"sometimes you just don't know the answer till someone's on their knees and asks you"
"harry? would you come downstairs, my love?" louis calls from the kitchen. he decided to make a special birthday meal for his boyfriend, harry, and it's gone to shit.
he was going to make what he made for their first ever date: chicken, wrapped in parma ham, stuffed with mozzarella with a side of homemade mash.
he burnt it.
"oh lord louis," harry says, walking down the stairs and fanning the smoke away from his face with a grimace. "what in the world did you do?"
"i was gonna make you a special birthday dinner but i burnt it," louis feels like a proper idiot.
"that's okay, lou. we can just go out to eat. it'll be fun and you hopefully won't burn that place down."
louis tries to salvage the meal he burnt but ultimately he picks up his keys in one hand and harry's hand in the other and walks briskly out the door.
before getting in the car louis thinks he must apologize at once.
"i'm sorry for fucking up your special birthday dinner, love. i thought i could make this one meal for you since you cook all the other times."
"louis, please don't feel bad. it's okay. it's the thought that counts," harry says with a soft little kiss.
louis loves harry's kisses. he loves the feeling of harry's gorgeous lips. he loves the way harry tastes. he loves how harry can always take his breath away, somewhat helplessly.
a few minutes later they arrive at their favorite restaurant: giorgio's. it's a small family owned italian place that they frequent. harry always gets the eggplant parmesan. louis tries to get a new thing on the menu every time. he wants to try everything.
it's something that louis thinks makes the two of them work.
harry is the push and louis is the pull. harry is the peanut butter and louis is the jelly. harry is the yin and louis is the yang. they're both so different, but they find such incredible balance within eachother.
it just makes them love eachother more.
"oh, i forgot to tell you, lou. my mother is having a huge birthday bash for me at the plaza this weekend. i know it's short notice, but, i mean-"
"yeah, so? who cares. it'll be great. i'm very excited."
"oh okay, great. good to know," harry has a strange, almost pleased look on his face.
"what's that face for?"
"oh, nothing," when louis glares at him with his special 'i know you're hiding something' eyes, harry says: "really louis, it's nothing you should worry about, promise."
"really? you really promise?"
"yes. absolutely," he pauses. "would i lie to you?"
louis knows that harry wouldn't lie to him but does he trust the words he's saying? not totally. he doesn't know what it is. call it an instinct or whatever you want but something just isn't right.
and all the days after that dinner leading up to the party, he keeps feeling that feeling deep in his soul. something just isn't right.
the day of harry's birthday, they're both getting ready in their bedroom. they share a huge 3 bedroom apartment in london. louis originally didn't wanna get it because it felt like he was drowning in all the extra silent space but harry said they could utilize it.
in fact his exact words were as follows: "babe, don't even worry about it. we can totally use all this extra space. ya know, with the cats... and maybe some actual children someday?"
that kinda scared louis.
kinda is an understatement. it really scared him.
but that's besides the point.
louis and harry eventually get distracted and instead of getting dressed, they get undressed... for 40 minutes. until they finally realize they're gonna be incredibly late.
so they hurriedly get dressed and hop in the car, hand in hand. thankfully the plaza isn't that far from their flat.
once they finally get there, they are welcomed by a slew of joyous family members hugging the both of them and greeting harry with a glorious booming of the words "happy birthday!"
the party is amazing. quite regal as well. everyone is dressed up and having the time of their lives.
that is until harry decides to get down on one knee while they're dancing. the room falls quiet.
gemma, harry's sister, whips out her phone and starts recording. everyone looks at the two boys with pleasant smiles and knowing eyes.
louis feels like he's being suffocated. he truly can't wrap his head around this.
he feels dizzy and afraid. he can't even think.
harry doesn't even get the words out before louis drops his hand and runs out of the golden ballroom of the plaza.
A/N: worst part is im not even sorry.
