Love in a photograph

V1

Things move pretty seamlessly once they get a rhythm down, which doesn't take long at all. Louis wakes up early to open the store and creeps out quietly enough that he never wakes Harry, which is lovely. It takes Harry hardly any time at all to catch up on all of the sleep he missed in his noisy dorm, and school gets remarkably easier when he's not dragging himself through it. Louis stays at the store all day while Harry studies and goes to class, and when Harry comes home in the afternoon, he takes over the store for the last few hours of the day and then closes up, heading upstairs to find Louis working on supper. They eat together every night, and when they're done they sit quietly together at the table while Louis works on his bookkeeping for the store and Harry finishes up his homework.

It feels so natural, the way they work together. They never argue, never fight, and the one time Louis got annoyed with Harry's habit of leaving socks in odd places, they laughed it off and Harry learned to be more conscious of his belongings.

It's getting a bit cold now, well into November, but Louis starts a fire each morning when he wakes up and Harry tends it just before he leaves for class, and when he comes home in the afternoon Louis's kept it strong. It keeps the apartment cozy and bright, despite the cold air that still manages to leak in through the walls.

Soon it will be December, and then Christmas. Harry has already decided he's going to spend the holidays here, with Louis, because he doesn't feel right just leaving him out here all alone for a month until class starts again. Louis's birthday is on Christmas eve, as well, and Harry can't let him spend all of the most important days of the year by himself.

Harry's finals are coming up, and he's a bit stressed about passing them all, but Louis's been helping him study every moment that he gets. Harry studies all through supper and then Louis quizzes him while they do the washing up together, and Harry gets a blinding grin as praise for every term he gets right.

"Acquittal," Louis says, reading from Harry's textbook where it's propped up next to the sink.

"A jury verdict that a criminal defendant is not guilty, or the finding of a judge that the evidence is insufficient to support a conviction," Harry recites, eyes closed as he dries the dishes with a tea towel.

"Correct!" Louis cheers, smiling when Harry peeks his eyes open at him. "Admissible."

"Evidence that may be considered by a jury or judge in civil and criminal cases," Harry says, pulling open a cabinet to put the dish away and then grabbing the next one Louis hands to him.

"Word for word," Louis says proudly. "Arraignment?"

"Uh," Harry frowns, staring hard at the plate in his hand as he wipes it dry. "Um, shit-"

"A proceeding in which a criminal defendant is brought-"

"-into court, told of the charges in an indictment or information, and asked to plead guilty or not guilty," Harry says quickly, shaking his head. "Mark that one please," he sighs.

"You know that one, though," Louis says, though he still reaches over with one wet hand to grab Harry's pen and mark the word in the book. "You just needed a bit of reminding."

"I can't need a bit of reminding, though," Harry says, setting the plate and towel down and scrubbing at his face. "I need to know this, Louis, all of it, or I'm not going to pass. And I need to pass, I need to, or I'm going to have to drop out and Gemma's money will have been wasted and, god, we should have just helped Pa all along-"

"Harry," Louis cuts him off, and when Harry looks up, he's suddenly much closer than before. The sink is still running, still half full with dirty dishes. "Don't speak like that, don't be stupid. You know this, Harry, you're good at this, and none of it is a waste. Gemma is proud of you, your Ma and Pa are proud of you, I'm proud of you, and every single one of us believes in you. You need to believe in you, too," he says.

Harry sighs again, but Louis gives him a stern looks that leaves little room for argument. "Alright, yeah," he mutters, reaching for the plate he was working on and putting it away with the others. "Next word."

Louis grins, scurries back to the sink and resumes his washing while he finds his place in the list of terms. "Bail."

"The release, prior to trial, of a person accused of a crime, under specified conditions designed to assure that person's appearance in court when required," Harry says. Louis gives him a look over his shoulder, and Harry winces. "Also can refer to the amount of bond money posted as a financial condition of pretrial release."

"Perfect, Hazza," Louis says, handing over a dripping wet pan. "Absolutely perfect."

Harry takes the pan, ducking his head to hide his grin and he dries it and puts it away. Maybe he'll be alright, after all, but he thinks he'd never have been so lucky if he didn't have Louis. Louis's voicing his outrage over the ridiculous amount of variations of the word bankruptcy and, well, Harry would be absolutely lost without him.

Harry aces every single one of his finals. It's a week until Christmas and he's running through the fluffy snow falling on Winter Street, transcripts clutched tightly in his hand. He's nearly slipping over with every step, but he has to get home, has to let Louis know that he couldn't have done it without him.

He bursts through the front door and races through the store, finding Louis looking startled at the checkout counter at the back. Harry slaps the transcripts down on the counter and slides them into Louis's waiting hands, already smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. "I couldn't have done it without you."

Louis takes the folded papers and gingerly opens them, eyes scanning over the words. "A, A, A... Jesus, Harry, you've got perfect scores."

"I couldn't have done it without you," Harry says again, voice strained and giddy.

"This is amazing! You're amazing!" Louis laughs, rounding the counter to pull Harry into a hug. Harry squeezes back tight, pressing his face into Louis's shoulder.

"I couldn't have done it without you," he mumbles.

"That's horse-shit, but I'll accept the praise," Louis chuckles, pulling away too soon and shuffling back behind the counter. "You were born for this, Harry. You're going to be the best lawyer in the state of Massachusetts."

"Thank you for all of your help," Harry says, collecting his transcripts and holding them tight against his chest. "For letting me live with you, for helping me study, for easing my nerves. Thank you."

"Always," Louis says, reaching out to squeeze Harry's arm. "Always, Hazza."
"I'll be down to take over in a moment, I just want to put my stuff away," Harry says, setting off toward the stairs.

"Be quick, I have a celebration supper planned!" Louis calls after him. Harry frowns, peeking back around the doorway to the stairs.

"How'd you know we were celebrating? What if I'd failed?" he asks.

"I may not be in college, Harry, but I'm not stupid," Louis says. "There was no way you were going to fail."

Harry rolls his eyes, smiling again as he darts up the stairs. He'll have to write Ma and Pa and Gemma after supper and tell them the good news. He's never been quite this happy in his life.