If You Only Knew

Chapter 3

I wake the next morning to the sound of distant voices drifting into the haze of my dreams. The warmth of the bed wraps around me like a soft cocoon, and I bury my face deeper into the pillow, desperate to steal just a few more minutes of sleep. But the voices persist, their words flowing in and out of focus, tugging me from the edges of slumber.

"Boobear, it's time to get up," Jay's voice rings through the room, gentle but insistent. The door creaks open, and the quiet light of the early morning spills in. I feel the weight of her gaze as she enters, a soft smile curling her lips when she sees the two of us, curled up together under the blankets, still lost in the comfort of sleep.

"Boobear, Harry loves, you boys need to wake up. You have school." Her voice is warm, yet firm.

"Morning, Mum," Louis groans, blinking slowly as his eyes flutter open, a sleepy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Hi, love," Jay says, her tone shifting with a gentle concern as she looks over at Harry. "Did Anne have to work late again?"

"Yeah," Louis replies, his voice still thick with sleep, "he doesn't like being home alone, so I told him he could stay here."

Louis turns to look at me then, and his eyes soften, a warm smile spreading across his face. I can't help but feel a warmth in my chest as I meet his gaze. There's something about the way he looks at me, something that makes me feel like the whole world could be crashing down around us and he'd still make me feel like I was home.

Jay watches the two of us, her eyes lingering on Louis for a moment longer than necessary, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. The way his eyes light up when he looks at me—it's something she's seen a thousand times before. She knows, just like I do, that there's a quiet magic between us, something that doesn't need to be said aloud.

"Of course, love," she says, her voice filled with affection. "Harry is always welcome here. You know I love him like he's my own. Now, wake him up and get down for breakfast. We're all waiting for you."

She leaves the room before either of us can respond, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving only the soft murmur of the morning outside the quiet stillness of the room.

I turn to Harry, my fingers gently brushing his curls as I whisper in his ear, my voice laced with teasing warmth. "Hazza, wake up, wake up. If you don't hurry, I'm going to straighten your hair."

A soft laugh rumbles from his chest as he stirs, his eyes barely open. "You wouldn't dare," he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep.

I can't help but giggle, my fingers ruffling his hair more playfully. "You know I would, Curly! Now get up before we're both late for school, and my mum kicks both our butts."

"Okay, okay," he groans, sitting up slowly, his eyes still heavy with sleep. "Can I borrow some clothes?"

I laugh, already pulling myself out of bed and heading toward the closet. "Of course you can, Haz. You know where everything is."

I toss him a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, and he slips into them with a small smile. We move like clockwork, each of us taking our turns in the shower, the rhythm of the morning familiar and comforting. I grab my spare toothbrush from the bathroom counter, the one I always leave here—because I spend so many nights here now that it feels more like home than my own room.

Once we're both ready, we head downstairs to the kitchen, the smell of toast and coffee wafting through the air, filling the house with a sense of warmth and routine. We eat quickly, the conversation light but filled with the quiet joy of shared moments. The clock ticks steadily toward the time we need to leave, and before I know it, we're slipping into Louis's car, the engine rumbling to life as we drive out of the driveway.