A World Without Augusts

20

How much sorrow can I take?
Blackbird on my shoulder
And what difference does it make
When this love is over?
Shall I sleep within your bed
River of unhappiness
Hold your hands upon my head
'Til I breathe my last breath
Oh, oh woe-oh-woah is me
The last time that you touched me
Oh, will wonders ever cease?
Blessed be the mystery of love

The faint sound of Harry's voice filled the solarium and Louis' senses. Maybe love was the best way to describe what they had but neither of them would ever own up to it. The birthmark on Harry's shoulder was something he had tattooed in his mind. The position of it was forever etched into his memory. He remembered the email he'd received last night and took out his phone. He opened the mail app. When he saw the second email from the top in his inbox, it felt like his heart would beat out of his chest. It was an email from the Lloyds Banking Group. To think it was his safety option. He despised banks.

"Dear Mr Tomlinson,

This is to inform you that we have looked over your CV and we were thoroughly impressed by your skillset and experiences. We have set a date and time for your interview. Since you are based in London, it will be in our head office at 25 Gresham Street, London. The time frame is of an hour's, 11:00 am to 12:00 noon, on the 10th of September. You have a week from the time you get this email to get back to us.

John Smith,
Manager at Lloyds Banking Group"

Louis didn't even know how to feel. On one hand, there was Harry who was walking to him with those fucking dimples. On the other hand, his way out of here was sitting on the screen of his phone, he had wanted to leave here so desperately before. He clicked it off, smiling at Harry.

"You looked distraught for a second. Is everything alright?" His hands cupped Louis' cheek.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Show me what you're working on?" he smiled, effectively changing the topic. He set down the book in his lap and got up, following after Harry.

"It's a succulent garden. I had them shipped off the mainland, you can't get a lot of things here but you already know that," he said, kneeling down. Louis followed. It was an old dish from the kitchen and it looked like a little fairy's garden.

"Did you make all these? The house?" he asked, staring at the pot in front of him.

"Yeah they aren't that difficult to make and look, I fixed the poor dish. It was unused and frankly looked sad." His smile was dazzling and it broke Louis' heart further. He wouldn't be seeing any more of the things Harry made or listening to him about things he was passionate about if he sent back a yes.

"You can fix anything can't you?"

"Most things," he sighed. He had fixed Louis that was for sure.

Louis watched Harry stuff the washer machines with sheets. There were fewer ones than when he had first started being around Harry everywhere. He had read maybe one page of the book he had nestled in his lap but only Harry was to blame for that. He was far too distracting for Louis to focus on anything but him.

"Guests are leaving?" he asked as Harry sat beside him at the windowsill.

"Yeah, off-season starts from the end of November but the number of guests starts thinning out from the beginning of September. I don't blame them honestly. It starts getting colder and even more dreary. The storms in December are possibly the worst," he explained, leaning against the wall behind him.

"What do you even do in the offseason?"

"Refurnishings, fixing up the place, deep cleaning, sterilizing. There's a lot of work, especially since it's only Brie and me," he answered, staring out of the window. It had started raining and drops of water on the glass reflected in Harry's skin, making him look out of some magazine Louis read at the dentist's. "Read to me? I'm pretty shit at focusing so I mostly listen to audiobooks," he said softly and Louis nodded, opening the book.

"I haven't read much of it, you're a distraction," he smiled, flipping to the first page. Harry just chuckled, pressing his face against the cool glass.

"So, here she was, in the autumn of 1881, Beatrice Florence Bonnington, aged twenty-four years, being dressed for her wedding. The three ladies revolving around her, Mamma, Miss Brown from Ladies' Fashion in Papa's shop, and Hawkins, her maid, all wanted to be responsible for making her a beautiful bride. The material they had to work was not highly promising. Beatrice had no illusions about her looks..." Louis read in the same voice he used to read in when he was in year 9 and the teacher wanted to catch him off guard about his attention. The teacher could never succeed at that unfortunately, Louis always won.

If there was one thing Louis knew that he would remember forever, it was how Harry's face lit up when a guest complimented his cooking. He was standing a few feet away from Harry but he could still hear the conversation.

"This is absolutely incredible. If there is one thing that might make us come back here, it's this pie," the lady smiled and Harry was glowing.

"Thank you so much, ma'am. Really means a lot." His head lowered a bit before looking up again with a shy smile. Louis was a bit obsessed with it all. His head felt a bit dizzy and his phone was burning a hole in his pocket.

Louis looked down at Harry's sleeping form cocooning Louis' body. Oh God, how he wanted to tell Harry but that would only break his heart. He didn't even know how to leave the place anymore. He hadn't expected it today, he hadn't expected it ever. He always knew that wouldn't be with Harry forever but he hadn't expected this daydream of kissing in the rain and exploring old lighthouses to end so soon. And he wanted to push the entire blame on him. It was all Harry's goddamn fault anyway. How did Harry with his sweet angelic eyes and barely patched up heart even have the audacity to think he could learn how to love someone like Louis? Who gave Harry permission to tell Louis to eat with him that first night? Louis was fucked. Big time.