Keep your memories warm with me

One shot~ keep you memories safe with me

R u going to Liam 's?

It's 2 a.m. and Harry doesn't really expect a response, but he's not surprised when he gets one anyway.

Thinkin bout it .. R u ?

Five words. That's five times as many words as Louis's said to him for the past two weeks. Harry props himself up on his elbows and rests his phone on the pillow, squinting against the brightness of the screen.

There's no way to say this next part tactfully.

Was going to but idk. Will it be awkward?

The only thing more dangerous than alcohol is the unsentimental honesty that flows through one's veins in the middle of the night. If it were daytime Harry might be able to frame his words more carefully, gauge what he needs from Louis without baring his entire soul, but his eyelids are heavy and the space where another head should rest on the pillow beside him is oddly, disconcertingly empty.

Its only 1 nite. Itll be fine.

Harry blinks at the message, not sure if Louis is lying to himself or to him, but the phone buzzes again before he can reply.

you should come.

You should come. You should come, even though everything has gone to shit. You should come, and sit across the table from me at Christmas, and share a drink with me like the past four months didn't happen.

Harry throws his phone across the room, as far away from himself as possible, and pulls his blankets over his head, hoping morning will bring some clarity.

---

It doesn't, though.

In the first precious moments upon waking up, everything is normal. Harry rubs sleepily at his eyes and shies a little from the sunlight streaming in through the gap in the blinds. He reaches out carelessly to run a hand through Louis's hair, about to make some comment about finally fixing those curtains, and -

And nothing. His hand meets cold, stark sheets and his eyes snap wide open.

It's been three weeks since they broke up and Harry wonders how long it will be before he can wake up and not expect to find Louis next to him. How long until this becomes his normal? How long until he looks at the pillow beside his own and doesn't expect to find a dent there from being slept on, or a head resting there, eyelashes fluttering softly against sharp cheekbones as Louis begins to wake?

A buzzing from the corner of the room draws Harry's attention and he tumbles out of bed, groping around the pile of discarded clothes there until his hand lands on his phone. "Hello?"

"Hey! Sorry it's early, we just landed," Liam's voice, unusually bright even for him, thunders down the end of the line. In the background, Harry can vaguely discern Zayn making a sleepy, displeased noise. "Merry Christmas!"

Harry blinks and rubs his face with his free hand. "It's only the 23rd," he replies groggily, clearing the sleep from his throat. "Bit keen, aren't you?"

Liam laughs. "Keen to get it over with, more like," he replies more seriously. He and Zayn have agreed to spend the holidays with Liam's extended family, and Harry feels a faint stab of amusement mixed in with genuine pity. "Now, what time are you guys comin' over tonight?"

About to rise from the floor, Harry freezes, a painful breath caught in his throat. You guys. Does that mean -

On the other end of the line Liam continues to chatter, cheerfully oblivious. "Because Zayn reckons - and he's completely right, okay - that if you're going to pull the 'fashionably late' card again and leave us alone to stall your families, you're both uninvited."