Chapter Text
"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray: grant thou, lest faith turn to despair." — William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet.
The mirror Louis looked into the following morning laughed at him. Louis sucked a sharp breath through his teeth, leaning forward to examine what he pleaded was a trick of the light.
It was not, of course.
What it was, that Louis found himself alarmed to see, was not his dreadful bed hair or the morning swell of his skin. It was the three dark purple bruises spotted upon the hollow of his collarbone and his lower neck; tattoos of Harry's lips.
"Wear a collared shirt," Harry suggested from beside him, leaning against the counter and watching Louis, his lips struggling to hold down his grin. "Or steal your sisters' foundation."
Louis groaned, throwing his hands over his face, "I will not be stealing my sisters' foundation."
"Then collared shirt it is," Harry said. He threw his arms over Louis' shoulders, tracing the bruises with his fingertips. "They don't look half-bad, Louis."
"Just get me the shirt," Louis sighed, Harry grinned at him in the mirror and stepped away, ruffling Louis' hair up with his hands.
Louis ran his fingers over the smudges of reddish purple Harry had left behind. They were eminent against the pale skin of his neck, red wine staining white tablecloth. Louis hated how much he admired the evidence of Harry's lust, the lopsided remains of pressured kisses.
Within any other occasion, such marks Louis would cherish, and adore. However, currently, it was not such an occasion and Louis had plans for the entire following day with his family. Harry returned with a collared t-shirt slung over his arm.
"Is this one mine?" Louis asked, taking the shirt from him.
Harry nodded, "The one you stole from me is stiff from the seawater, I found this one in your bag."
Louis held up the shirt in front of his face. It was the same dark grey shirt he had debated over wearing the night they went out for dinner. Louis tugged the baggy white t-shirt he had worn to bed the previous night over his head, replacing it with the button-up Harry had brought out for him.
Louis met Harry's eyes in the mirror, his fingers fumbling over the first buttons of his shirt. He shook his head with a growing smile. "Keep it in your pants."
"Louis!" Harry exclaimed through a combination of shock and amusement. "You are unbelievable."
Louis threaded the last of the buttons through their designated slits. Louis bit down on the corner of his lips as Harry stepped forward, flattening down his half-folded collar. He scanned Louis' neck for any visible signs of his undoing.
"You can still see a bit of this one here," Harry informed, tracing a spot on Louis' neck, closer to the dip of his throat. "It shouldn't be too noticeable though."
Louis turned back to the mirror, squinting at the small sliver of red that poked out from beneath the dark grey of his collar. Unless physically pointed out, it most likely would be unperceived by his family, hopefully saving him from a discussion he currently dreaded to face.
"It'll have to do," he sighed, fiddling with the collar. "God, you're such an arse. You couldn't have done this to me at a less reasonable time."
"Calm down, Lou," Harry chuckled, "it's just a hickey... or three, it's not the end of the world."
"Fuck off. That's pretty easy for you to say," Louis scowled. He lifted his hand to Harry's shoulder in a gesture for him to follow him out of the bathroom. "At least tell me you are ready, we should be leaving in about five."
Harry made a face and warily stepped back out of the bathroom. Louis sighed and followed him back into his bedroom, watching as Harry piled a couple of items into his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He nodded, his hands jolting upward into a thumbs-up.
"Mhm, I'm ready."
It took much longer than only five minutes for everybody to finally leave the house, time that could have well been spent on adjusting the visibility of the marks on Louis' neck. To make matters more complicated, the family car did not have enough seats for both Harry and Louis to squeeze into, so as a result, they were made to take Louis' car.
Louis slid into the driver's seat, turning the keys in the ignition. The car was hot upon entering, the metal of the seatbelt scorching to the touch. An ideal day for the beach, that would be if Louis wasn't forced to keep his collared shirt on the entire day. He rolled down the window, pressing his foot down on the gas and sighing with pleasure as the humidity of the car swiftly diminished.
If Louis hadn't had enough of the beach this week, he was granted yet another day to spend on the sand. The plan had been made the previous night at dinner to spend their first and only day together down at Brighton Beach, the beach on which Louis had spent so very much of his childhood.
It was the beach where he had first ever discovered the serenity of diving beneath waves. The beach he had first been taught of skipping stones when the waves died down into nothing but tiny mounds of water. It was the beach he had grown up and covertly never loved, however, this time he strived to enjoy his return.
