Things Have Gotten Closer To The Sun -starseas on ao3

Sixteen

The sky darkens from pale blue into black, and Harry wants to sleep, but he doesn't. He wants to sleep, but he can't, because moonlight is washing in through the bedroom window and making shapes on the ceiling, and he can't stop watching them, can't stop thinking that they seem bright blue.

Shifting in bed, Harry sighs.

Maybe what he needs is some fresh air.
Some time to think, or to wander, or to breathe. He should go outside, see if the cold air can help put him to sleep.

"Okay," he says to himself, and his voice seems loud against the silence of the room. Kicking his way out of the sheets, Harry steps out of bed and winces at the cold shock of the wood against his bare feet.

Stumbling around in the dark, he manages to pull on a pair of jogging pants over his boxers and find a pair of knitted socks, the air cool on his back as he pulls a jumper on over his white t-shirt.
He's quite as he moves down the stairs.

The entire house swims in shadows and everything is muted out, all blue and white, echoes of any real colours. At the front door, Harry shrugs into his jacket and steps into his boots before quietly making his way to the kitchen. Once he's in the kitchen, he makes his way to the door, sliding open the glass and stepping outside.

The air is cold, but nice, like pool water at the end of the summer.

Shutting the door behind him, Harry walks out to the edge of the balcony, boots crunching over the snow and ice. Breathing in, Harry leans against the rail, letting the cold seep into his jacket sleeves.

The sky is a well of ink, spilling out over everything.

Once again, it is completely empty of stars, but in the distance Harry can see the frozen pond and the pine trees, so he keeps his eyes on that, and in the quiet, time stretches on.

He feels Louis before he sees him.

Glancing back, he sees that Louis's standing beside the snow-covered patio set, his hair tousled with sleep, bundled up in his gloves and his red jacket. His presence makes Harry feel more awake somehow, so Harry smiles, sleepy. "Hey."

"Hello." Louis grins, walking up to stand beside Harry. He leans down and rests his arms over the frosted rail of the balcony, but he keeps his eyes on Harry, heavy and blue. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Couldn't sleep." Harry agrees.

Louis watches him, frowning. "Did you have a bad dream?"

"No." Harry says, trying not to think too hard about the times back when Louis would help him with his bad dreams. The times when Louis would climb into his bed and kiss them away. "No, I don't know. You ever have those nights when your thoughts are just too much?"

Louis nods, but he says nothing, and then Harry's watching as he looks away, blue eyes settling on the distant moon.

Harry's half-asleep and wide awake and the same time, energy and tiredness buzzing through him like lightning, and he can't even stop himself from just watching.

Watching Louis and the bend of his back, the small slope of everything that he is. In the dimness, the red of his jacket shines bright, and there's that searchlight again, making him glow.

It lights him up, and Harry's so in love with him that it hurts.

"Have you been seeing anyone?" He asks, out of nowhere.

He doesn't know why he says it, he really doesn't, there's just something about the half-asleep state of the world that pulls it from his mouth.

Louis turns towards him, eyes wide. "What?"