Ever since the snow //L.S//

Chapter five

With a steaming cup of tea in hand, Harry is standing before the closed bedroom door, he can hear Louis' muffled voice. Even though he can't make out the words, he understands Louis' tone of speach, even through a wooden door it's clear how the conversation is fragile and sensitive.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all... 

Harry wanted to bring Louis something to drink, since it's still freezing in the bedroom and he has been in there for the past hour, having difficult conversation with estranged sisters. Harry can be a dreamer, diving in head first, it's just the way his passionate heart is built. But all he wants, is to be supportive of Louis and what he is going through, but maybe it's too delicate and private, and above all; too soon.

Louis had looked so broken; hurt and small, when he told Harry about his mother's passing and how he felt he had let down his sisters. The guilt was - and still is - eating him alive, and Harry just wants to see Louis smile again, his dim eyes bright; all that is broken, fixed.

But those things take time and effort, try and error, Harry knows this all too well; he knows he shouldn't rush in; if only he knew how to bend space and time.
For Louis.

Even though Louis is right on the other side of the door, Harry misses him a little. But he reprimands himself; Louis has things to figure out on his own, he needs space and time, he shouldn't get in the way of all this. He is about to turn around and walk away when Louis opens the door, a warm blanket wrapped around his rounded shoulders,  speaking in a soft slightly hoarse voice.

'Hey...' Louis smiles shyly, he looks down at his feet. 'Thought I heard you there.'

'Um... Yeah...Well, I... I...' Harry stutters, 'I wasn't eavesdropping, I wasn't... Really... I...' Handing Louis the cup of tea. 'I just wanted to uh... Bring you this.'

Louis looks at him with a red face and puffy tired eyes - has he been crying? Is he okay? Harry has so many questions – and takes the steaming cup. Louis blushes a little and lowers his eyes again.

'Thanks... H. That's, really nice...'
Then he turns around, closes the door behind him and continues his conversation on the phone.

What to do with himself, now that he has time to kill, Harry wonders. He sits down in his chair and looks around the living room; he should really tidy up a bit, it's quite the mess. But how could it not be? Two people, two dogs; the small cabin has gotten crowded, but Harry loves every single minute of it.

'Okay, I might as well,' he murmurs as he gets up again and starts clearing the coffee table.

When done doing the dishes, and with Max and Cliff in his wake, he collects all the pieces of clothing lying around, including some of Louis'.

'You guys, quit following me 'round, will ya?' He tells the dogs as he grabs one of Louis' jumpers of the backrest of the couch.

Harry bends down before the washing machine and before putting it in he buries his face into the red and white fabric of Louis' jumper. He inhales sharply; the smell of Louis triggers his brain, and his body immediately responds. A bit embarrassed with himself he throws the jumper in and as he wants to shut the door of the washing machine two noses are in the way. Harry almost trips over the nosy dogs.

'Max, Cliff, you guys, I can't, if you keep getting in my way.' 

Back in the living room Harry rearranges the furniture a bit, which isn't really working with their bed still in the middle of the room, right before the wood stove, but it looks slightly better. 
Then he cleans out the bathroom; the tub, the toilet, the shelves, the sink, and the floor.