"What are you thinking about, Louis?" Harry questioned as Louis looked dazedly through the windshield for a free parking spot.
"I haven't been here in a while," Louis said, turning to Harry as he waited for a car to reverse from its parking spot so he could take it. "I barely went as a teenager, it's weird to be back."
"It'll be fun," Harry clasped his hand around Louis' and pressed soft kisses against each knuckle. "Even if we can't swim."
"Is that why you did this to me, you fucker?" Louis scoffed, gesturing to the marks on his neck. "So I would be forced to stay on the sand with you?"
Harry scrunched up his face, "No. I did that because I like you, Louis."
Louis' eyes immediately darted back to the windshield, his cheeks stinging with a pink tint he knew was rapidly growing visible. It was something Louis had to get used to. The way with even bare-aimed affection, Louis' words would die in his throat, his cheeks flushing in haste. Never had anybody had such an effect on his demeanour, sending him crashing to the floor with admiration?
But Harry, oh Harry. He was not just anybody, that was for sure.
Louis successfully pulled the car into park, flicking his eyes back at Harry for one single peek before shaking his head at himself and hopping out. He lifted the trunk, grabbed a towel, and passed Harry his bag.
"Why didn't you bring a bag?" Harry asked, taking notice of the only item Louis had in his hands the blue and white striped beach towel.
"Because you have one," Louis gestured to the tote bag slung over Harry's shoulder. Harry pulled one side of the bag away from him to open, squinting his eyes at the bag's contents.
He pulled out a pair of sunglasses, "Hey, when did these get in here?"
"Before," Louis shrugged, taking the sunglasses from Harry's hand and perching them on his head. "I saw you brought Romeo and Juliet."
"I did," Harry nodded, his eyes narrowing at the sunglasses before letting his eyes meet Louis again. "We need to occupy ourselves with something if we aren't swimming."
Louis' mouth curved into a smile, "I can't tell which is worse. My parents seeing the hickeys you gave me, or reading Romeo and Juliet willingly."
"Hickeys," Harry said simply, "your parents seeing the hickeys are obviously worse. Besides, I thought you liked reading Romeo and Juliet, what the hell?"
Louis did, and he typically wouldn't have if it weren't for reading it beside Harry with their heads leaned close as they read the words printed on the pages.
"I do like it, I'm just still mad at you," Louis said, his eyes flicking past Harry's head and waving back at his family who had begun to beckon the two over. "We should go."
"Don't be mad, Louis," Harry sighed with overdramatised dismay, so overdramatised it was clearly sarcastic. "I am oh so terribly sorry."
Louis made a face of mock bother and elbowed Harry in the side, tugging him along toward his parents. They walked close, verging dangerously close to the edge of being deemed not quite platonic. Louis likely would have worried that their public-aimed displays of affection could be perceived by anybody who cared to notice them, however, he embraced it. He embraced the possibilities and admiration and everything in between.
It was a hot day, much too hot to simply remain on the shore for the entire day. Louis kicked off his shoes, his toes digging into the scorching sand. He hissed, tip-toeing with haste to where the water had been dampened by the waves. He sighed with pleasure as the cool water lapped at his ankles, relieving him of the burning on the soles of his feet.
"Hey, Haz," Louis said, bending down and picking up a smooth round stone. "Check this out."
He flipped the pebble in his hands a few times before bringing the hand holding it to his side, practising the flick of his wrist before letting it go.
It bounced once, twice, three times. Four.
Louis grinned smugly, attempting to bury the surprise of how successful his throw was. "Try beat that."
"What's the point in trying to beat that?" Harry laughed through an exhale, his eyebrows raised with awe. "That was actually really impressive."
"It was impressive," a voice agreed from behind the two. They swivelled around and were met with Louis' father, his arms crossed over his chest with a smile raised with his lips. "He learned from only the best."
"Absolutely, I did." Louis laughed, reaching down and picking up another stone. "Who else would teach me?"
"Very true," Louis' father chuckled. "Are you boys going for a swim?"
Louis turned to Harry who didn't meet his eyes, his eyes plastered on the sand he was kicking. "I don't think we will. We have been at the beach nearly every day this week, I think we might need a break from the salt."
