keep driving

12. hashbrown, egg yolk

Song: jealousy, jealousy by Olivia Rodrigo

"Now," Louis starts, cutting off a piece of his hash brown and smirks. "Who would have guessed that drunk Harry is so bold and flirty?"

Harry lets the fork with a piece of fried egg fall back onto his plate and drops his face in his hands. "Oh god, stop."

Louis across the table just snickers and takes a bite. "Do you remember the things you said to me?"

"Please stop." Harry whines and covers his ears.

This morning, he woke up in the sand of a beach he hadn't seen before, with both their old shirts and Louis' hoodie used as a pillow, Louis nowhere to be seen. He'd died a million deaths because the sun was so fucking bright and his very hungover self couldn't cope with that, so he had just laid down face first in the sand, hoping to suffocate.

But soon enough, Louis came back, came up behind him and pulled him up, whispering a "Good Morning rockstar" into his ear.

Harry had squirmed away and shaken his head, "Don't shout"

Louis only laughed at him, he had apparently fulfilled his promise since he had a cold bottle of water and a pack of painkillers in his hand. He even said he didn't steal any of that, bought it with the money he sort of stole but kind of earned from the people at the party who thought he was one of the waiters and tipped him, mostly to show off. He helped Harry get at least kind of over his hangover, held his hair out of his face as he threw up in a nasty public beach washroom and rubbed his back soothingly.

His sunburn was almost gone now, at least and that was how Harry noticed it's been almost a week since they arrived. A week with Louis alone, a week without cellphones and he hadn't even realised.

When he finally felt better, they walked into town and found a cheap but nice cafe to have breakfast in. Louis took mercy on him that long, but now, of course, he has to take the piss.

Harry zones out and ignores how Louis makes fun of him for getting drunk off the drinks a macho asshole bought him, how he said Louis was good at 'this whole riding thing' and how he wanted to play butterfly on the motorcycle. While Louis is laughing his ass off, Harry just watches intensely how the egg yolk floods out when he cuts into it. Even though, soon enough, he starts smiling as well, because Louis' laugh is kind of contagious.

"I never thought anyone could be so wise while being so wasted." I chuckles with his mouth full and Harry doesn't even have the energy to tell him off for it.

"I doubt I was wise." He only says, raising one eyebrow.

"You recited some Shakespeare, I think." Louis tells him. "Right before you passed out. You were all like," Louis straightens his back and raises his arms into what he must think is a wise pose. "To be or not to be... and then you passed out."

Louis lets out another laugh, watching as Harry perks up, glancing down on himself. "Did I hurt myself again?"

"No," Louis shrugs. "I caught you." At Harry's face he lets out another laugh. "No biggie."

Harry slowly leans back in his seat, not really able to answer that except with a small smile. Louis really took good care of him. Ever since he realised that Louis has an entrancing atmosphere around him, somehow pulling Harry into a majestic field in which he cannot think of anything but him, he tried to have other feelings. He tried to appreciate Louis as a mate, thank him for helping him because that's what friends do, but somehow he cannot stop wondering what his hand would feel like in his own.

He can't stop imagining walking to class with Louis, to steal glances at him during seminars and to catch him looking back at him, what it would be like if Louis walked him home from the movies or picked him up with his motorcycle to go out for dinner. He wonders how their fellow university students would react if Louis Tomlinson was to be going out with Harry Styles.