story: seven minutes
part: seven // utilize
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Louis does a little 360 turn, his eyes getting bigger and bigger.
Never in a million billion years did he ever imagine that he would live in a house as nice as this one. He's just in the kitchen─which is attached to the garage, and he feels awfully small. "Want to have a look around? We can take your stuff upstairs and I'll show you around?," Harry offers and Louis nods slowly, his jaw sort of slack.
They leave the kitchen─and all it's shiny brightness─and step into a hallways that's as long as Louis' childhood home. There's various door and they all peak Louis' curiosity, but Harry promised him a tour, and the older man is lugging all of his stuff upstairs, so his overbearing curiosity can stop for a moment. "A─Are we sharing a room?," he asks and Harry looks like he's trying not to laugh. He is smiling though, and his eyes look very pretty when they're bright and happy, opposed to angry and stressed.
"I would imagine so. But we have plenty of guest bedrooms if you'd rather sleep in a different room," Harry chuckles and Louis nods.
"Good," and Harry looks over at him, nudging a thick, dark wood door opened with his foot. They walk across the room and he deposits the bags on the bed, setting right beside them. Louis looks around for a moment in awe of how utterly flawless the whole room looks. It's huge, and the over all theme is red and gold. There's an exquisite black chandelier high above their heads.
"You're not going to sleep in here?," Harry asks, and that draws Louis' attention back to him like Harry is reeling in a fish on a pole. Louis' eyes widen in surprise. He didn't suspect Harry would want to be so forward about their relationship.
"I─I─We barely know each other," he stammers and Harry's eyebrows draw together.
"You slept in my bed last night. And the night before that," Harry says, crossing his very hard and muscular arms over his chest. Louis swallows. That mustn't be a good sign. He lowers himself onto the floor, which is a very soft carpet, and looks up at Harry pleadingly.
"I feel asleep the first night... it just happened. And there was a thunderstorm last night... I... I don't do well with those...," Louis says, and Harry just stares at him. He's honestly surprised. Louis snuggled him closer last night than he has since they met in that alley, trying to keep him upside and conscious. He thought they had a breakthrough, and he's been trying to block out the knowledge that Louis is constantly flinching away from him.
Harry nods, willing himself to not become frustrated. His frustration usually comes off as anger and Louis is already scared enough of him he knows. "Okay. I'll take your clothes to your room then. Julia should be coming in to start her duties around one. She'll hang them. Pick out which room you want and I'll wait here for your return," Harry says, and Louis uncertainly starts for the door. Harry nods him off and he closes the door behind him.
The first door that he encounters, in front of Harry's, he opens automatically. It's─of course─absolutely stunning. The theme of this room is much lighter than the main room. The walls are a periwinkle color with baby blue accents. There's a pretty crystal light fixture that could almost be described as a chandelier, but it's not conventional. The bed is very large, Louis assumes a California King, and the quilt is very silver with beautiful white touches here and there. "Oh," he whispers, smiling.
It's a part of him, his waterier and windier tendencies that draw him to lighter colors. He naturally loves blues and silvers and pastels. He knows that if he and Harry are ever going to sleep in the same room someone is going to have to compromise. He can guess that Harry won't want anything too light like this one.
He leaves that one with it already stitched into his heart. Harry is running his hands through his hair with a distressed look on his face when Louis knocks on the now open door, taking a shy step in. "Have you made your decision that quickly?," Harry asks, standing up as Louis nods. Harry adds that to the list of things he's grateful for about Louis. He's bold, he's powerful, he's smart, he isn't greedy, and he's punctual. "You're very perfect. Did you know that?," Harry asks out of the blue and Louis hiccups a little, confused about Harry's confrontational affection.
He blushes anyways. "Thank you," he whispers and Harry adds 'bashful' to the list in his head. "And, yes, I chose the room adjacent to this one. The blue one," Louis says and Harry knows exactly the one, he designed it in case his soulie happened to be a waterier and just simply couldn't deal with such a dark color of red and black.
Harry nods and smiles at him, picking the bags up with both of his arms, following Louis through the door, hallway, and into the blue room, temporarily Louis'. Harry figures he'll be sleeping with him by the end of the month.
"Okay. Would you like the grand tour now?," Harry asks and Louis nods slowly, taking another look at the expensive decorations. As a sudden thought, Louis takes out a pretty blue cup out of one of the bags and sets it on the glass dresser. His mum has the exact one in green and pink and Louis figures that it's a little piece of her, here. He turns back to Harry slowly, and he fidgets under his adoring gaze, his cheeks aflame. He nods and follows Harry back out of the room.
