Love is War (L.S.)

28

Standing outside Harry's home, Louis realizes that he's fucked up. He knew on some level that he was always fucking up - maybe not as cut out for this job as he had once thought. But, it's especially felt now as he watches Harry hand off the duffels to a man in all over black whose face is hidden behind a hood and baseball cap. See, Louis should be trying to discern who this man is or maybe even snap a photo of the license plate on his sleek Range Rover. But, his attention is somewhat divided between the exchange, and the way Harry's curls lick his shoulders just so. 

He's pretty is the thing. And yes, this is not news to Louis but it is definitely a problem now that it's physically keeping him from focusing on the task at hand. 

Harry kissed him. He fucking kissed him. 

And it was perfect. 

It was a stay up late, call your friends, and retell the whole event type of kiss. 

It was the most beautiful, breathtaking, movie magic kiss. Louis has been kissed before a good amount but it feels like he's actually never been because if that was a kiss, then men in the past have seriously been doing him some sort of injustice. 

It feels different now, though. Before, they were just hooking up and Louis could convince himself that they were simply helping each other relieve some of the built up tension. But now that they've kissed it just feels more...real. 

The man drives off just then and Harry saunters over to him with his hands in his pockets. He looks a bit boyish now. It shouldn't be endearing and yet it is. 

"Where's he taking them?" Louis asks finally, gesturing to the retreating vehicle. 

Harry raises a shoulder in a small shrug. "Doesn't matter."

He'll try again later, he decides. For now, Louis studies the face of the man stood before him. He looks rejuvenated and not as shaky as he had been before. He looks like how Louis thought he would before everything went down at operation extraction. 

Harry rubs at his faintly pink nose. "Doherty texted and said they were all able to get out, but Horan got shot in his right arm."

"Jesus," Louis murmurs. "Is he gonna be alright?"

Harry's watching him intently. "Yeah, we have a doctor friend and they've taken him to see him. Should be fixed up in no time."

Louis nods and glances at his shoes. They're all wet and gross from the rain that has now subsided for the most part - just a few drizzles here and there. 

"I thought you got shot," he mumbles, eyes still trained on his shoes. 

He hears Harry chuckle. "Yeah, that's why you were in such a rush to check on me," he says in a teasing tone. 

Louis straightens and looks at him properly. "I had to make sure everything was in place and we were alone alright?" he defends. 

In all honesty, Louis just wanted to get the cam and mic equipment off of him as soon as possible. He didn't want to check to see if Harry was really okay and risk the hardware picking up him accidentally saying or doing something moronic. Which, he naturally did. Kissing Harry was ended moronic. 

"I'm okay, Lou. No bullet wounds," Harry tells him and he pats around his sternum and arms as if checking to be sure. 

Louis glances at a spot over Harry's shoulder when he softly says, "You looked so small hunched over and like, you were in pain."

Harry takes a step toward him and shakes his head. "I thought he shot me. I heard the sound and it was so loud because he was right behind me but...he missed. I think I was just..." he trails off.