With A Little Kindness (Larry Stylinson)

Treat You Right

"When will Louis be here?" Tilly whines for what feels like the millionth time in the last few hours. She's kneeling on her little chair, elbows resting on the window sill with her chin in her palms as she peers down to the street below. Her Peppa house is all set-up ready to play on the coffee table when Louis arrives and Harry smiles at the scene before turning back to take the salad he's prepared out of the fridge.

"Not long now, sweetheart."

"You said that last time."

And the time before that, and the seventeen times before that, Harry thinks to himself. It's sweet, albeit a bit grating at this point. Louis had said he would catch an Uber over and bring wine for them to share, which will be a nice treat for Harry. His budget rarely stretches to a luxury like that.

He's made a simple dinner, just a chicken pasta with veggies and a napoletana sauce, some crunchy garlic bread, and a green salad. Louis had insisted on bringing dessert because apparently he loves to bake; as if Harry could be any more endeared by this enigma of a man.

The table is set with their best crockery (well, the matching ones) and Tilly is dressed in her favourite outfit, each piece selected specifically by her. She's got quite a flare for the dramatic in her fashion choices. Tonight's outfit consists of hot pink leggings with black vertical stripes, a black turtleneck, and a shag-pile white sleeveless jacket that has these little faux-crystals inlaid around the collar and lapels. The crystals are a bitch to deal with when they fall off (which happens each time she wears the jacket because they're only hot-glued on) and Harry has crunched his heels on them more times than he'd care to remember.

The weather had been proper shit on Wednesday evening so they hadn't been able to visit Louis at training as they'd planned, but they'd FaceTimed instead, Clifford being the main attraction for Tilly once again.

He glances up to the clock on the microwave, watching it tick-over to six o'clock as Tilly squeals from across the room. "He's here!"

Louis is right on time, which doesn't surprise Harry in the slightest, his consideration manifesting in ways that Harry suspects will continue to make itself known in many other areas of their- relationship? Is that the right label for it yet? Is it too soon? They're dating, that's easy enough to acknowledge, but has it reached relationship status?

Tilly dashes past Harry and yanks open the front door as the buzzer sounds. "Mummy! Can I let Louis up?"

She's such a responsible little girl. Even though it's only going to be Louis, she still has the sense to ask Harry before she buzzes him in. "Yes, you can. Thank you for asking, though."

"Who is it?" Harry hears her ask politely through the two-way speaker.

Louis' chuckle rings through the flat and Harry can't wait to have him here in person. "Oh goodness. Do I have the right place? You sound far too grown up to be my little bug."

And good lord almighty, Harry's heart isn't going to survive tonight; 'my little bug.'

"I am your little bug!"

"Well, then could you maybe let me up, bug?"

The buzzer clicks and Harry hears Tilly run out onto the landing, Louis' footsteps announcing his presence before Tilly can shout at him down the stairwell. "Louis!"

"Hello, bug. Oh! Don't you look lovely," Louis' raspy voice echoes outside the door as Harry wipes his hands on the tea towel and does a final check of his hair in the reflection on the microwave.

"I picked them all myself," Tilly says proudly.

"You did an excellent job."

"Mummy doesn't like this jacket because he steps on the crystals and squeals like a little, baby piglet."