next to you ❀ l.s.

fifteen - the morning after

When Louis woke up, the space beside him was empty, the sheets still warm and wrinkled where Harry had slept. He panicked, groping about the vacant spot on the bed as if the curly-haired boy might appear out of thin air. Still rubbing his eyes to clear his blurred vision, he let out a loud, held-out groan, flopping back onto the mattress.

Of course Harry had left.

"Lou?"

A familiar silhouette appeared in the doorway, backlit by the cheap fluorescent lights from the bathroom. The boy lingered just outside of the room for a moment, pawing at his eyes sleepily, his unruly curls sticking out in every which way.

Oh. Of course Harry hadn't left.

The corners of Louis's mouth turned up into a lazy smile, relief washing over him. He rolled over in bed, lifting the covers to make an easy entry point, an empty space just begging to be filled. "Come here, love," he said, his voice still rough and raspy with sleep.

Harry padded across the room silently, obediently sliding into bed beside Louis. He immediately curled his body into the older boy's, wrapping his arms around Louis's stomach.

"You're up early," the older boy commented, exhaling contentedly now that he had Harry tucked safely under his arm. They had been much more touchy with each other since the kiss, but this morning felt like a whole new level of comfortable closeness. "Did you sleep okay?"

Harry nodded, letting his eyes fall closed as he rested his head on Louis's chest. "Did you?"

Louis just hummed in agreement, sending vibrations through Harry's cheek. He didn't respond for a moment, torn between giving Harry one of his signature cheesy comments and bringing up the concerning incident from the night before.

He didn't even have to ask. "I feel better," Harry assured him. He shifted slightly, tucking his face into the space between Louis's neck and his shoulder, then exhaled deeply. The air in the room suddenly felt a bit thicker, weighing down on them like a heavy blanket -- although it seemed more suffocating than comforting. "I'm really sorry about last night."

"Don't apologize," Louis repeated, for what felt like the hundredth time.

"Have you talked to Liam or Niall yet?" Harry wondered. He picked absentmindedly at the worn fabric of Louis's t-shirt, pinching and releasing it between his index finger and thumb over and over and over again.

Louis could easily tell that Harry was worried about what their friends thought of him. Last night, he had been too hysterical and overwhelmed to really think about it, but now, Louis could practically see him recounting every single moment on a loop in his mind. Knowing Harry, he was probably silently beating himself up -- as if anything that happened last night was his fault.

Louis's heart ached. But he pushed the feeling aside.

"Christ, Harry, I've only just woken up," he laughed (a throaty rumble that sent a shiver down Harry's spine for reasons he couldn't explain), effectively lightening the mood. "Give me another minute, will you? Then I'll give Liam a call and see where they're planning to study today."

He felt Harry grin, the cold tip of the younger boy's nose brushing lightly against his neck, and his fluttering heart settled. He couldn't explain why.

There was an inexplicable sort of peace shielding them from the rest of the world. The morning light was starting to flood in through the window where neither of them had pulled the blinds. Harry's body was warm and soft against Louis's. They were wrapped up in their blankets and wrapped up in each other. Every moment passed too quickly, yet still slow enough that Louis could pick up even the slightest shifts in Harry's body. Every time he breathed, he felt Harry move with him, following the rises and falls of Louis's chest like a ship follows a compass.