"Of course," Louis' father nodded, "You two have fun today, maybe you should go ride the Ferris wheel if you're not still scared, Louis."
Louis grinned with a shake of his head. "I'm not afraid of heights anymore."
"How wonderful to hear," Louis' father smiled, unaware of what had occurred following the conquest of his fear and who, in fact, had encouraged him to face it. "I'll see you boys later."
Louis waved as his father turned and left the two, returning to Louis' sisters who were waiting for him by the shore a few feet away. Louis turned back to Harry, his eyes dropping to the pebble that was still in Harry's hands.
"Your turn," Louis said. Harry furrowed his eyebrows and Louis gestured to the stone in his hands.
"Oh, right."
He flipped the stone over his fingers and turned to the waves, his eyes slimming as he waited for a space in time where the waves flattened. Then he flicked it. It bounced against the surface three times before dipping underwater.
"That was pretty good!" Louis praised, holding up his hand.
Harry shrugged, meeting Louis' hand for a high-five. "Not quite as impressive as yours though."
"Nope," Louis grinned smugly, Harry made a face of amusement. "But it was pretty good for your lack of experience."
Louis leaned down, picking up another stone and passing it to Harry. Harry shook his head. "No."
"No?"
"No." Harry repeated, "We're going on the Ferris wheel." Louis opened his mouth to protest. "You are not allowed to exchange the ride for an ice cream this time, we can get one afterwards."
Harry set off with the intention of Louis following close behind. Louis hesitated before huffing stubbornly and jogging up the sand to follow after Harry.
Louis came to Harry's side, and even in the heat of the day, he shivered. It had been years since he had returned to Brighton Beach, years since he had stepped on the stretch of promenade before the sand.
However, it was as though he was there only days ago, staring up at the Ferris wheel that illuminated a vibrant green from the light bulbs. Only days ago where he was granted an impossible opportunity that was equally snatched away and replaced with blood and tears.
It was not real. It was a nightmare. Louis had to stop reminding himself of it.
They walked along the pavement of the promenade, the concrete warm to near burn under their feet. A conversation developed, one that Louis wasn't entirely engaged in. His attention was pulled to the Ferris wheel that gained height as they approached it, towering over them with oppression and threat.
Louis paused under the wheel, Harry crashing into his back at the sudden cease of their stride.
"Whoa," Harry exclaimed, steadying himself by grabbing onto Louis' waist. "Are you alright?"
Louis forgot if he had responded, maybe he had, it did not really matter. What did matter was the tune that fell from the speakers, faint and weighty. A carnival tune that was clear and unblemished, unlike the crackles and lags of the run-down speakers from his nightmare.
Nonetheless, the melody turned Louis' muscles to lead. It felt as though he could turn around and Harry would not be behind him with reassuring hands on his waist but now by the railing before the sand, waiting, waiting for Louis' realization of his state of consciousness.
Then there would be the blood and twitching and stinging tears falling as if from a collapsed dam. And Louis would scream for help within the time-frozen beach that relayed him only silence.
"Louis?"
Louis blinked, swivelling around to face Harry, breathing with harsh heaves of his chest. Harry's eyes were glazed with concern, his mouth fallen into a straight line edging a worried frown.
Why did that nightmare stick with Louis so much? It wasn't as though Louis had never had a nightmare, of course, that was not the case. So why was it that it was that nightmare that sent him spiralling into triggers and chills?
"Hey," Harry said, Louis looked down bashfully, attempting to appear entirely invested in his shoes. "What's going on?"
"I don't know," Louis answered, his voice sounding a lot less steady than he had hoped. "I think I'm having second thoughts."
Not quite a lie.
Harry's eyebrows raised inwards. "Oh, how come?"
"You were right," Louis sighed, "our fears won't disappear because we took a single step towards them."
"Come on, you were right too," Harry said. "You told me to take it one step at a time. I have been doing that and my fear, though sure, it's not entirely gone, has weakened. This can be your second step."
Louis stared up at the Ferris wheel, "Maybe."
"It shouldn't be nearly as scary as the first step," Harry pointed out, "that step was much more risky. This step is sturdy and safe. It's is a closely observed ride, you're locked in. Promise."
"I was running on adrenaline that first step," Louis clarified, "I wasn't thinking and I hadn't had time to think of the risks and consequences."
