You Take Me Over, You're the Magic in My Veins

chapter 2

Louis wakes up with the roosters the following morning, lies in bed for a few minutes while the room brightens and the castle wakes up around him. He can feel excitement suffusing his body, a lightness he hasn't felt in months, not since his mum informed him that the princess would be coming to meet him and finalize their engagement. Louis turns his head slowly on his pillow, but his breath leaves him in a disappointed sigh. There is just an empty stretch of wood where the rose had lain the night before, and all that's left to hint it was ever there is a touch of perfume in the still air of the room.

It's early enough that the breakfast room is still full of people when Louis arrives. His mum has already come and gone, but three of his sisters are sat at the table while their handmaidens fuss with their hair, and Harry is huddled over a steaming tea cup on the opposite end, shirt drawn tight across his shoulders and hair falling over his forehead in loose curls.

Louis' stomach clenches and flops over pleasantly when Harry looks up as if he sensed Louis there. Louis can still see the sleep behind his eyes, but the smile Harry offers him is warm and genuine, and a sudden gust of wind blows through the room, sending the curtains flapping like mad and toppling over Daisy's cup of milk. Louis shivers at the drop in temperature, glances out the window, baffled. The sun is still shining bright and there's not a hint of cloud in the sky, and he can still hear the castle workers bustling about outside as if nothing is amiss.

Shrugging, Louis makes his way over to Harry, brushing a hand over his sisters' shoulders in greeting as he goes. A servant sets his breakfast down at the seat next to Harry without a word about the fact that it's not his usual seat. Louis thanks him with a quiet murmur, then tucks into his food, waiting for Harry to speak first.

He doesn't have to wait long.

"Good morning, Louis," Harry hums. He taps two fingers against Louis' wrist and heat spirals out from those points, warming him after the gust of icy air.

Louis takes a sip of tea to give his racing heart a moment to slow before answering, "Good morning yourself, Harold. Did you sleep well? Were you comfortable?"

Harry hums, eyes bright and lips quirked up into a shadow of a smile. His tone is mild when he says, "I'm not used to sleeping in such a large bed. So much space for just one person."

Louis freezes, hand clutching his tea in mid-air. He feels something settle in the pit of his stomach, something that feels like anticipation. He is aware, somewhere in the back of his mind, that this is dangerous - Harry is the brother of his betrothed, and as such is off-limits. He has never been one to pass up an opportunity for some harmless flirtation, though, so Louis sets his tea down carefully, then angles his body toward Harry and murmurs, "Is that so."

Something taps gently against the side of his boot, and Louis feels Harry's foot settle, heavy, on top of the toe. Excitement spreads like a vine down his limbs, trailing warmth in its wake. He lifts his toes inside the soft leather of his boot so that Harry can feel the pressure against the bottom of his foot, grins at the way Harry ducks his head to hide a blush.

He leans in close, cheek nearly brushing the soft material of Harry's shirt, and says, quiet and slow and raspy, "I'm sure you can find ways to put that space to use, hmm?"

When Harry looks up, their faces are close, close enough that Louis could count Harry's eyelashes if he wanted. Close enough that he can see the flecks of darker green around Harry's pupils, can make out every freckle, can feel his sharp little intake of breath.

Harry's voice is deeper, slower than usual, thick like the molasses the cooks use when they bake cakes when he says, "Do you have any suggestions, then?"

Desire throbs in Louis' gut, but before he can answer, another gust of wind blows into the room, whipping Harry's hair into his face and rattling their tea cups in their saucers. Louis shakes off his confusion, takes a moment to steady his tea cup. When he looks back up, he's disappointed to find that Harry has put space between them. They eat the rest of their breakfast in relative silence, bodies held carefully apart, save the gentle pressure of Harry's foot over Louis'.