When he first woke up, Louis was confused to feel the weight of another person on his chest. For a moment, he panicked thinking that he made the mistake of actually calling Jake like he had wanted to the past few days. It's not that he wanted to hurt Harry, necessarily, but he definitely just wanted to know that he would be fine without him. After his slip and then immediate regret of his words, his relationship with his ex-husband felt painful and enigmatic. If he had truly meant those words, then everything would still be comfortable. What does it mean to rekindle a relationship with someone you were once married to? Do you have to start all over, or could you just pick up where you left off?
Harry's light snores brought him back to reality. His heart swelled with love as he stared down at the curls stuck to his slightly damp forehead, and those perfect pink lips slightly parted into a small "o". A quiet chuckle lovingly escaped Louis. Harry's drool annoyed him towards the end of their marriage, but now it made him smile like a lovesick fool. As much as he probably needed to continue ignoring Harry for both of their sakes, he couldn't help but feel content with where they were. Desperately, he wished to wake the sleeping man up, to hear his husky morning voice. He missed waking up with Harry, morning breath and all.
He wasn't sure how much time had passed while he watched him, but he his heart faltered when Harry's eyelids finally fluttered open, rapidly blinking the sleep out of his green eyes.
"Good morning, sunshine," Louis grinned.
After a moment of confusion, he smiled lazily up at him before rubbing his eyes and dragging his hand across the curls on his forehead.
"What time is it?" he asked, feeling around for his phone.
"Well, it was around noon when I woke up, but I'm not sure what time it is now."
Harry finally found his phone tangled in the sheets, raising the screen to reveal the time. 1:05.
"You watched me for an hour? Why not just wake me up?" He asked incredulously with a slight laugh as he swung his feet over the edge of the bed. Louis frowned at the loss of Harry's warmth against him.
"I wasn't really in a rush," he shrugged. He watched his love stretch out in the air and exhale. "How did you sleep?"
"I slept better than I..." He trailed off. Louis know he was going to say he slept better than he had been sleeping without him; he felt the same.
"Me too," he blushed up at Harry, who smiled sheepishly before tugging on a black shirt he had laying around.
His apartment had become messy, and he knew as soon as he saw it that he too was having a hard time with the distance. He always denied his responsibilities, namely his cleaning duties, when even the smallest bit of depression or distraction crept upon him. It used to always annoy him before, but the messes stopped in their shared home as Harry slowly began to spend night in hotels. Now, because he knew the absence of a mess meant the absence of Harry, he didn't seem to mind it much anymore, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was glad he was upset enough about what he had said to be in this state. Of course he never wanted Harry to hurt, but he also needed some sign of regret to soften his heart towards him. Not that it ever hardened much anyway. He still was such a softy for him.
"Are you free today?" Harry asked hesitantly.
"I planned to record a few samples at the house for a new project, but I wanted to do that later tonight anyway. Why?" Much to his dismay, the words rushed out eagerly despite his greatest efforts to maintain a casual facade.
"I just thought we should talk," He paused for a second with pressed lips. "Although, admittedly, I have no idea what to say. I just know we should finally talk about... us."
His heart thudded. Excitement and anxiety weighed his stomach down. While he was eager to finally have some open communication, he was terrified that somebody would say the wrong thing. He just needed Harry to understand that, no matter how hard it would be if the feelings weren't mutual, he would still be his friend. Admittedly, he didn't feel like he had a choice anyway. Excluding Harry from his life simply wasn't an option anymore.
"Yeah, no, of course," Louis shifted awkwardly. "Well, how about I get started on my work now and come back later? Say, six o'clock-ish?"
Harry nodded with a tight smile on his face. He seemed to be nervous too.
"Yeah, that's fine," He took a few steps towards his bathroom, snatching a discarded towel from his dresser as he walked. "I'm going to have a shower. See you later?"
"Yes," He said, standing up. He knew this was a polite dismissal of sorts. He wasn't sure why this felt so awkward for the both of them. When he woke up with him, he wanted a cozy time in bed, not whatever this was.
Nonetheless, Louis quickly shuffled to the door of the apartment, too enveloped in his thoughts to even look back at Harry.
As he waited for the lift, he wondered why it felt so weird in there. Was this the end for them? Was Harry uncomfortable with being nice to him when the end was so close upon them? Or did he just need time to sort out his thoughts himself?