"What are the risks and consequences of this Ferris wheel?" Harry questioned, gesturing up to the ride.
"Well, it could fall. I don't know."
"Louis, what are the chances of this Ferris wheel fucking falling?" Harry asked. "Low. If this falls, I assure you we are the unluckiest pair on Earth."
"I don't feel unlucky."
"Neither do I," Harry said. "How could I when I am with you? You're like my four-leaf clover."
"One spent hours searching for in the afternoon." Louis continued instinctively. Harry looked at him expectedly. "Fine, whatever, I'll do it. But you will be buying me an ice cream after."
Harry grinned down at Louis. "Of course, love."
Louis scrunched up his nose and glanced away before the usual flush of his cheeks rose visible. Harry snickered, took hold of Louis' wrist loosely, and tugged him along to the notably short queue for the ride.
The next car of the Ferris wheel rolled by, pausing for the previous passengers to hop out and Louis and Harry to duck in. The worker spat some rules for the ride that neither cared to listen to and he shut the door. Louis stared at the lock as the door collided with it, his eyes slimming with not-so-discreet nerves.
"Loosen up a bit," Harry chuckled, reaching out for Louis' hand. "It's fine, trust me."
And Louis found that he did.
The car jerked as the wheel returned to its spin, rising higher into the air. Louis' grasp around Harry's hand tightened, his knuckles strangling themselves white. He felt idiotic to be so terrified of such a tame ride, though when he slackened his grip, Harry kept his hold tight upon Louis' limped hand.
They rose, and Louis finally realized that the typical calm ride was in fact, calm. He turned away from Harry, who dropped his hand by the movement and inched toward the glass wall. He set his palm flat against the glass, peering out at the beach that slowly fell further and further away.
"Huh," Louis murmured, his eyes wide with the fascination of watching somewhere he had been so many times from such a vastly different perspective.
"It's not so bad is it?"
"Fuck! You can see the entire beach from up here," Louis laughed, tracing the line of the horizon with his fingertip. "I wonder if I can see my family down there."
It would be impossible to determine which of the tiny specks of people belonged to his parents, yet his eyes flicked over each of the dots and he wondered how it was that each of them were individual. Each had history hidden beneath their current normality, each had their own fears as demanding as love or as feeble as heights. Each was one of their own and Louis wondered what it must be like to be one of them.
However, he did not linger on that thought for much too long because he was quite satisfied with who he was himself.
And he was also quite satisfied with who he had beside him, who he could call his own. With their pinkies interlocked and a constant silent exchange of admiration like invisible waves swelling and purging.
Their car reached its peak height, swaying slightly above the stretched drop below them. Louis' eyes were firm out the window, wondering why he was ever so afraid of something so beautiful. It was a silly fear, he had always known that. It was silly to be afraid of something he really had no reason to dread.
Louis wished he had met Harry earlier, so he could help him face the fear sooner. But he was eternally grateful that he had ever met Harry because later was much preferable than never.
Louis turned to Harry, their eyes meeting and lighting a spark at the base of Louis' spine. "Beautiful." He murmured.
"It is."
"No, you." Louis corrected his voice barely a whisper. "I'm talking about you."
Harry appeared taken aback, the role of word causing shock typically belonged to Louis, however, Harry's eyes were wide with surprise. In the midst of rthe egister, Louis leaned forward and hauled Harry into an ardent kiss.
Louis would not dare to kiss anybody in such a public place. However, they were at such great height Louis felt as though he was too impossibly far away from everybody else and therefore, nobody could ever notice the collision of lips shared above. Harry's hand met the side of Louis' neck and the other tightened on the shorter hairs on the back of his head. And though Louis initiated the kiss, it did not take long for Harry to dominate it.
Harry pulled away first. He stared at Louis with a lovely emotion distinguishable in his eyes and smiled, reaching out and adjusting Louis' collar.
He inched forward, his mouth next to Louis' ear. "You're beautiful too, Louis."
Their car slowed to a stop at the bottom of the ride and the two ducked out, the car now vacant for the couple waiting next in line. Harry grasped onto Louis' hand and pulled him along to a small ice cream store down the promenade.
"One chocolate and one mint choc chip, please." He said, leaning against the glass display counter. "In a cone."
