than I'd done for days.
"Thank you," I hummed against him.
"It's no a favour, babe." He kissed my cheek. "Thank you. I don't deserve this big of a hug."
"Shut up," I retorted, kissing his nose in return. "You deserve the entire world."
***
A/N: Any further thoughts on what's going on with Harry?
Did he really deserve Louis' forgiveness in the end?