He points to the room silently and Harry nods in understanding, making a mental note. "How much did all of this cost?," he asks, taking a feel at one of the dark, shiny doors as they pass it. Harry looks over at him and opens a door, gesturing for Louis to go in.
"About three million," he shrugs, and Louis' mouth pops open, in surprise of the price tag and because Harry has just led him into what appears to be the livingroom. With a huge, black leather couch shaped like a capital L, a fancy light fixture, a huge TV, and the wall looks like it's been painted with tiny stars. "But I think it's worth it. Everything is top of the line and the highest standard. We got forty acres too, for the young ones, once they can walk. I've had them put a fence around it so we don't have to worry about them running off," Harry says and Louis sighs, almost dreamily.
He's thought of everything, Louis inwardly thinks. "Wow," he says aloud, and Harry looks over at him, surprised by the praise. He looks back outside with a smug look on his face and he's glowing. Louis smiles to himself, smug himself that he has such an effect on the gang leader. "This is so beautiful," he adds, hesitantly stroking Harry's arm. Harry quietly thanks him and pulls him away from the livingroom.
"You've seen the kitchen already, so─oh, I'm sorry," he says as his cellphone starts ringing and he takes a few steps back, turning away from Louis and putting it to his ear. Louis stands quietly and waits for a minute, listening to Harry growl into the phone, cursing colorfully every few words. It's surprising to Louis that he hasn't swore directly at him once. "─Not taken care of yet? Chandlers, do you not understand─No─No! You know what, I want you out of here by... two o'clock. I'm shipping you to the U.S., get your passport ready, your headed to Ohio," Louis looks at the wall clock and pities the faceless Chandlers. It's 1:48 right now. Louis startles when he looks away from the clock and his very tall soulie is directly in front of him. His fists are bunched up, Louis notes, but his face is soft towards Louis, apologetic. "I'm really sorry, babe. I have to go take care of a few things at the Den. This is crucial, I wouldn't just leave for no reason, okay?," he asks, trying to get Louis' consent.
"Okay," Louis whispers, wringing his fingers together, messing with the fabric of his watcher. He watches as Harry bustles around, grabbing gear and guns galore. He finds his way back to the living room and slowly sits on the soft leather couch, his mind wondering. Is their whole relationship going to center around Harry getting phone calls that whisk him away? What happens when Louis is very heavily pregnant and needs Harry there, and he's working? What happens when he needs a late night cuddle and his only option is a pillow or bunched up blanket?
He literally squeaks when Harry's scruffy face is suddenly pressed to his cheek in a fleeting kiss. Louis blushes and looks up at him. He does look devilishly handsome wearing leather. Emphasis on the 'devilishly'.
"When I get back," Harry says slowly, with promise, "We can go on our first date. You can pick the place. Pick out what you want to wear and be ready by five, okay? You can wear something that I bought you, but you're more than welcome to get anything out of my closet, too. I had it fully stocked. I wasn't expecting to meet my soulie so soon. Have a look around, I'll be back soon. Bye," Harry kisses his other cheek and his glasses will probably melt because his face is so hot.
He waits for all sounds of Harry to quiet before he makes his way upstairs, smiling softly.
+
Harry drums his fingers on the steering wheel of his car as he drives. He's so ticked off at that no-brain Chandlers. He finds the beat to 'Smile Like You Mean It' by The Killers and he sighs quietly, very happy that Louis likes the type of music he does. Louis just generally makes him happy. He feels sort of ridiculous. He's not what most consider 'warm'. He's very demanding and definitely a perfectionist. But with Louis, he would probably find a smear of spaghetti on his shirt to be a work of art fit for a museum.
You don't have to be very exquisite to recognize how handsome Louis is, Harry figures, making a turn towards the Den, He is the type of beautiful that homeless people give their money to see. The type of beautiful that, if he were around in the Renaissance, would inspire songs and sculptures, immortalizing him for people throughout the ages to admire. But people aren't like that anymore. Nobody really cares that much about beauty, just what they can get out of the person. Louis is the kind of beautiful that would steer people to ignoring their dates just to lie with him. And Harry knows that, too. That's why he's so clingy and protective of him. They've only went out in public once, but he still feels the hot jealousy in his veins from that first guy ogling him.