That seemed more like Harry. He suspected that he didn't want to say anything too hopeful for fear of giving his hopes up while also not deflating Louis' joy completely. After all, he had said he still had no clue what he wanted or what he would say.
With the ding of the elevator, he stepped in and waited for his floor, muttering a quick hello to the pair of feet he saw, his gaze still averted to the floor as he thought of Harry.
"Louis?"
He stiffened at the sound of the familiar voice of his American ex-fling. Guilt overwhelmed him. He had been meaning to at least let him know he was okay, but he just had been so busy. Jake hadn't called but once, leaving a voicemail to Louis to call him when he was home. He had listened to it while Harry was peppering sweet kisses on his chest; of course he had been too distracted to call in that moment.
"Jake, how are you?" He noticed the luggage beside his left leg and raised a brow. "Been out of town?"
That explained why he hadn't known Louis was back, nor had he known with certainty about the nature of Louis' relationship with Harry. He likely had his suspicions though. There was no way he was that oblivious.
"Yes, well, after that day," he began pointedly. "I saw I wasn't needed at the moment. I needed to go see my family in Michigan. I was long overdue for a visit anyway."
Louis could sense some resentment in his tone, and honestly, he couldn't really blame him. I'm sure it would feel like shit to be in his shoes. As annoying as he sometimes was, he certainly didn't deserve to be caught in this drama with Harry. He wouldn't win anyway. He had accepted before now that regardless of Harry's choice, it would be a while, maybe even forever, before he could love someone again, and even then, it would never be the same as his love for Harry.
"Listen, I'm sorry I didn't call Jake," Louis raked a hand through his hair. The elevator has stopped now, and they both stepped out into their shared hallway. "Things have just been crazy with— with everything."
Harry's name was implied, but he didn't dare to add salt to the wound.
Jake nodded solemnly, his jaw clenched slightly. Louis could sense he was more upset than he was letting on.
"Whatever you do is up to you, Louis. I didn't expect much from us anyway," he began to take out his keys and step towards his door. "But if you think for a second that Harry won't hurt you again, if he hasn't already, then I really feel sorry for you."
Louis didn't have time to defend himself or Harry. Jake has already slipped into his apartment, and he heard him slamming his luggage around now, clearly irritated.
As much remorse as he now felt for his treatment of Jake, he still couldn't help the edge of vexation in his thoughts. Jake had no idea who Harry was, and he'd even go as far to saw that Jake hardly knew who he was. There relationship didn't have much substance admittedly. In fact, now that he realized, he likely chose Jake to piss Harry off more than anything. Even that night they had sex, he remembered being purposely loud with hopes that his ex-husband would hear it. It certainly wasn't as good as he made it out to be that night, and it certainly was nothing compared to Harry.
Shaking thoughts of Harry entangled with him out of his head, he entered his apartment and immediately got to work in the little room he converted into a studio of sorts. Welcoming the distraction, he pushed all thoughts of Harry to the back of his mind and threw himself into his work.
***
When the clock finally read 5:55, Louis eagerly leapt from his bed. After a few hours of diligent work, he couldn't keep Harry out of his head anymore and decided to give it a break. The deadlines weren't for a while anyway, but he always preferred to start early rather than rushing himself later. Unlike his ex, he was awful at procrastinating. He never understood how Harry was always so good at doing things last minute.
When he had decided to give up, he showered and shaved before selecting an casual outfit he knew Harry would like. He wore a simple color-block t-shirt with light hands and grey Adidas. Although it seemed a simple enough outfit, he had spent the greater part of an hour deciding exactly what to wear. To dress up would put too much levity on the situation, but to underdress would make it seem like he didn't care. He knew he was overthinking, but he couldn't help it.
While he waited, he was certain he heard the vacuum running in Harry's flat, and that had relaxed him a bit. He cared enough to clean, at least, and that was a step in the right direction in his eyes.
He stood from the couch he had been lounging in and turned off the TV he hadn't really been watching anyway. No inane sitcom or reality garbage could have distracted him from his worries. He knew that tonight could change everything.
He was so nervous, he hadn't even noticed the elevator doors had already open to Harry's hallway. He took a tentative step towards the familiar four and gave a gentle knock. After a moment, the door widened to reveal Harry standing there, an anxious smile on his face.
"Come in," He stepped aside and revealed his clean home.
He could smell a vanilla candle burning from the dining table, the fragrance mingling with the mouth-watering scent of Harry's divine roasted chicken. As delightful as it smelled, he wondered if he would even be able to eat in this state.
