Given a Chance (Larry Stylinson)

Part Nine

Trigger warning: anxiety attack

***

At the end of the following week, when Louis was finally well and no longer feeling like he had come down with the plague, he found himself sitting on his back porch with Harry. It was still early in the morning, hardly past nine, and Louis really needed to cuss Harry out for how he'd changed Louis' whole routine around.
Louis had been just fine staying up late into the evening and waking up in the afternoon, but Harry had always been an early riser and he kept showing up early in the morning. Suddenly Louis found himself waking up earlier rather than later, regardless of whether he had plans with Harry or not, and that was just not on. It was going to ruin Louis' reputation! What would Reggie think? WWRT?!

Regardless, the two of them sat on Louis' back porch early Friday morning, Reggie lying on his back in the sunny grass while the two of them sat on the stairs in the shade. They both held styrofoam cups from Keith's, sipping on them quietly as they listened to the morning bird calls of Chance. Louis had informed Harry, rather sternly, that if he was going to continue to show up at the "Ass crack of dawn!", he better come bearing tea.

Thankfully for everybody involved, Harry had always been a fast learner.

So when he showed up that morning, holding two styrofoam cups (tea for Louis, coffee for Harry--because he was the worst Englishman alive), Louis had praised him loudly before beckoning him inside and out of the heat. Which could have been a solid plan for the whole day--a nice air-conditioned house--but somehow they had ended up following Reggie out back and into the current positions they were in.

Louis watched over the brim of his cup as Harry took a sip of his coffee. "You're turning into an American," Louis stated, nodding at Harry's coffee with a look of disgust.

Instead of responding like a normal person, though, Harry spread his arms out wide and proudly sang out the opening line to the Star Spangled Banner in an overly theatrical voice. "Oooooh say can you see!" Louis rolled his eyes (fondly, despite his wishes), hoping that Harry wasn't about to sing the anthem in its entirety. To his relief, Harry stopped after just the first line and then smiled brightly at Louis as he took a long, slurping sip of his coffee. "Yum."

"What would the queen think?"

"She'd probably think, Wow, I'm so glad Harry drinks whatever makes him happy and doesn't just stick to the stereotype that all Brits only drink tea!" Harry said with a roll of his eyes, though the corner of his lip turned up in a smirk.

Louis blinked at him. "I'm sorry, what the hell was that voice you just did?"

Harry grinned. "That was the queen, obviously. Keep up."

Louis barked out a laugh. "You're something else." That only seemed to make Harry smile brighter and Louis had to look away before his heart fluttered right out of his chest. He looked over to the yard, smiling fondly at where Reggie was sprawled out, all four legs up in the air shamelessly. "Fuck, it's hot," Louis said, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Why the hell are we sitting out here?"

"Because it's beautiful outside."

"No, it's hot," Louis corrected, pinching his shirt away from his chest and fanning it out. He glanced back over at Harry and found him smirking still.

"Maybe I should have gotten us iced coffee and iced tea," he said, a knowing grin on his face.

Louis narrowed his eyes at him. "Sacrilege," he said, pointing a disapproving finger at Harry. "Iced tea is sacrilege!"