"Why do you keep looking at me?"
"No reason! I just... I love the way you look in the sunset."
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Larry Stylinson AU.
Louis and Harry are complete strangers, but Harry is persistent on the two of them being friends.
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☀︎︎
Harry skipped his way through Louis' house. Even if it was barely six, he wanted everything to be perfect. Louis was starting to be able to talk again despite doctor's orders, and he only wanted to make this day perfect.
Mark went to New York for a business trip, and Lottie was at a friend's house. All of the little ones had gotten a baby sitter. Harry didn't want Louis to have to act as a father on his birthday.
Using Anne's recipe, he made chicken and waffles, along with a breakfast waffle-cake-thing to put 17 candles in.
He was proud of himself. Ever since he stopped eating, he could never cook. He dropped out of culinary because he couldn't stand being around so much food. But since Louis helped fix that, he wanted to make him an amazing birthday breakfast.
As he let the chicken cook, he finished up wrapping his gift. He worked really hard on what he got Louis.
After another two hours, Louis' own nose stirred him awake. It was dark in the room other than the little Christmas tree on his dresser. It was so warm though, under his covers and with-
Wait. Where's Harry? Louis patted his hand around on the bed, drowsiness evaporating. The only thing coursing through his head was the fact that Harry might be forcing himself sick.
"Haz?" He shot up, going straight to the bathroom. But Harry wasn't there. He let out a relieved sigh and caught sight of him in the mirror. "Yikes." He rasped, patting his hair down.
He tugged on a sweatshirt and acknowledged the smell in the house. Waffles. Definitely waffles. And... Chicken? Chicken and waffles?
He ran downstairs, smiling when he saw Harry swaying a bit to a Fleetwood Mac song. He was singing too, and Louis tried to make out his voice from the song.
All he thought about was how Harry said he couldn't sing. What a fucking liar!
Harry turned, and then jumped back. His face went pink. "Jesus, Lou."
Louis smiled. He loved the way Harry looked early in the morning. How his curls were messy but still looked perfect, how his eyes were a little puffy from sleep, bringing out the bright green. All of it made Louis' heart soar and stomach flutter.
"Morning." He smiled, voice raspy from both sleep and injury. He stretched his arms out, yawning.
"Happy birthday." Harry beamed, stepping around and showing the mountain of waffles and pile of chicken. In the middle was three pancakes with a bunch of candles and whipped cream.
Louis' smile faltered. He meant it when he told Harry he wasn't a fan of birthday parties. Maybe he should have been more specific.
"Are you okay?" Harry stepped forward, reaching an arm around Louis' hip. "Did I do something wrong?"
