Under Coloured Trees || Larry Stylinson

21

When Harry goes downstairs the next morning after waking up alone in the room, Louis is already there. Attempting to make breakfast. Failing miserably of course, but that's beside the point.

He woke up at 8 am with Harry's legs tangled up with his own and the boy's curly head on his shoulder. And he took a deep breath and it kind of felt okay. Good. Natural. Comforting.

That is until he remembered last night's events and he suddenly felt himself slowly losing his breathing faculties so he had to get up. Slowly. Gently, so Harry wouldn't wake up. He looked at how his curls fell on his face that wasn't red or wet from crying anymore. He looked peaceful. But it was just a look. Because Louis knows first-hand how messy and violent it can get inside.

His phone was filled to the brim of text messages and lost calls Liam was responsible for. Louis probably should've warned him so he didn't get too worried. But Louis isn't used to people worrying about him so he didn't think it through. He typed a quick reply saying he's with Lottie and he mentally thanked the universe's powerful force for making Liam be on the other end of the line and not Zayn. Because Zayn wouldn't have believed that.

He went downstairs just to find the house completely empty. Harry's parents were nowhere in sight and he didn't know whether that should make him worried or relieved.

"What are you doing?" Harry's voice from behind him startles Louis, who turns around and grins widely for once. Harry stands on his tiptoes a bit so he's able to look over Louis' shoulder, where something is clearly about to burn. "Are you cooking?" the boy asks lifting his eyebrows above his sad eyes.

Louis' smile just grows wider as he shrugs. "I know right?! Martha Stewart can suck my dick!" he exclaims happily as Harry just watches him, probably not sure about how to react to Louis' unusual culinary initiative. His gaze moves from Louis to the pan in the stove and he gives it a funny look. Louis turns back to look at the food and sees it's most likely about to catch fire. "Shit" he hisses, turning off the stove and getting the pan away from it, sliding it over the stove until it's on one of the cold burner rings instead of the hot one.

Harry and Louis both stand there and just stare at the content of the pan, which is something closer to carbon than eggs. Louis sighs loudly. "Well, I guess I jinxed it by talking about Martha Stewart, don't you think?"

Harry looks back at him. And in other circumstances, he would probably tease Louis to infinity. But not today, and Louis can't figure out what it is, but something's different. "I think it was already jinxed way before you brought up Martha" Harry replies with a dull tone, crossing his arms in front of his thin body as if he were cold.

"Yeah, you're probably right," Louis says looking at his sad attempt and choosing to ignore it. He is also trying to ignore the fucking voice in his head that's using this prickling sensation in his brain to annoy the hell out of him so he'll wish Harry a happy birthday. But he knows he can't do that. Because Harry practically begged him not to and because he's scared of his reasons. "So!" he says, turning to Harry. "Do you have any cereal or something?"

Harry stares at him serious, always serious. He nods towards a cupboard above Louis' head and the blue-eyed boy turns to look at the place Harry's pointing at, his body deflating immediately when he sees where the cupboard is.

"Ermm, Harry?" he says, looking down for a second and then at the boy again, blushing slightly when Harry acknowledges him and deeply looks at him with almost empty eyes. "I- umm... I can't reach that" he finishes, looking for an answer in Harry's stare.

Harry doesn't say anything as he would normally do, but Louis swears he sees something very similar to amusement flash in his sparkly eyes and the shadow of a tiny smile playing on his lips. So Louis does what he always does. He exaggeratedly rolls his eyes and ignores Harry as he goes to grab the cereal while Louis takes the milk out of the fridge and sits down on the countertop.