The cashier nodded and accepted the cash Harry handed over in exchange for the two ice cream cones. Harry passed the mint chocolate chip ice cream to Louis.
"Thanks," Louis grinned, licking the rim of the cone to catch the melted ice cream. "How'd you know I wanted mint choc chip?"
Harry shrugged. "That wouldn't be very boyfriend of me to have forgotten your favourite flavour, would it?"
Louis grinned. "Boyfriend, huh?"
"Yup."
Louis laughed. His eyes flicked around before quickly, very quickly, leaning up and planting a kiss on Harry's cheek.
"I like it," he whispered as he pulled away, "you should call yourself that more often."
The day was wasted and passed with precise haste. It had been well spent with a mess of shared ice cream, a combination of mint and chocolate on their tongues and sticky around their mouths. The sand managed to sneak everywhere and clung to their skin and hair like dust to furniture in an old home.
The hours passed with much of the Romeo and Juliet book read with constantly spoken annotation and analysis by Harry and sand castle building with Louis' sisters, resulting in fistfulls of sand being thrown and falling into their eyes.
After a day filled to the brim with a bubbly sort of happiness developed in Louis' stomach, the sun hung low in the sky and the day that Louis hoped would never end, finally did.
So, when Louis dreaded the goodbyes that were always due, he felt as though he was leaving for London for the first time once again. Countless embraces and bittersweet kisses were exchanged, attempting to drag out the goodbye and stay together for as long as they could.
It wasn't until the last of the goodbyes were articulated that Louis' father pulled him aside.
"Louis, as much as your mother and I are perfectly fine with paying for your rent at the moment, you need a job. You moved to London to test your confidence to live on your own, to do that, you need your own source of income."
Louis grimaced. "I've been looking."
He hadn't.
"Well, a new position has just opened at my company. You can work from home if that suits you better but it seems fit for you and your experience. Just fixing bugs on the website, and the pay is solid."
"Are you offering me a job?" Louis questioned, stepping back in shock. His father nodded with a soft smile. "Jesus Christ, my dad is offering me a job. How lame can I be?"
"Not lame at all," Louis' father grinned, patting him on the shoulder assuredly. "It's up to you if you want to take it but I'll need an acceptance or declination by the end of this week."
"Are you kidding? Obviously, I'm taking it!" Louis laughed. "When do I start?"
"First of August, I'll give you a run down on all the regulations and obligations as it gets closer to your first day," Louis' father said. "But by the end of this year, your mother and I will no longer be paying for your rent, we've already discussed this before you left. So now, you should be able to make enough money to thrive on your own."
"You're a legend, Dad," Louis grinned, throwing his arms around his father. "Thank you so much, oh my god."
When they departed from the embrace, Louis felt his mother's hand on his shoulder. Louis' father winked at Louis before turning away and walking towards Louis' sisters.
Louis turned to face his mother. "It was good to see you, Mum. I'll be back before you know it."
"You and Harry, Louis." Louis' mother started, ignoring Louis' attempt at a goodbye. Louis felt his stomach contort with realization. "There's much more than you let show, isn't there?"
Louis froze, glancing back at Harry who was laughing with his sisters. He groaned. "How on Earth do you notice these things?"
"Because I am a mother," Louis' mother chuckled, "and I can tell when my own son is in love."
"Oh, God."
"Harry's a good boy," Louis' mother praised, holding onto Louis' hand lightly. "You look so happy, Louis. Really. I was so worried about you during that first month in London, you were so lonely and I knew you couldn't rely on only phone calls to me every day. But you seem so happy these past two days, happier than I have seen you for years. It is clear that what you and Harry have is very special."
"He is special, Mum," Louis murmured, feeling the blood heat his cheeks to a bright scarlet. "I really like him."
"Oh, I can tell." His mother laughed, "He really likes you too, much more than I reckon you've noticed. He looks at you as though you are his first love."
Louis exhaled a laugh, glancing away for a split moment. "I never noticed that."
"Why didn't you tell me?" His mother nudged Louis' cheek, prompting him to look at her.
Louis shrugged. "I don't know. We haven't been together long, I'm still adjusting to it myself."