He stops tapping the steering wheel and tightens his grip on it. He bites his bottom lip as he enters the familiar part of town. The crossroad where all the four gangs merge. Harry's is the largest and most powerful. Poe's is the second, and he's so envious of Harry. Third is a woman, Thelma. She and her people mainly keep to theirselves, like Harry's. Fourth and the smallest and weakest is the most arrogant group. That's who Harry is having problems with, the gang led by a young guy called Williams.
He can see the bullet holes in buildings as he drives by. Only the desperate live here. Children die walking to the bus. They starve just as often. It's not living. Harry, secretly, donates a ton of his money back to the communities. Few have noticed, but living standards have started to get better.
He drives with tunnel vision, trying to ignore the poverty around him. He isn't heartless. He doesn't make another sound until he gets to the house where the meeting on the Den is going to be held. He doesn't have to search for a parking spot, everyone knows not to take his. There's three people waiting for him outside of the Web, which is what they call the meeting building, because it's perfectly in the middle of the crossroads and it weaves webs everyone together. "How's he settling?," asks Jesy, not giving Harry a moment to say anything. He crosses his arms but she doesn't back down.
"I moved him into the house today. We went shopping earlier and got him a few things. We're... we're going on out first date at five," Harry says. He knows he can't be rude to the fireier. She's something he can use if Louis ever gets terribly homesick. And the girl has always been a very good, clean member of the gang. "I told him that he could decide where we go, but do you have any, like, tips on how to make him feel more comfortable around me? I kinda... I did something bad and I don't think he trusts me like he did the first day," he says and her eyes brows furrow.
"What did you do to him?," she says, putting her arms on her hips. The dominate part of Harry's personality kicks in and he doesn't appreciate her tone. He takes a step forward and the other two people─Liam and Michael─step forward in case Harry loses control of his element again.
"I don't like your tone, ma'am. What happens in between us is going to stay between him and I. You might be his friend, but I am his soulie and your leader. So watch your tone," he says lowly and she swallows her pride and nods, blinking quickly. "Good. Now let's get this meeting started. The sooner we get this over with the better..."
+
Harry lugs himself up the stairs, disarming the alarm before he even steps in. Might as well spare Louis a fright. He throws his belts of knives a gun onto the kitchen table, discarding his leather jacket on the coat rack that he knew he'd need. "I'm home!," he shouts, and he hears a surprised yelp somewhere upstairs and chuckles to himself, walking over to the fridge, impressed that Liam stocked it precisely like he ordered. He pulls out a cup of apple juice where he usually would have gotten a beer.
He hears a door open and he assumes it's the door to the stairs. He leans against the table and waits for Louis as he hears his quiet footfalls echo through the spacious house. He smiles widely at him as he bash fully enters the kitchen, his hands are buried in the too long sleeves of one of the jumpers Harry saved from his younger years. It says 'Teenage Runaway', which does seem fitting, considering Louis is literally a teenage runaway. "Is this too casual? I...," Louis drops off, nudging his new pair of Vans against his ankle, where the hem is rolled up, showing off his ankle tattoos and vicious looking bruises. Harry's eyebrows furrow.
"No, you look amazing, perfect. But, does your leg hurt? Your arm? Your arm was pretty bad... Liam was saying something about infections and... amputating," he says, and Louis' mouth bobs. He didn't know that. He shakes his head though. He doesn't feel any pain, he took some medicine while Harry was away. It made him sleepy so he napped for a while. "Okay...," Harry says unsurely, and looks down, "I'm just going to change then we can go" Louis nods and sits down on the counter. Harry picks up his apple juice bottle and takes it with him. Louis stiffens under his touch when he kisses his cheeks again, leaving the kitchen.
It takes him about twenty seconds to breath out and he slumps down, trying to calm down. This is his first date. And he doesn't know where to go. Harry told him that he could decide where to go, but he's never been to this part of England, he doesn't even know what the name of the town is. He twiddles the sleeves to Harry's jumper while he waits. It only takes about five minutes before Harry's heavy steps are coming through the hallway, and he's opening the door. "You look good," Louis says, not being able to stop himself. He blushes scarlet and Harry smirks.
"You look better, love. But, thank you. And, have you decided where you want to go?," he asks and Louis blushes darker, hoping Harry won't be too angry.
"I─I don't know my way around here, I don't know anywhere to go," he swallows, flinching when Harry suddenly moves his hand, and he breathes out a sigh of relief when he face palms himself on the forehead.
"Yeah, yeah sorry I forgot about that. Don't worry about it, I know my way around this town, I had Clifford send me a map of everything. There's this really nice restaurant about fifteen minutes from here we'll go to, and there's a skating rink across from it," Harry offers, Louis nods.