chance connection |2| [zarry]

twohundredtwentyone

"You're really ok with this?" Harry asks, again, watching Freddie slurp his cereal.

"Said I did, didn't I?" Louis shrugs, sipping his tea.

"Zain said he might not come up tonight if his meeting runs late," Harry reminds Louis again, like they haven't spoken about this at length yesterday.

"I know," Louis rolls his eyes. "He'll be fine. And anyway, chill trail run, don't you think? You've never really been alone with him over night."

"You really think he'll be fine?" Harry asks, biting his lower lip. Zain had been uselessly unbothered. It was nice to know Zain considered it a non-issue, but still. What if it was a problem?

"Sure," Louis says with a shrug not dissimilar to Zain's. "Just let him sleep in your bed and he won't even blink."

"Mummy, football!" Freddie interrupts, pushing his bowl away.

"Put it in the dishwasher," Harry says, shooting Louis another look.

Louis rolls his eyes at him. "You've got the mummyimg down, why are you so worried?" he asks. For all that Louis was brash and a bit stand-offing, he could be surprisingly attune to emotions.

"Just don't want him to be upset," Harry shrugs. Maybe it also was a it because he didn't want to be reminded that he loved Freddie with all his heart but that he hadn't been there his whole life.

"He'll be fine," Louis repeats, catching Freddie around the waist and lifting him up a bit to smack his cheek with a kiss. "Let's get ready, monster, while Harry cleans up, huh?"

Harry rolls his eyes but lets them go without protest. Louis would be missing Freddie terribly, he knows, so he could let them have a bit of time to themselves at least. He cleans up quickly, which isn't actually that much because both Louis and Freddie — if reminded — were good about putting their used bowls and cutlery in the dishwasher, and makes his way up the stairs to get ready for football himself.

Zain's still under the shower so Harry just pokes his head in the bathroom.

"We're leaving, good luck, yea?" he calls.

"Thanks, babe!" Zain calls back. "Drive safe! I'll call once I'm done! Text when you get there!"

"I will," Harry answers, a bit anxious to leave Zain as well. He's not been away from Zain for a night for ages now. Maybe he had been less worried for Freddie and more for himself.

He dresses quickly and grabs his bag — one he's found at the bottom of his closet and always dismissed at the wrong size, except it was perfect for a bottle of water and a snack plus his phone and wallet. He grabs a cardigan and hurries downstairs, a bit pressed for time like every week, no matter how early they started getting ready.

"You know what'd be easier?" Louis asks, looking up from watching Freddie tie his shoes and eyeing Harry up and down.

"What?" Harry asks wearily, checking his bag to see if he actually packed the snacks he wants.

"If you tattooed "I'm the mum" on your forehead. Then you wouldn't have to go through the effort of dressing in the most mumsy way to have ever mum-ed," Louis says drily, pulling on his own jacket.

"Don't be a dick," Harry says, rolling his eyes. His bag might be more of a purse, but he wasn't that bad. And anyways. "It's comfortable," he says, pulling on his sneakers.

"Sure," Louis says, rolling his eyes. He stops making fun though, leaning down to ruffle Freddie's hair and kiss him a couple of times.

Harry grabs his keys and a light jacket as well. It was still chilly in the mornings but usually it was alright by the time football was done.