"You can tell me anything, Louis," Louis nodded. "Really, please don't ever think I would be upset or mad about your sexual orientation. I know that most parents would hope this type of thing passes over and their child will turn out how they expected them to. But I assure you, Louis, you are not falling short of any expectations we have ever had and I am so unbelievably proud of you, you love who you love, and we'll always respect that. You know that we love you, don't you?"
"I know," Louis whispered, his voice remaining at a low volume in fear of it trembling or cracking. "I love you."
Louis' mother smiled wistfully, "Well, I'd hate to keep you two waiting if you want to get back to London before it is too late. But remember that we aren't going anywhere and we are here if you ever need us."
Louis palmed his left eye, attempting a smile before his throat clogged with a lump initiated by his mother's words. He could feel a surge of an innominate emotion and tears well inside him and he was attempting everything to keep it buried beneath his skin.
He soon returned to Harry's side and waved silently passionate goodbyes through the rolled-up passenger window, watching as his family shrunk into nothing but a cluster of dots and only peeling his eyes away when they turned a corner and they were no longer visible.
The sun was on its way to set, it sat low on the horizon emitting the warm light of the late afternoon. The soft juddering of the car and the soft humming of Harry's voice along to a song Louis did not recognize on the radio drove him dangerously close to sleep. He rested his head against the glass of the window and inhaled vastly, exhaling himself into slumber.
━━━━━━━
Louis woke with an ache in his neck from the position he had fallen asleep in. He made a rough sound from the back of his throat and sat up, rubbing his neck and blinking groggily.
It was night. They were driving on the highway, the radio was now shut off and the moon was full in the sky. As a child, Louis believed that the moon would follow him everywhere. When he was driving on the highway late at night with the rhythmic bumping and hum of the car playing to his exhaustion, he would stare up at the moon.
It was round and beautiful and shone with a hypnotizing atmosphere. And it would follow Louis. It would follow him as the car drove away from the esoteric silver sphere that dominated the dark sky and no matter how far they drove, it was something they could never quite outrun. And though it scared Louis sometimes, how he was always a mouse to the cat of the moon, a part of him liked feeling as though he were the centre of everything.
"Hello sleepyhead," Louis turned to the voice. Harry glanced over, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "How're you feeling?"
Louis rubbed at his eyes. "How far are we from home?"
"About ten minutes," Harry said, "would you like me to drop you off at your apartment, or—"
"Yours," Louis mumbled, sitting up straighter in the passenger seat in hopes to more so wake himself. "Can I stay at yours?"
"Uh, no."
Louis sat up straight in his seat, gawking at Harry in pure disbelief."What?"
"I'm fucking with you, Lou," Harry cackled, Louis sneered and relaxed back against the car seat. "Obviously, you can stay over."
"You're a real twat."
Harry grinned and reached out, taking hold of Louis' hand. He rubbed his thumb over Louis' knuckles, bringing their interlocked hands to his mouth and kissing the loose skin between Louis' thumb and pointer finger.
"My mum knows," Louis said, Harry's eyebrows pulled together. "About us, I mean. I didn't tell her, she just kind of knew."
"Yeah, mothers are like that," Harry snickered, "I guess we weren't as discreet as we thought we were."
"Fuck, I hope she didn't notice the hickeys." Louis gasped, pulling down the sun visor and inspecting the marks that were still hidden beneath the collar of his t-shirt.
"I doubt she did," Harry assured, his eyes flicking over momentarily to take a glimpse of Louis fixing up the collar of his shirt. "I was making sure they were hidden all day."
Louis sighed and fell back against his chair, throwing the sun visor back up with a thud. He rolled his head over to stare out the window, his eyelids heavy despite just having had an hour's sleep. He adjusted his posture as Harry pulled off the main road, turning down into a gas station.
"I just need to refill the tank," he muttered, gesturing to the blinking red icon displaying a low level of petrol. "You can stay here, I won't be long."
Louis nodded, too tired to respond and Harry slipped out, shutting the car door behind him. Louis stared up at the roof of the car, squeezing his eyes shut and reopening them in a series of aggressive blinks to keep himself awake. In doing so, it took Louis much too long to realize Harry had started a conversation with a man outside.
"Enough, Simon," Louis heard upon opening the door and stepping out to Harry's side.
Harry's hand was tight around the gas pump, his knuckles pale and his demeanour heavy with an emotion that was combined with so many it was nearly indistinguishable. However, Louis could make out fury and distress supporting his posture.
