Apocalypse | L.S [Completed]

XXXI

"I'm in love with you, Harry Styles," Louis finally says, it's out in the open, his voice shivering with the fear of rejection but feeling's stern. Louis feels naked in front of Harry's tear glistened emeralds, feels as if his heart has been striped stark and that any moment someone will start laughing at his boldness. He feels like the statues are judging him with their dead eyes, whispering to each other about how foolish he is to voice his heart's yearn. But when he feels a soft, tender pair of pillowy lips on his, everything blurs but Harry.

Their lips dance together like the clouds above, the willows never pausing their song and the moon never dulling its ethereal shine. It fits like a puzzle, their lips, their warmth chasing away the winter's harshness and Louis thinks if he opens his eyes now, he will definitely see steam releasing from their mouths' union. His hand finds home in Harry's silky, soft curls, fingers slightly tugging it and angling his head better for Louis to plunge his voracious tongue into Harry's velvety mouth. He devours him like a hungered wolf, their tongues battling in urgency and passion. Time has always stopped working when green met blue but the decreasing air supply forces the pair apart with heavy pants, tinted cheeks and glistening lips swollen.

"I-I-" Harry says in between breaths, chest erratically moving. He looks like a dragon with the amount of steam forming in front of him, his curls disheveled and green eyes a shade darker. "Take your time, love, and you don't have to say it back if you don't feel the same. I had to let you know because I couldn't live another minute without loving you the way you deserve to be loved openly," Louis says sincerely. Harry not feeling the same about him would break him, crumble him into dust but forcing him to feel a certain way would kill him. As much as he wants to hear Harry say it back, he is happy to wait a lifetime to genuinely hear it.

"Dork," Harry laughs with an adorable shake of his head, curls bouncing gloriously, and he presses their lips together once again. This time it's slow, tender and love-filled. This time there is no tongue, no rush, just two pairs of lips greeting each other affectionately, slowly declaring their love for one another. It's short and sweet, just enough to shut down the raising fear of rejection within Louis. Once they break it off, bodies pressed together and breaths mixing in adore, Harry finally meets Louis' scared sapphires and he smiles, smiles so beautifully that the moon hides away behind a cloud.

Harry just stares at Louis, no care about the ongoing world outside their park and the passing time. Louis feels a gentle, shaking hand cup his cheek, thumb slowly wiping a threatening tear from the corner of his eye. He watches as Harry leans in, not for a kiss this time though. He watches as Harry's cheek rests against his, hot, trembling breath on his ear sending a wave of arousal and anticipation throughout his love-stricken self. For a moment it's completely silent, all Louis feels is Harry's soft cheek against his lightly stubbled and his warm breathing on his ear. It feels like a never ending minute before Harry whispers into Louis awaiting ear, too afraid the statues might hear what he has to say "Your secret is safe with me, Louis Tomlinson, because I'm in love with you too, with all your flaws and perfection, I'm completely in love with you."

Louis is dreaming, he has to. This is a sweet, sweet dream and Louis is too scared to pinch himself because he doesn't want to wake up, ever. "Y-you love me?" Louis asks feeling small and insecure. "No I love Daniel," Harry says with a roll of his eyes and a light slap on Louis' sweater-protected arm "of course I'm in love with you, Boo, why would I say all those things otherwise. You are quite thickheaded for someone holding power as much as you do. I bet it's the cigarettes, I've told yo-" "Kiss me you fool." Louis ends his ramble with the merger of their sinful mouths, Harry's words dying into the kiss until they turn into aroused whimpers. They kiss like there is no tomorrow, taunting the lonely shadows that walk the mourning ground, serenading their love with the melody of their wet mouths moving in ardor.