"I know you went into my room, so how much of my stuff did you actually see?" Louis randomly asked one cold December day. The previous night had been the first snowfall of the year, so the ground was covered in fluffy white snow.
"Just the file on your bed. I didn't want to go through your stuff," Harry replied honestly. He was curious as hell, of course, but it was times like these when he was glad he had been a good person.
"So you didn't look through..." Louis trailed off, holding the brown journal up in his hand.
"Of course not," Harry said. Again, truthfully. "I know you keep that really secretive."
Louis blushed. "I really appreciate that."
That was their entire conversation for the school day. Harry spent the rest of class working on his essay. He wrote down his points, smiling like a madman as he thought of more things to say. Once in a while, Louis would look over at him and chuckle. Harry would give a fake offended look, but they exchanged no words.
After school, Louis met Harry at his locker. He had been walking home with Harry every day lately. Louis's sisters had dance class after school, so his house would be empty. And Harry's house was always empty.
For the first few days after the incident, Harry's mom went out of her way to be in Harry's line of sight. She would sit on the couch in the living room or the head of the marble table where his dad used to be. Eventually, that stopped and she started spending more and more time in her room where Harry never saw her.
It didn't affect Harry too much since he often went to work at the bakery, and when he was home, Louis was with him. Harry was just concerned about his mother, who spent a lot of time alone these days.
The two boys made their way up the stairs and into Harry's room. They sat in silence for a bit, both reading their homework or a book.
Harry wrote a quick note in the margin of the thick book he was reading, before looking up at Louis again. He has noticed how quiet Louis was being today. Of course, Louis was a quiet person in general, Harry knew that, but today was different. Louis was fidgeting with his sleeves, tapping his fingers, biting his lip, and pretty much performing every nervous tick you could possibly think of.
"I found a way around it." Louis finally said, breaking the silence.
"Around what?" Harry furrowed his eyebrows, looking confused. One of the only things Louis' said today, and it made absolutely no sense.
"Feeling your dad," Louis admitted quietly. "You know... on my arms."
Harry's heart sunk in his chest. He knew where this was going, he just wished it wasn't. He reluctantly asked, "what's your solution?"
"My thighs. I don't feel him there." Louis whispered. He put down his book facedown, saving the page. He rested a hand on the side of his pants, the outside of his upper thigh.
"Baby," If it was possible, Harry's heart would be on the ground between his feet. "Please tell me you didn't."
"I did and I'm sorry. I regretted it right after I did it and I regret it now. I'm sorry Haz." Louis put his head down. Harry swore he saw a tear drip down, but it was gone in an instant.
"I'm sorry Lou, but I've gotta ask." Harry bit his lip timidly. His question was sitting on his tongue, but he was too afraid to say it. "Was it something I did?"
Louis jerked his head up. "No! It wasn't you. It's never you."
Harry sighed in relief. He didn't know what he would do if he somehow hurt Louis.
"I just," the younger boy continued. "I got so overwhelmed and it felt like my walls were closing in, you know? It just felt like so much stress and tension and something inside me was just begging me to release it. So I did, you know?" Please just don't be mad at me Haz, I'll never do it again, I swear."
When the tears started falling down his face, Harry knew what he had to do. On instinct, he got up and wrapped the smaller boy in his arms.
He whispered reassurances in his ear like, "It's okay," "I'm not mad," "I love you."
When the boy had calmed down and was just letting out the occasional hiccup, Harry pulled back.
"Just so you know, if I ever fuck up so bad that I somehow hurt you," Harry started, "it's never your fault."
"Bu-" Louis started to protest but was quickly cut off by Harry's voice.
"Seriously. I don't want any of this 'I hurt you, you hurt you' crap," Harry said with a straight face. "If I hurt you, you smack me in the freaking face, okay?"
Louis giggled, and to Harry, it was the most glorious sound in the entire world. It picked up Harry's cold, dead heart from off of the floor, and shoved it back into his chest, where it belonged.
"Also," Harry smirked, "When did you start calling me Haz?"
~
"Can't believe it's almost Christmas," Harry said after a moment of silence. He was looking across his room at his calendar, where twelve days of December had already been crossed off.
"You have any plans?" Louis shifted slightly, looking up towards Harry.
"Nah, we never do anything," Harry said lightly. He never told anybody that it actually upset him that they never had a proper Christmas.
They were better when Harry was younger, but still not a family Christmas experience. The best they had was when Harry was seven. They actually put up a tree that year. Not even a fake one. His dad went out and bought a real fir, one that's smell filled the entire room. Harry remembered that huge tree that filled up the room. He had adorned it with little lights and ornaments that brightened the room.
It filled up the atrium of their house. The one that has stood empty ever since. Shortly after New Years, his father complained that the smell was giving him a headache and that the fir needles were making a mess. The tree got thrown out soon after that.
Over the years, the twenty-fifth just became a normal day. Harry wouldn't leave the house because the holiday cheer would suffocate him. It's not like anything was open anyways. He tried to stay off the internet, anything that would remind him the day was anything special.