"Who's this one?" Louis reacted to the clear reference to himself, turning to face the voice. It belonged to a shorter man, he wasn't old but surely getting there with greying strands of hair that hung short over his forehead. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his lips curled into a smug smirk.
Louis felt as though he recognized him from somewhere. He couldn't possibly have ever known him well, but it seemed as though they had once crossed paths, and by the way, the man looked back at him with slimmed eyes, it seemed as though he felt the same.
"Simon," Harry admonished.
Louis tilted his head upon the name, still attempting to decipher whether or not he recognised it. He ultimately decided he wasn't familiar with the name, but the face was still recognisable. Simon's eyes slimmed at Louis condescendingly and Louis realised he had been staring.
"What's your name?" Simon asked, nodding over at Louis. He scoffed when neither Harry nor Louis answered him he scoffed. "Well, go on."
Louis shifted his weight from foot to foot with discomfort. "Louis."
"Harry drove you here?" Simon questioned. Louis noted the way Harry tensed, nudging Louis in the calf with his foot. Louis swallowed hard before nodding. "Goodness, Louis. I do not know how you could trust this man behind the wheel."
Harry's posture tensed negligibly, hardly noticeable. Though, Louis noticed and it worried and confused him dreadfully.
"Come on, Simon." Harry sighed. "I'm a good driver, I've never got a ticket."
"You know that's not what I am getting at."
Louis' breath came quickly. He immediately did not like this 'Simon' guy so much. Simon provoked stress upon Harry, he could feel it through every slight brush of skin that was exchanged as they stood in front of the man. The night pressed all around, suffocating and thick.
"We're going," Harry scowled, pulling the pump from the neck of the gas tank roughly. His hand met Louis' wrist, his grip tight and nearly bruising. "Let's go, Louis."
"Oh, run off, Harry." Simon scoffed, his tone derisive and jeering. "Let's fucking hope Niall will be there to help you if you end up like last time!"
Harry's jaw clenched, shaking his head with ignorance at Simon's last words. He pulled out of the park and kept his stare firm on the road ahead, refusing to dare take a glance at Simon as he sped by, his foot pressed down hard on the gas.
"What on Earth was that all about?" Louis asked, turning in his seat to gaze back at the gas station. "You forgot to pay, Harry."
"I know, Louis. I know." Harry groaned. "God, I despise that man."
"Who was he?" Louis asked, and when Harry did not respond he fell back on the phrase he always relied on. "Bound truth, who was he?"
The hum of the car pressed against their ears. Louis could nearly hear the considerations of thought-through answers Harry was conjuring in his head. Louis began to worry Harry would simply refuse to answer him at all after a while.
"Simon," Harry said finally. "He's an old friend of Niall and I. When we first moved here, he kind of helped us settle in, and helped us get accustomed to London when we had barely a pound. He was a pretty cool guy, in the beginning at least."
"What happened?"
Harry's eyes flickered shut. "A lot of shit and he turned out to be a terrible guy." He said. "He nearly got Niall and I in a shit ton of trouble and I now worry he hasn't quite lifted the grudge. He's also the reason I am so shifty about Zayn, it feels too similar."
Louis shifted in his chair. "How so?"
"Niall got attached and grew blind to Simon's manipulation," Harry said, not quite answering Louis' question. "And the two have similar ties to, things."
"Things?"
"Yeah," Harry rubbed the back of his neck with visible discomfort. "Simon's a total douchebag and I didn't expect to see him tonight, I forgot he hung out around here. God, I think the last time I saw him was the morning before."
The latter sentence was uttered as an exhale, low and though Louis could easily hear his voice, it was not articulated for him. Therefore, he did not ask any further, and it was not as if he had any energy to do so. The conversation died and the amiable silence was filled with the hum of the car engine.
Louis managed to keep himself awake as the silence threatened his energy. He felt as though he could almost hear the thoughts rush through Harry's head. However, such thoughts were indistinguishable as though they were spoken behind a closed door, faint and unintelligible. Thoughts Louis wished he could understand.
Oh, he really did wish.
