keep driving

20. moka pot monday

Song: so high school by Taylor Swift

When Harry wakes up, he's warm and comfortable. He just smiles and cuddles back into the warmth, only then realising it's Louis.

He's laying behind him, one arm slung around his waist protectively. Harry likes it, he probably shouldn't, but he really likes it. Maybe it's wrong that for a second, Harry imagines what it would be like if he woke up like that every morning, if Louis would cuddle him every night. If he would stay with Louis for, like, ever?

Feeling quite bold, he slowly interlaces his fingers with Louis' that are sprawled on his hip. He bites his lip nervously, waiting for a reaction that never comes. Louis doesn't move, so Harry supposes he's not awake yet. He hears his even breathing, feels how Louis' chest rises and falls steadily against the span of his back, and he feels safe.

He doesn't only feel protected, but also... home, in some way. Harry doesn't know where that thought comes from, but he's had many people to make him feel at home, his mum and sister, his first boyfriend, his best friend from primary school. He knows what it feels like. Louis feels like that, somehow. Harry doesn't know how this happened, after such a short time. Louis doesn't even know the name of Harry's sister, and still he makes him feel like this. His heart is beating hard beneath Louis' hand and he smiles slightly as he relaxes more into his embrace, feeling the warmth seeping through him.

He remembers how they drunkenly and giddily arrived near the shore of one of the small islands when the sun was already up and messily threw the anchor into the water, before they practically fell into bed. Harry once again has no idea what time is it but it doesn't matter. All that matters is that Louis is cuddling him.

Louis sneezes.

Harry jumps.

Then Louis wakes up, slowly lifting his head. Harry has a short crisis about what to do, if its weird that they're cuddling, but Louis makes it obvious that it isn't when he squeezes his hand and nuzzles into the back of Harry's shoulder. Harry turns his body slightly, smiling when Louis keeps his arm around him.

"Morning" Harry rasps out and Louis smiles widely, brushing a curl out of his face and tucking it behind his ear.

Then Louis suddenly starts laughing and hides his face in the pillow. Harry only smiles as he watches him, knowing he will get an explanation as soon as Louis calmed down enough to form words again, so he just waits patiently. "I dreamt that you were a fly and you followed me literally everywhere, always flying around my head annoyingly"

Harry joins into his laughter, because this is the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. And that's saying something, Harry is best friends with Niall Horan.

"And then I fell asleep and you flew into my mouth and killed me"

Harry hums, trying to stay serious, "Sounds like something I would do"

"It really does" Louis nods, taking his hand away. "Wanna go swimming?"

"Yeah" Harry says quietly, trying to not think about how couple-y this all is. Like, seriously. On a boat (a sailing yacht worth thousands of pounds for gods sake), just Louis and Harry by some beautiful greek islands, not a single care in the world.

Louis gets up and it's only then that Harry notices he's shirtless, only in boxers. He quickly looks elsewhere so that this situation doesn't get awkward. Louis definitely notices because Harry hears a small chuckle. He pointedly glares at the wall.

Louis doesn't feel the need to put some clothing on, apparently, because he just wanders around the small room digging through drawers. Harry rolls onto his stomach and watches him, cuddling into the soft duvet.