Chapter 5: Well how do you know Harry Styles?

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I'm really sorry if this chapter is a bore, but I promise the next chapter will be better :) 

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It was warm. Like, really warm. Louis grunted as his eyelids begun to open and he tried to shift his position where he was lying. It didn't go well. There was an impossible weight on top of him and he was lying in uncomfortably on his back. He finally got his eyes to flutter open and when took the scene in front of him in, he had to take a moment to calm his nerves. Louis was lying on his back on the sofa, head on a pillow by the armrest. Harry had somehow crawled on top of him, arms clasped around his waist and head resting on his chest. Louis studied him for a second before he mentally slapped himself for being a creep. You did not watch somebody sleep!
Harry's hair was everywhere, sticking up from every side, and his cheek was mushed up against Louis' body, eyelids dropped closed lightly and he was snoozing peacefully. It was an intense and very intimate feeling, lying there so close, practically plastered to a boy he barely knew. But it felt right. Harry's long and heavy body was melting into him like he belonged there and Louis couldn't help but love the feeling.
Slowly Louis reached out a hand, wondering if he really should be doing this or not, and let it carefully comb through Harry's locks. He'd always fancied curls and Harry's were perfect. They were ruffled but not too frizzy, just soft and absolutely lovely.
Louis kept running his fingers through and through, wishing this moment could last a little longer. But Harry soon groaned and Louis sighed, readying himself for Harry's reaction to their positions around each other. He muttered something intelligible and Louis suspected his mind wasn't quite there yet. Louis let his hand comb through the soft locks once more, pouting over the fact that it would probably be the last time in a while, but to his surprise Harry seemed to lean into the touch. He smiled to himself. Maybe Harry enjoyed this just as much as he did only he wasn't quite as aware of it.

"Don't stop," Harry's deep, deep voice mumbled against his chest. Louis hand stilled for just a moment and a slow smile crept onto his face. Slowly he continued fiddling with the curls and let his fingertips run softly over Harry's scalp. He made a low and agonizingly beautiful sound of appreciation, and the fact that he was lying literally on top of Louis wasn't exactly a turn-off either. Louis felt his dick twitch and his head went crimson.
SHIT. SHIT. SHIT. He begged to the lords that Harry had not felt that and scrunched his eyebrows together, desperately trying to make his little friend down there understand that now was not the time.

"You stopped," Harry groaned and lifted his head. He looked up at him with big, green eyes and wrinkled forehead. Louis couldn't help it but the words "cute" and "adorable" popped to mind. Thankfully the color of Louis' face had gone down a shade and his dick had stopped being inappropriate.

"Sorry," he murmured, staring back into the depths of green. They were silent for a moment, just taking in the look of the other.

"You're really beautiful in the morning," Harry whispered. Louis' heart beat like a drum. It was rapid, his pulse staggering quicker and quicker. His cheeks reddened several shades again and he swallowed. Harry had just called him beautiful. He had just stared him in the eye and told him he was beautiful, like it was the simplest of things.
Harry bit his lip and Louis couldn't stop staring at it. He wanted to do that. He let a weak hand slip into Harry's curls again, the bland hairs, running through his fingers once more. Harry was leaning on his elbows now on either side of his upper body. If Louis leaned in, would Harry kiss him? Test theory. Slowly he lowered his head and–

"You're not that beautiful. Your face is all swollen." The voice startled them and Louis glared at a casually-walking-by-the-couch-Niall, and he was reminded of his freaking abscess-looking cheek. God, he had planned to kiss Harry with the unicorn! "It's all purple and shit."

Harry turned to face Louis again and examined his wound. A fingertip to his cheek, lightly brushing over it, had Louis in faint mode again. "It's not that bad...but you probably should have kept the ice on a bit longer last night."

You You You - Larry StylinsonWhere stories live. Discover now