"How about you?" Harry continued with the same light tone.
"We kind of make a big deal out of it in my house, "Louis' cheeks flushed red. He grabbed a pillow from beside him an hugged it. "My birthday's on the day before, so we kind of just celebrate for three days straight."
"Oh, that's right!" Harry shot his head up, smiling hugely. "Your birthday's coming up! I have to think of the perfect thing for you."
"You don't have to get me anything, really," Louis insisted, but Harry wasn't going to have any of that.
"Don't be ridiculous. Why wouldn't I get anything for my amazing, awesome, perfect, hot, totally amazing boyfriend?" Harry smirked.
Louis smacked him with a pillow.
"He's just so amazing you know? And those eyes!" Harry made a long, drawn-out moan for the sole purpose of embarrassing the boy.
"Harry! Stoooop!" Louis pouted, smacking him again.
"Fine then. I totally won't get you any fabulous birthday gifts," Harry knew he sounded very suspicious, which was good because he was trying to sound as suspicious as possible.
The way he was talking kind of sounded like he knew exactly what he was getting for Louis, but to be honest, he had no idea what to get the boy. He just knew that it had to be perfect. As perfect as Louis was. Well, almost, because he was pretty sure that no one and nothing could ever get close to how perfect Louis was.
The boy made his heart melt, which was terrible because he was starting to turn into one of those sappy, lovey-dovey people that he used to hate so much.
They spent the rest of the day laying in bed at watching movies. Louis would judge everything the main character did, getting angry when they were being stupid. Harry would just laugh at the smaller boy, not really paying attention to the movie. Honestly, he was just watching Louis at this point.
"Oh come on! What sensible person would go through that door!" Louis threw his hands up in the air, shaking his head. "I swear, the people in this movie! They just want to die!"
Harry snickered.
"What're you laughing at!" Louis scowled in his direction.
"You look funny," Harry smiled. "All tiny and angry."
"I'm not tiny! I'm big!"
"Yea, you keep telling yourself that," Harry playfully patted his head.
Louis made a little 'hmph' sound and motioned to the computer screen. "Just so you know, if you're ever that stupid, I'm dumping you."
"You can't dump me if I'm dead though," Harry said, then immediately got smacked with a pillow.
"Harry! Don't say that!"
"Why do you keep hitting me with my pillow?" Harry grabbed his second pillow and smacked him back.
"Are we seriously having a pillow fight right now?"
"Yep!" Harry yelled, then sent his pillow flying at Louis' face.
The smaller boy yelled out something that resembled a battle cry, then Harry was suddenly being assaulted by a fluffy white mass.
He managed to somehow grab on to Louis' pillow and yank it out of his hand. He stood tall with a pillow in each hand, cornering Louis on the bed.
"Whatcha gonna do now LouLou?" Harry teased, waving the two pillows in his hand.
"Look!" Louis pointed. "A UFO!"
Harry looked. Maybe it was because it was stupid, or maybe he just really liked UFOs. But for some reason, he looked out the window. Perhaps he really was as stupid as the girl who died in the movie.
Louis quickly ducked under Harry's outstretched arm and made a mad dash to the other side of the room, grabbing a pillow out of Harry's hand on his way past him.
"Damn it!" Harry pouted. "Look what you did Lou! Now I'm all sad."
Louis chuckled and shrugged. "Sorry babe, not my problem."
Harry charged him, wildly swinging his pillow back and forth. Louis stuck his arm out, blocking his face from the fluffy attacker. A loud rip was heard through the room, and Louis cracked up laughing at the torn pillow in Harry's hand.
"What're you going to do now?" Louis stuck his tongue out, teasing Harry and his broken pillow. His own pillow was still clutched in his fist.
An idea popped into Harry's head, and he smirked at Louis.
"Uh oh," Louis took a step back. "Harry's thinking. That's never good."
He chuckled and lunged for Louis' pillow in his hand. At the last second, his arms went to the smaller boy's torso, picking his up, and throwing him on the bed. Louis shrieked, dropping his pillow on the carpet as his feet were lifted off of the ground.
"A little birdie told me you were ticklish," Harry felt himself smirk even harder if that was even possible.
"Ah! No! Tickling isn't allowed in pillow fights," Louis tried to wiggle away, but Harry wasn't going to let that happen.
"You started this fight, Lou. Don't you know that I'm the far superior pillow fighter?" Harry attacked Louis' torso, tickling the boy through his sweater.
"Ah stop it!" Louis squirmed away from Harry, laughing in between sharp breaths.
"Are you sorry?" Harry asked, momentarily stopping.
"Yea, sure," Louis said quickly. He probably wasn't even sure what he was sorry about.
Harry shrugged. "Good enough."
The ended up laying on the bed, their chests rising and falling in sync. The stared at the ceiling, not saying much. Just listening to each other's breath and enjoying the company.
If Harry did end up dying stupidly like a dumb movie character and this was the last moment of his life, he wouldn't be too mad.
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