Harry pulled the car into park and he sat in his car seat for a short while, though long enough for Louis to begin to wonder whether he was planning to get out. He opened his mouth to speak but was taken aback as Harry leaned over - with such haste that Louis nearly darted out of the way - and cupped his face, kissing him against his half-parted lips.
The kiss was long; deliberate but clumsy. Louis' fingers closed around Harry's arm, his chin lifting to deepen the kiss. Harry had his body lifted precariously over the center console and a hand pressed lightly against Louis' thighs.
Louis sighed with pleasure, threading his fingers through Harry's hair and pulling him downward, crushing their lips together and evoking a startled yet engaged moan from Harry's throat.
Harry broke away, his hands found the side of Louis' seat and pushed himself up. His hair was dishevelled and his cheeks were flushed a bright scarlet. Even in the dim light of the car, Louis could see a pink marking of crushed-together lips around his mouth.
"What was that for?" Louis asked, blinking himself from his flustered state.
"You're pretty when you are tired," Harry said, fixing his hair in the sun visor mirror. "It was such a struggle to focus while driving when you look like that. I'm sure I could have concentrated on the road better if I were intoxicated."
"You're ridiculous," Louis laughed, watching him try with not much success to fix his scuffed hair. "I am not that much of a distraction."
Now Harry laughed. "Oh, come on Louis."
Harry flipped the sun visor back up and slipped out of the car, shutting the car door behind him. Louis ran a slightly weakened hand through his hair and started after Harry. Once caught up, he wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders, his head falling against the crook of his neck.
Harry fumbled with the keys and unlocked the front door. He startled and sucked air through his teeth, shoving Louis off his shoulder upon the sound of voices inside.
Zayn and Niall were home already. They sat on the sofa, eyeing Louis and Harry upon their entrance. A confusing expression toyed with their features, an expression Louis couldn't quite name.
"You're back late," Niall said after a while. "What took you so long?"
"Traffic," Harry answered. "I saw Simon today."
Niall stood up. "Simon was in Brighton?" There was a slight fret in his voice. Zayn appeared just as lost as Louis did, yet unlike Zayn, Louis did know just some of the mentioned man in courtesy of his used bound truth.
"No," Harry stated. "I ran into him half an hour ago while I was refilling the gas."
"You spoke to him?" Niall was slow to Harry's words. "You said you only saw him."
"Same thing."
Niall stood up. "What happened? Are you alright?"
"Who's Simon?" Zayn asked, standing up beside Niall.
There was silence for an agonizingly long second. The typically exchanged glance between Harry and Niall played and Louis' eyes slimmed upon catching the silent interaction.
"An old friend," Niall responded. He was suddenly cautious with his words, not quite as demanding as he had been previously.
Another stretch of silence.
"I ought to be getting home," Zayn said finally, he turned to Louis. "Louis, thanks for letting us come to the beach trip, it was fun."
"Oh. Yeah, of course." Louis smiled. "It was nice to have finally met you."
"Niall, walk me out?" Zayn requested. Niall faltered before nodding, swiping the keys off the coffee table, and following after Zayn.
Louis watched as the door slammed shut behind them, a muffled conversation that had immediately grown softer seeping through the thin walls. He buried any confusion and speculation towards the aforementioned 'Simon' and took off for Harry's bedroom. He threw himself onto Harry's mattress and the sensation of sinking into the bedcovers reminded him of his exhaustion.
"Oh, Dusty's here," Harry pointed out.
He nodded his head to the small cat perched on his desk. She was not looking at the two, her gaze directed toward the opposite corner of Harry's bedroom.
"Where's she looking?" Louis yawned through a laugh. "She's staring into space."
"Maybe she's looking at a ghost." Harry chuckled. "I have been told that cats can see ghosts. It sounds like total bollocks but I think it's kinda interesting."
"Does that mean your apartment is haunted then?"
Harry shrugged. "Everywhere I have ever been has been haunted. I wouldn't be surprised."
"You are not cursed are you?" Louis joked; mostly.
"I wouldn't say that," Harry said. "At least not after now, because there is no chance I could be cursed and still have you, you are my four-leaf clover."
"Mm, romantic."
He had been edging sleep as Harry had spoken the final sentence, the words never quite registering in Louis' mind. Though, that did not mean they didn't remain in the back of his mind. They stayed with him like a drunken tattoo, something he couldn't quite remember hearing, but always staying.