A World Without Augusts

14

Louis woke up late that morning, the bustle of people downstairs making his head hurt. Shit. He was supposed to help Harry. It was a Sunday and more people from the island came to get lunch after mass and he had slept in like an absolute fool.

He was jumping on one leg, trying to get his joggers up but also put on his shoes. Needless to say, it was a disaster. He patted down his hair, opened the door and ran as fast as he could without making the guests think it was a mental institution instead of an inn. Brie was still waiting at the end of the stairway for him and he just about wanted to throw himself off the cliff when he saw her ears drooping down.

"B did you wait for me all this while?" he asked with a sad smile and she just nuzzled against his leg. "I'm sorry, love. Let's go help Harry yeah?" he sighed, walking with a very floppy happy corgi behind him.

He was right, the whole place was swamped with people. Niall and Tim or Tom were helping him and yet Harry was running from table to table.

"I'm so sorry, love," he whispered to Harry as he took the plates from his hands and headed towards the kitchen. He felt like he was his old self again, the man he was before he met Harry.

He was pouring water in Deborah's glass as he glanced at Harry leaning against the doorframe that led to the kitchen. The crowd had thinned out, only a couple of people left behind. Harry looked relieved but there was a certain glint of accomplishment in his eyes.

"You like him a lot don't you, Louis?" she quipped, making him look down at the glass which was almost overflowing. He swore he wasn't looking for that long.

"No um I just um no," he fumbled, placing the jug on the table, "How'd you know my name was Louis?" he asked after a while, trying to change the topic.

"Harry told everyone at the florist committee about you. He talks a lot about you, darling," she chuckled. So much for wanting to change the topic.

"I guess I'm just that interesting," he laughed, voice clipped as he walked away in the pretence of getting something from the kitchen.

Louis' heart was beating unnecessarily fast when he went past Harry to take Brie's leash. He had the knowledge of Harry's infatuation with him, information he didn't know where to keep. He didn't date, hell he didn't know how to date. It was why he didn't leave Luke, all these emotions were simply too much for him.

"You going up the cliff?" he asked with a smile, the playful glimmer that had begun to show recently imminent in his eyes.

"Yeah um I'm gonna call Zayn. I'm taking Brie too," he said quickly, flashing a smile and Harry nodded.

"Come back early today, it looks like a storm is approaching," he informed, patting Brie's head, "And, you missy, you be good and don't bother Louis," he smiled.

"She is never a bother, Harold,"

Louis dialled Zayn's number as soon as he saw he had network. His ever-loving best friend picked up after three rings, answering the phone with a million questions.

"Zayn, calm down. I'm alright, I did eat and yes, I do keep myself warm," he answered with a smile from knowing these habits too well, walking around the cliff and Brie following along.

"How have you been then, Lou?"

"I'm alright. Actually, no. I'm not alright. I just found out that Harry likes me back. Like he didn't tell me, Deborah did. Apparently, I'm all he talks about that the florist committee," he rushed, words tumbling out of his mouth before he could realise how odd it must be sounding to his best mate.