Have I forgotten how to love; remind me once again

Chapter Twenty-Six

A/N I cried while writing this chapter - you'll have to find out if it's because I'm mentally unstable or it's actually sad lol. 

Later that night, when they're laying closely in Harry's bed, Louis' head resting on Harry's chest while the younger boy is drawing slow patterns along the curve of his spine, Harry feels like taking away Louis' breath once again.

"I meant it, you know", he hums, and Louis has to lift his head in order to look at Harry's face with scrunched up brows as he tries guessing what the boy is referring to, but his brain is all fuzzy and sleepy from Harry touching him - something he didn't stop doing when Louis moved his head. "Hm?" Louis asks, giving up on trying to guess what exactly Harry is talking about.

For a moment, the darkness is quiet between them, and Louis can't help himself from reaching out and fixing a stray curl that has made its way into Harry's face, carefully retucking it behind his ear. Louis' hand freezes there, just above Harry's ear, clutching the curl when the boy's next words paralyze everything but his rabbiting heart.

"That even if I don't quite remember how it felt to love you, I can't ever phantom not falling for you all over again. Day after day".

There's no other possible answer to that than for Louis to lean down and kiss Harry softly. And when that still doesn't feel sufficient, he does it again and then again, soft kiss chasing after soft kiss while his heart is fluttering at a dangerous pace. Louis can't help but think that Harry must be able to feel it, as their bodies has shifted closer, Louis now completely resting on top of Harry.

One move of his hand to Harry's chest tells him it's okay though because underneath his fingers, Harry's heart is beating just as rapidly. God, they're like teenagers admitting their love for the first time, and never has the world felt more perfectly aligned.

Finally, Louis finds his words against, halfway whispering them directly in between Harry's lips when none of them pulls back. "I love you, Harry. God, I love you so much".

It becomes more frantic from there, hands grasping and holding on tightly. Lips meeting in a bruising dance, short of breath and incapable of being close enough.

The familiarity of the passion between them is scarily present, yet Louis feels like he has never kissed anyone like this before, bodies exploring each other as if it is the first time, drawing maps across shoulders, backs, faces, necks, traced closely by lips leaving breathless kisses.

Harry is the one who pulls back for air first, which is probably good because Louis was about ready to give up on breathing all together for this to never end.

Gasps of breath are the only sound for about ten seconds, both their flashing white smiles clear even in the dark room. Harry apparently finds it hilarious to make Louis flustered, one hand in the older guy's hair as Harry whispers slyly, "Remember what I said?"

That's not too specific, and all Louis has on his brain is love, love, love, so it feels like running face first into a glass door (not that he has ever done that... not more than once at least) when Harry continues, his hand tightening in Louis' short hair. "About the three dates".

Louis has to bite back the groan threatening to leave his lips as a response, but both him and Harry are completely aware of Louis pressing unwillingly closer and the obvious lie that leaves his lips as he tries too hard to be casual all the while failing miserably. "No, I don't think, I do".

With that, Harry grabs Louis' ass for leverage, turning them over smoothly so he's the one on top and Louis is left with his eyes closed - on his back and trying to stop his brain from shutting down at the innuendoes of Harry's question. He barely gets a second to recover though.