"Smells amazing, H." Louis made use of the old nickname with a smile.
"It won't be ready for another hour," He informed. "I thought that would give us some time to talk beforehand."
That made him nervous. What if their talk was so painful for them that neither wanted to share a meal after? On the other hand, it gave him a slight hope that Harry had realized what he would say and decided it wasn't bad enough to ruin a meal together.
"Let's sit," Harry said as he gestured to the couch. The formality in his tone made Louis nervous. He didn't understand why he couldn't just be himself right now.
After a moment of silence was shared between them, Louis cleared his throat.
"Can I start?" He asked, not really knowing what exactly he was going to say. He knew how he felt, and he hoped that was enough to help him find the words along the way.
"Yes," He replied, his teeth biting his lip nervously. Louis instinctively reached his thumb for his lip, and Harry's mouth opened slightly.
"Harry, I love you. I want to kiss you right now, probably more than ever. I want to fall asleep with you pressed against me and wake up with your curls in a messy halo on your head. I want to make love with you again, Harry. I want to hold your hand and cuddle with you. I want to hear your worst fears and celebrate your biggest triumphs. I want to be your best friend and your loyal husband. I want to be with you, whatever that means for you.
"I would suck it up and be just a friend to you. I would be glad to simply date you even though all want to do is to meet you at the altar and declare our love once more. As much as I want you to love me, I need you enough to accept whatever piece of you that you may offer. Those days without you after tasting your lips again were insufferable. I was miserable. I would be your friend, watch you marry somebody else, watch you live your life the way you always wanted if it meant I would never have to lose you again.
"I've never loved someone the way I love you, Harry, and I know you don't believe in all the fate bullshit. I know you don't believe in divine intervention, but something miraculous happened for us to meet again. Something happened to make me realize that I never stopped loving you in the first place, never. We had our problems. Of course, we can work through whatever we need to, but I can't lose you. Not again. I won't make it this time, Harry.
"So, please just keep me here in whatever way you want. I know it's pathetic to beg for one ounce of your love, but I don't care. I don't care what everyone else says. I know that, as fucked up as it may be, you're the person in this world that has the power to destroy me. I know that I need you, Harry, so please, just give me something, anything."
He finished, not realizing that tears were flowing freely from his cheeks now. He wished so desperately that he could touch Harry's face and swipe the few tears that shed from his eyes too now. There was a long silence before Harry finally spoke.
"Louis, I... I love you. I've come to realize that now, but Lou, have you considered that I'm simply not good for you? Have you considered that the amount of pain I have inflicted upon you is a sign of the toxicity I radiate? I mean, it's my fault we ended. What if that happens again? What if we crash and burn and break into such tiny pieces that we aren't the same anymore? Last time we only got through it all because we grew to hate each other. Tell me how this is possible."
Harry's voice was pleading now, and Louis ached even more. While hearing his profession of love brought warmth to him, the hopelessness and anguish in his voice felt like a sharp stab to his chest. What made it all worse was that he didn't really have a perfect solution for them. He couldn't reassure Harry that it would work out the way they both so desperately wanted to.
But it didn't matter anyway. Not to him. Why would they need this perfectly mapped out to act on what they felt? The best decisions they made in their relationship were always based on love and maybe a bit of impulse.
"I... that doesn't matter, Harry," he began, peering up at his husband who already gave him a doubtful look. "Just..."
He trailed off, not really sure how to word the passion and pure love he felt for him. What could he say to make it clear that this time was different, that he loved him so absolutely that it almost hurt. He felt like a character out of some disgustingly sappy romance novel, but Harry had worn his cynicism down so much with his light and warmth. How could he not be better with him? After all this, couldn't he see this was fate at work? What are the chances that they would cross paths so intimately again? Of all the apartments in this city, why this one?
But what if Harry just didn't want him? The thought paralyzed him.
The warmth spread through his body, and his eyes prickled with tears. He was overwhelmed by all of these feelings he had kept safely tucked away. As much as he didn't want Harry to notice, he knew he would. He seemed to notice everything. His heart raced; he wasn't sure if from panic, love, or agony.
"Louis." He said firmly, placing his hands on either side of his face.
The tears hadn't left Louis' eyes yet, but he could feel it coming. His face was still wet from the last wave. They could only be held in so long. His vision was so thick with emotion that he could hardly make out Harry's face. Still, even with tears clouding his vision, he could hear the firm yet concerned strain in his voice. Harry knew him best, and based off his reaction, he realized that he was concerned about a panic attack. He hadn't used that voice on Louis in ages. It used to be the only thing that could bring him back from the edge.
