part nineteen
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“she’ll love you, baby, quit fidgeting, please,” harry chuckles fondly, grabbing louis’ hands as he starts to fiddle with how his dress is situated on his body. his comforting only gets him a scowl and eye roll. “i’m serious, lou, she’s going to love you,” he adds, pulling louis into his chest, kissing his forehead. he doesn’t know if he should regret telling louis that his mum was coming down, but it’s too late now. he would be meeting her, regardless.
louis scoffs, tucking his head under harry’s chin. “what if she doesn’t, though? what if she thinks that I’m... weird?," he whispers, memories of all of his mental breakdowns playing in his mind. he really can’t have that right now, not at this dinner. “harry, she’s flying all the way up from kansas to be here, to see you — what makes you think she’s interested in seeing me?,” he asks, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s waist.
it’s been a little over 7 months since the car accident that cost harry a foot and louis 2 toes, and harry’s mum has just roused up enough money to fly from the states, over to the uk. louis still fells bad, because when they were in the hospital, he had an arsenal of visitors: jesy, leigh-anne, ashton, his mum and his 6 siblings at his hospital door. and harry had calum and zayn, with the occasional michael and perrie. and he was much worse than louis — he had to stay in the hospital for nearly over a month.
after what felt like an excruciating amount of time, but was only about 2 weeks, he was able to be with louis in his room for extended amounts of time. which meant he also got louis’ visitors. which also meant ashton. which meant a clingy and possessive harry who wouldn’t move his arm from his shoulder, kissing his hair whenever he got the chance.
he hasn’t gotten over that yet, the clinginess, and it’ll have been a year in 5 months. “of course she’ll want to see you, she didn’t save up for this long to not meet you,” harry rolls his eyes, “i just wish she would’ve taken some of the money i offered her. it's from my dad's paycheck... but she doesn't know that,” he chuckles, and louis cracks a little grin, pulling away from harry a little to kiss his jaw before stepping away completely, making harry pout.
placing his hands on his hips, he looks up at harry, pursing his lips. “okay… well if i’ve gotta be there, i have to clean up a little,” he points out, his eyebrows furrowed and harry’s rolling his eyes now, obviously wanting to give the ‘you-don’t-need-to-clean-up’ card, but louis holds out an extended hand and harry – grudgingly – lets himself be led through louis and jesy’s flat and into the toilet, clumsily plopping down on the side of the bath tub — still not used to the prosthetic foot — as louis pulls out his make-up bag from under the sink. “mm… what time is she suppose to be here?,” he asks, harry settling on the cold surface of the tub.
this has become their thing; louis doing his make-up while harry sits on the tub and keeps him company, maybe adjusting how the foot attaches to his leg. “we’ve got to meet her at the airport in fourty-five minutes to pick her up. then we’re going to go out and eat… use the candy floss colored one?,” harry suggests absently as louis uncaps a lipstick, and louis smiles at him through the reflections in the mirror. harry always requests that he wear that color. “and maybe just a light mascara. and that wing-thingy you did with your liquid eye stuff?,” he adds, and louis’ lips become a flat line to keep himself from bursting out in laughter. “what?,”harry huffs in defense, crossing his arms over his chest, pouting, making louis lean forward and dab a little bit of the pink lip stain onto his lip, causing him to blink in surprise, then look at louis crossly.
louis giggles, turning back to the mirror as harry wipes the lipstick off. “nothing, nothing... but… say; if you’re such a master at fashion, why don’t you go pick me a pair of shoes out to match this dress,” he requests, using his thumb to direct harry to the large shoe pile that is spilling out of the closet in the toilet room. louis pats his bum as he walks by, slumped a little, and grins at his scowl. “and no heels! don’t want to fall and look like a fool,” he says with the sudden thought, and harry looks at him incredulously.
“lou. you can run in heels. i doubt you’d fall. but... these would look really good with that dress… since it’s completely black," harry suggests, holding up a holographic doc martin with black shoelaces. they cost louis over £200 and he hasn’t even wore them yet. “where did you buy them, anyways?,” he asks, looking at how it changes color in light as louis applies a little mascara to his left eye, his hands shaking a little — they never really lost the light tremor that he got from the accident.
“jesy and our friend leslie talked me into buying them, like, thirty years ago,” he says, contorting his face as he tries to coat his eyelashes as well as he can, hollowing his cheeks out.
“you’re only twenty-two,” harry rolls his eyes, and louis moves the brush away from his eye to turn and grin at harry, making a funny face. “ha-ha, you’re so funny…,” he scoffs, picking up the matching shoe to the one in his hand before putting his prosthetic foot flat on the ground, using the door handle to support himself as he stands up, dusting off his bum. “but, seriously, these shoes are so cool,” he says, and louis nods in agreement, and harry kisses his cheek as he sets the shoes on the sink.
