The credit starts playing after about two hours and I move my shoulder away so it stops touching Harry’s. It felt so nice, being that close to him for so long.
“How’d you like it?”, he asks, smiling so softly, so prettily, so perfect.
“Was good”, I say, “Wasn’t it?”
He nods so his curls fall into his eyes and he brushes then away with his hand carefully. I’d like to do it for him. I’d like to touch him, just subtly, like when he had his head in my lap. I miss having him close.
We get up and grab the empty bottles and bag before throwing it away outside of the hall. Once we get closer to the exit, I see the rain falling down heavily, thick splashes of water landing on the street. I can’t believe summer is this rainy this year.
“Ew”, Harry makes and the way he says it makes me laugh out loud.
“It’s just water”, I say with a shrug and push the door open, only to jump back inside again right afterwards. “Ew.”
“I told you.”
I roll my eyes and scoff. “Should we run home?”
He nods. Nods and pushes open the door with his right hand before taking my hand with his left one. I think I gasp and I’m happy the rain is louder than that absolutely weird sound leaving my mouth.
He wraps his slender soft fingers around mine and drags me through the street, water falling down on us, our clothes and hair getting soaked within seconds.
“I can’t anymore”, Harry shouts, panting after we’ve been running not even half of the way to our flat.
He stops under the small roof of some shop, putting his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. “Ugh.”
“I’ll tell you a secret”, he says, “I hate running.”
“I’ll tell you one too. I hate rain sometimes.”
“Another secret. I think the guy in the movie should’ve been gay, it would’ve made the storyline better.”
“I think that popcorn is overrated.”
“What?”, he shouts, “I think that Taylor Swift is the best female singer alive.”
“Sometimes when I’m home alone I watch Peppa Pig.”
He snorts. “Now we’re getting the interesting stuff. Okay, my turn. I hate sleeping in the dark or alone.”
“I had a stuffed animal until I was eighteen and then I threw it away because I was ashamed.”
Harry pouts what makes me giggle quietly. “Go, your turn.”
“I like cooking for you because it makes me happy when you are.”
My heart races a little bit now and I smile, smile, smile. So broadly.
“I like when you cook for me because it makes me happy.”
“Good”, he says, continuing, “I thought you were weird when we first met. I don’t think that anymore.”
“I thought you were a bit awkward when we met. I think you’re pretty amazing now.”
“I liked hugging you.”
“I liked you holding my hand.”
“I like being close to you.”
I like you.
“Good to know”, I say the rain getting a little less as we continue standing under that roof, “I like that too.”
“Okay”, Harry says, and then he’s locking both of our hands with each other, pulling me close on both of them until our chests are nearly touching and I have to tilt my head back to still be able to see him.
“Okay”, I repeat, barely being able to talk because he makes my breath hitch.
It almost looks a little as if he wanted to kiss me. He pushes me back again though, our hands still intertwined and then pulls me closer again repeating it over and over again until it looks like we’re dancing weirdly and he end up pulling me in, head against his shoulder.
“You’re pretty amazing”, he then whispers into my hair and oh, how I wish I could just put my lips against his right now.
“You are really wonderful.”
Oh god, did I really say that?
But he just chuckles happily, nods and doesn’t let me go.
“I think you saved me a little.”
“I think you did too. I was pretty lonely without you and didn’t even notice.”
He doesn’t stop hugging me for another five minutes or so and I just want to stay like this forever and ever and ever. Never let go again of him.
“We should go home”, he whispers into my hair again, “I’m freezing and you’re shaking, Lou.”
I nod and smile at the nickname before slowly pulling away from him. It feels like when you try to tear apart two magnets.
“Can I?”, he asks, reaching out his hand and I nod way too eagerly and fast before grabbing his hand and squeezing it one, two times.
And then we walk home together. Home. Oh, why does he feel like home so much?
All the secrets he told me are spinning around in my head, bouncing up and down and up and down like little gummy balls, up and down, not coming to rest and it makes my head dizzy and my heartbeat rise and it makes me hold onto his hand so, so tight.
“You go first”, I say, once we enter the flat and I have to let go of his hand, “You take quick showers anyway.”
He nods and as I predicted, he’s back just seven and a half minutes later, drops of water from his wet hair dripping onto his pyjama shirt.
When I get back from showering as well, we both sit down on the couch, shoulders pressed together tightly, as if that was a secret connection that made us stronger than the rest of the world.
“I’m tired”, Harry says with a yawn, “Think we should sleep?"
I nod. “How about a real sleepover this time?”
And then he nods and we get up to carry my mattress to the kitchen and lay it down next to the sofa, nearly tripping over a chair, not being able to stop laughing the whole time until we fall down onto the mattress ever so happy.
And when he crawls under the blanket in the sofa and I get comfortable on the couch below him and his hand dangles down, I wonder if it’s a sign.
I just take it and he presses it twice. I think it’s an agreeing to the handholding.
I press back. I like it too.
“Last secret of today”, Harry whispers when we’re both nearly asleep, still holding hands, “I think you’re the only person I trust.”
“Last secret”, I whisper back, “I think you’re the only person I admire.”
~~~
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scarred wings (l.s.)
FanfictionLouis studies teaching at university. On his way there, he passes a homeless boy every morning. Harry has scars, they can't always be seen. Some are covered by the dark ink on his skin. Louis really likes Harry's butterfly tattoo.