Frustrated with himself, he balled his fists and pushed them into his eyes, willing the tears to go back inside where they belonged. Of course, this only made them finally flow freely. The hyperventilating hadn't started yet, which meant it was still preventable for him. He wasn't completely lost yet, not until his breathing grew ragged and his body shook. He hoped he could stop it before the point of no return.
"D-Distract me," he whimpered, trying to control the air coming in and out of his lungs. It felt like he was breathing smoke.
"Erm," Harry fished for a neutral subject, but he was having trouble thinking too. He should've known to be prepared for this. "Just think of how much I love you, Louis. No matter what happens, it'll be okay, right?"
He tried to focus on his face, on his stunning emerald eyes. Harry's eyes were still wet from earlier, but the tears has stopped. Harry's body had probably understood that it wouldn't do either of them good if they both crumbled.
But he was determined not to crumble. He had told himself a million times that no matter what happened, it would be okay. He had told Harry that they would be okay. Was he a liar now? Was there another thing to add onto his growing list of worries and insecurities? Shitty husband to Harry? Check. Shitty friend to Jake? Check. Shitty son to his mum? Check. Maybe he wasn't even enough for Harry.
As if he heard the thoughts in Louis' head, Harry pushed his forehead to his and pressed harder against him. He tried to focus on the soft skin radiating heat against him. He entangled his hands in Harry's curls, desperately wanting to feel present, to stay here with him rather than drifting to the in-between of his panic attacks.
They were very aware of the proximity of their faces; it was the only thing keeping Louis grounded. It was the only thing making Harry flush. He wanted to kiss him and take him far away from the worries in this place.
Slowly, they leaned towards each other, a soft laugh leaving Louis' lips as he realized how disgusting he must look with snot dripping from his nose and his lips wet with tears. This wasn't going to be a great kiss, but neither seemed to care about this fact. Harry smiled too, and then two lips were one. It was wet and salty, yet warm and comforting. There was no pressure to take it further; they simply sat with their closed lips making small movements, an act of comfort.
They both pulled away at once, and although Louis still felt a little shaky, the display of love calmed his nerves enough to slowly pull him from the edge.
"You need me," Harry stated quietly. There was no condemnation in his voice, only understanding.
"Yes."
He cocked his head to the side, seemingly observing the vulnerable blue-eyed man in front of him.
"I need you to0," he spoke finally as if he were making a decision with those words.
Louis reached his hand to Harry's and held it for a moment. He kept his eyes on their hands and wondered what it all meant to him. He wondered if one honest conversation would be enough, or if it would take thousands of honest conversations before Harry finally trusted himself with Louis again. Trusting Louis wasn't the issue for him, but rather the lack of faith he had in himself to not fuck up again. Hurting Louis again simply wasn't an option, but neither was leaving him.
"We can do this, Harry," he said with an urgent begging in his voice.
Harry finally nodded slowly, his eyebrows furrowed. Louis could see the worry in his face,and he knew that both of them had the very same goal of not hurting one another.
"We will try, Lou," he squeezed the hand in his gently. "What do we do know? Tell me how we get better. Just because we're in love again doesn't mean all of our old problems have dissolved, you know? Even if it does feel like everything is different."
"We'll go to therapy, and we can take it slow. We don't need to move our lives into each other so suddenly again. For now, our money can remain separate. We can live separately, although I can't promise I won't be over here all the time."
Harry chuckled at that.
"And I can't promise that I'll ever let you leave anyway," he replied, the dimple showing on his cheek. "But we'll try."
Louis nodded, a weight lifted from his shoulders. Harry stood too, heading to the kitchen where the timer was beeping, announcing dinner to the couple.
"We'll try."
***
QUESTION BELOW!
Hey, guys!
It's Michelle here. I know I've been slacking, but I wrote a longer chapter to make up for it. As far as the book, I've recently been struggling with something, and I figure I would ask my dear readers.
Although I believe most of the choices I make in my writing should be made alone to not spoil the experience, I wanted to ask if you guys would want me to right any sex scenes? I have written some smut before, but I just have been unsure if it would be received well in this work.
Please let me know, and if you don't feel comfortable commenting your answer, feel free to message me. I check my notifications at least once a day, so I'll be keeping an eye out for an answer.
Thank you guys!
-Michelle