California Sold

Epilogue

AO3 AUTHOR'S NOTE: Epilogue <3

~

There are pros and cons of having Harry home.

Cons. Louis doesn't get nearly enough work done. His classes are planned at latest possible moment, he doesn't get much fresh air, he can't be barefoot if he is going to have his feet on the kitchen worktop, and the fridge runs out of milk far too soon.

Pros. He is home. He is clingy, steals his food at dinner, listens to strange music, cleans the kitchen worktop twice after Louis has sneakily had his feet there, smells like apples, sings so it echoes through the house, and he is home.

Winter has come and gone, and spring is nearing. Early March is still cold, but the sun is starting to peek out more and more. They have been together for almost seven months, and it's been both easy and hard.

The first weeks apart when Louis was in Manchester and Harry had to do promotion work for his album were rather miserable. At first Louis could indulge in spending time with his family and the friends he hadn't seen in months, but missing Harry quickly turned difficult. There were too many abroad phone calls to pay for, hours of FaceTiming that didn't quite feel enough, and the yearning to be near one another was trying. New couples are supposed to get the time for the honeymoon phase, but they never really got longer than a week.

Louis moved into Harry's London house at the end of October, a little more than a month after they decided that was the way to go. At the start it was hard to treat the place as his own, and it took him almost a month before he had guests over when Harry wasn't there. It does feel like home these days, even though the house can feel empty being there alone for sometimes weeks at a time.

Finding work was not as easy as he had hoped, either. He had a substitute position at a local school for a couple of weeks in November, but afterward the drought of work got rougher, leaving him unable to join Harry for award season in America as he was doing interviews almost on top of one another. However, either the jobs he was offered were temporary, or the available ones were too far away or were not in his subjects. He finally got a permanent position at a public school forty minutes from their house, a place he had been interviewed at once before. He started by spring term, it's been working out so far so good.

During break in February Harry flew him out to Jamaica, where an industry friend of his had lent him his holiday house. For a sixth-month anniversary it was not too shabby. Louis had to be home for school again after just a week, coming home tan and relaxed, but luckily Harry is still home with him for a while more before duty calls in America. The upcoming tour for their album is starting in July, and there are still decisions yet to be made, including rehearsals that won't begin until another couple months.

Louis is scrolling through his photo album on his phone, choosing which one from their holiday to post. He knows colleagues, parents and teenagers from his school might have a look at his social media, which is why his Facebook and Twitter are now private, but he keeps his Instagram opened because Harry's social media manager insisted on it, seeing as it's a perfect marketing tool. It's now cleaned from any disputable photos it once held.

Of course there are fans of Harry's at the school. The adults are professional enough not to ask more about his private life than they would any other colleague, but the kids are a bit more difficult. He knows there are some students tweeting about him after classes, if he yelled at them or said something about his weekend or whatever random anecdote, but it has been surprisingly okay. Most of them have grown out of the initial curiosity he garnered the first few weeks.

He picks a colourful picture of Harry, adjusting the filter only slightly. He knows he will be teased about the caption by the three girls in one of his English classes, no doubt. He has been asked about the music video for Harry's song at least fifty-two times, and he has tried not to get flustered at their not exactly respectable inquires.