Lets Cross The Lines We Lost {L.S} (Not My Work)

Chapter 13

**

There's a rainstorm at four in the morning, Louis knows because he hasn't been able to get an inch of sleep and the only thing worth doing is staring out the window and watching the sky change. It's just a thing that happens when he tries to deal with big life decisions, and it's definitely not the first time. 

When Louis moved to London with Zayn, the first few weeks were the hardest. Back home in Doncaster, Lottie was beginning high school and the twins were growing out of their bunk beds and it was winter, Louis' favourite time of the year. And yet, he had never felt more lonely, even when Zayn was with him.  

Zayn's dorm was tiny. Barely enough room for two people, and Louis was certain he wasn't actually allowed to stay there, somewhere in the little university accommodation pamphlet discarded under Zayn's bed there was something about zero expectations to letting sad, unemployed friends sleep in your room. Zayn said it didn't matter, and Louis didn't mind the uncomfortable nights crashing on the couch with creaking springs and torn fabric and questionable stains. He didn't mind having to retreat outside whenever Zayn used spray paint, filling the air with fumes, because sometimes that was better. Louis could find himself somewhere, with someone, and he'd help himself forget that night and everything and everyone before it. It was just how he operated. It didn't make him happy, but it didn't hurt him like the rest of it did. And that was enough, it seemed like it was all he deserved at the time anyway.  

So it's been hours of lying awake watching as the room lightens from a muted gray to gold from the first glimpse of a sunrise while the rain starts to die off. Harry is slumped against his skin, breathing softly, and Louis feels like he wouldn't be able to fall asleep even if he tried. He's just been staring at the windowsill while the world changes colour, balancing on a precarious line between having a meltdown and feeling like everything has finally aligned.  

"Haz," Louis half-whispers. "Harry, hey. You awake?" 

Harry shifts and stirs, eyes blinking gently, inhaling softly. "Am now," he murmurs. "What's the matter?" 

Louis searches his brain, unsure of a reason for waking Harry up besides just wanting to talk to him. "I'm sorry for fighting with you," is what he ends up saying. 

Harry smiles and presses a kiss to Louis' shoulder. "Every couple fights. Even Zayn and Niall, believe it or not, will hate each other at more than one point in their relationship." 

"Yeah well I think we've had far more than our fair share of stupid fights since we've known each other." 

Harry waves a dismissive hand. "Irrelevant." 

Louis chuckles and shifts his position to get more comfortable, tucking his leg further in between Harry's and pulling the blanket up over their shoulders. 

The corner of Harry's mouth tugs upwards as he watches him. "You're adorable." 

Louis stares at him. "Adorable? Please, I could destroy you." 

Harry smiles, a note of suggestion in his voice. "Oh, I know you can." 

"You're honestly terrible, I hate you." 

Harry smiles fondly and kisses Louis' forehead. "Still adorable though." 

Louis breathes heavily. God, this boy. 

Harry lets out a peaceful sigh and sleepily rests his head back down on Louis' chest, closing his eyes again. Louis reaches down and tangles his hand in Harry's hair, scratching lazily against his scalp. Harry smiles, leaning into the touch.  

It must be nice, Louis thinks, to be able to just exist happily with someone and not worry about screwing it up or someone hurting you just because they can. It must be nice not to have that fear looming over you every second.