“i’d hope they were cool. cost a fortune…,” he laughs quietly, blinking his eyes quickly to try and get his eyelashes to not feel so clumped up. “good choice, by the way, babes, I think they do go very good with this dress. thank-you for buying it for me, by the way…,” he blushes, ducking his head a little as harry coos at him. “don’t patronize me, styles,” he huffs, swatting at harry’s chest as the taller boy leans down to kiss his ear.
“i’m not patronizing you. you just don’t gotta keep saying thank-you for it. it was a six month-aversary,” he points out, “you got me something, too”
that makes louis groan again. he possibly got him the lamest gift ever. “yeah, a car sticker…,” he mutters, and harry groans.
“it is sentimental. very little often have I ever gotten a car sticker of a cowboy in lingerie,” harry points out, and just like every time it’s been brought up, he has to desperately try to control his laughter. but that just makes louis huff, crossing his arm,s over his chest as he stares up at harry, pouting.
“the order said that it was a cowboy with the date we became official on it…,” he scoffs, and harry has to contain his laughter again.
“it actually does have the date on it…,” harry points out, and louis’ face flushes red, and he buries his face in his hands, a few giggle slipping out.
“yeah, but it didn’t say that it’d be on the crotch…
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“look out for a woman with dark black hair. she said she’s wearing cover-alls and a red scarf,” harry says, nudging louis a little as he hold the sign up that is for his mum, it says ‘her majesty anne twist’ written in big black letters, and louis gets the idea that harry and his mum are very close. he can also tell by the look of excitement on his face. how he can’t seem to stand still, even though standing still is the easier option for him now. “she told me that her flight had already touched down, that she was at baggage…,” he peters off, pursing his lips, leaning on louis a little as he looks over his head.
they stand there for a little while longer, both looking around in determination, and they’re so focused that they don’t notice the beautiful woman stalk over to them, trying to be sneaky. but they do notice when she makes a loud ‘rah!’ sound, making them both scream out and jump in surprise. “gottcha!,” anne hoots, and harry’s face breaks a little, and he dives into his mum’s open arms, wrapping his large arms around her small neck, and they rock each other back and forth a little, and louis nearly coos at how damn adorable that is. “you’ve got so tall…,” anne remarks, stroking at her son’s back, “you need a hair cut,” she adds, and louis covers his mouth with his hands to keep from laughing, but that only succeeds in catching anne’s attention, and she leans away from harry a little to get a look at the boy in front of her, and louis’ heart drops in fear as she pats harry’s arm and steps towards louis, looking him up and down, as if assessing him. “I really like your shoes,” is all she says before she wraps her arms around his neck, doing the same sway movement she did with harry as louis returns the hug.
“t-thank you, mrs. twist,” she stammers as she pulls away from hi, too, adjusting her scarf around her neck, grinning widely, rolling her eyes.
“am i going to have to do the whole cliché ‘don’t-call-me-mrs.-twist-call-me-anne’-thing?,” she asks with raised eyebrows, and louis finally cracks a relieved grin, comforted by the gentle, kind look in her eyes — the same one that she seems to have passed down onto harry. “okay, then… hello, love, I’m anne. you are?,” she asks, even though she is well aware of who this is.
louis looks over at harry, and the taller boy gives him a sweet smile, walking towards him to wrap him in his arms, “my name’s louis. louis tomlinson. nice to finally meet you, anne,” he says, fiddling with the bottom of his dress, and he leans into harry a little, so, so, so relieved. “do you want me to get your bag for you? you and harry could use some catching up,” he offers, but harry jumps on it before anne can even reply.
“absolutely not. i’ll take that, my lovely mother. you, my love, shall carry the sign,” harry says dramatically, scooping the heavy suitcase from beside his mother’s feet, leaning up to hand louis the identification sign. if it was anybody else, that might have been a bit condescending, but louis sighs in content, knowing that harry is just an all around gent. “and where, on this glorious day, should we go out to eat?,” he asks, looking between anne and louis.
“i don’t know this area,” anne says as soon as she realizes that the question was sort of aimed at her. “why don’t we have lou decide?,” she recommends, and louis answers before he even thinks about it.
“azmerelda’s”
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a/n:
just under 2k words! getting back in the groove! and if you don’t remember ‘ezmerelda’s’, that was where they went that first day, with calum.
and i have a crucial question that i hadn’t put much thought into until recently... would anybody want this to become an mpreg? because i could totally dig that.