Sugar and Spice

Chapter 8

TW: foul language

HARRY'S POV
​The more I hung out with Louis, the more my feelings for him grew. And the more my feelings for him multiplied, the more frustrated I got. Why couldn't we ever be more than just friends? I sat there, in Louis' kitchen, on one of the barstools when I felt a set of hands snake their way around my waist.

​"Guess who?" The person, who was obviously Louis, asked.

​I giggled, trying to ignore the butterflies that were fluttering around in my stomach.

​I played along, not wanting Louis to remove his hands from me. I could sit right here and burn in his touch all day. "I don't know, Niall? Oh, wait, no Liam!" I spoke.

​Louis chuckled and whispered in my ear, "Guess again." His raspy morning voice ran through my veins and goosebump trickled up my arms.

​My breath hitched, delaying my reply, but I managed to croak out, "Louis?"

​He retracted his hands from around my waist and I immediately missed his fiery touch. When he emerged from behind me, I saw Louis motherfucking Tomlinson in all his glory.

​I fondled over his golden stomach and inked skin and squirmed under his gaze. I felt heat rise to my cheeks. He continued to stare at me and smirked- why the hell did he just smirk? Oh my god, am I that obvious?

LOUIS' POV
​I loved seeing the effect I had on Harry. I mean, everyone I came across seemed to act some sort of way, but when I see Harry graze his eyes over my body and shift uncomfortably when I stared at him, it made me feel something I couldn't quite place. 

Some sort of pride in myself for making Harry feel like that, but there was something else. I liked it, I guess? I liked the fact that Harry was (probably) attracted to me. Not in that kind of way though.

More of an appreciation, you could say, for each other's looks. I couldn't imagine dating Harry, but I really like being friends with him. It's way better than this "mortal enemies" thing we had going on. 

Harry and I were hanging out more and more. It was like we were attached at the hip, wherever Harry goes, I go. Wherever I go, Harry goes.

And Harry sleeps in my bed now.

Neither of us really know what started it, but it's a thing now.

Ditto.

We would wake up in a tangle of limbs and bad breath. Harry would always spring out of the bed like a maniac and open up my closet (which he has pretty much taken over) to contemplate about what outfit to wear. I thought about the way my walk-in closet was now Harry's. Well, sorry, Harry did leave me a couple of drawers and a tiny section in the corner to hang up my work-attire.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized Harry had practically moved in. One day, he had brought over decorative pillows and soft blankets to "cozy" up my flat. He even decorated my front door for every holiday. I pretend to hate it, but it was actually pretty cool. I never realized how little I paid attention to my flat until Harry took over.

This month, pride month, Harry hung up signs and banners saying, "love is love" and taped rainbow streamers everywhere. It was impossible to walk through, and Harry would fondly scold me every time I thrashed and pulled at the streamers to move them out of my way.

I smiled at the thought of the decorations.

"What's got you smiling, Lou?" Harry asked, in a cheesy manner.

"Oh, buzz off!" I replied, nudging his shoulder playfully.

He giggled and stood abruptly from his chair. I gave him a questioning look, but then felt the contact of his hands along my chest as he teasingly pushed me back before running away before I could get to him. 

I chased after him into the living room where he was still running. I caught up to him and jumped on his back, forcing him to land on the couch, with me on top of him.

Harry froze.

I froze.

We burst out laughing and couldn't stop until a couple minutes later. Our eyes were watering from the happiness, and we were in such a daze that we both jumped when the doorbell rang. I snapped my head to the door and got up to answer it.

HARRY'S POV
​Louis. Louis on top of me, Harry.

​Oh. My. God.

​OH MY GOD.

​Louis got up to answer the door, leaving me to my thoughts. Which were of course filled with the blue-eyed boy I couldn't seem to get my mind off of. For fucks sake, I had a wet dream about him last night.

Thank god, we decided to sleep at our own flats then. What if it happened again, though? What if Louis' finds out I like him and doesn't want to be my friend anymore? What would I do? I couldn't live without him. No. No.

No, no, no, NO!

This cannot be happening.

I think I'm- no. No way.

I put my head in my hands.

I am.

I am in love with Louis.

Louis.

What. The. Fuck.

All this time I thought it was just some silly crush that would be gone quickly, but no. Louis just had to be so damn perfect all the time.

I panicked and stood up; Louis was coming back from the door with a package in his hand. He saw me and smiled.

"Louis, I need to go. Something came up." I lied.

His smile quickly faded into a worried expression, "What happened? Is everything okay?"

I faked a smile, "Yeah, yeah. Everything's good. Just some silly work emergency." I shrugged.

"Ok, um, see you later?" He said, unsure.

"Yeah, I'll text you." I said, grabbing my coat and walking out the door.