A Change of Heart (Volume I)

Chapter 12.

"Is this cliche?" Louis asked, self-critically, as he looked at Harry's blindfolded face, a few curls sticking out between the fabric. He adjusted it, after noticing it was bothering his forehead, which he was crinkling. 

"No..." Harry answered. "It's just got more of a kidnapping feel than anything roman--" He stopped himself, not wanting to assume it was anything intimate that Louis had planned. "Where are we going?" he asked, blindly searching for Louis and his accidently brushing down his entire torso, which was clothed in a soft fabric. "Sorry..."

"It's fine," Louis chuckled, guiding Harry's hands around his waist for leverage, evening out his dress shirt, and helping Harry step out when they heard the familiar ding and sound of an organ repertoire. 

"We're not..."

"Yeah, we are," Louis said, stepping behind Harry, and loosening the knot of the blindfold before removing the silky fabric. Harry's eyes widened at the fairly lights adorning the story of the Eiffel Tower, overlooking the city, where the lights in shops looked like fireflies in the distance. His eyes glanced over the candle-lit table, and the fact that the only people on this floor were him and Louis, aside from the waiter and organ player, playing the thematic French music of romance. 

"Louis..." His voice trailed off, feeling Louis's hand pressed to his back, guiding him to the table. Louis had told him to dress nice, without informing him of where they were going, but when he finally saw Louis himself in his formal attire, he could've sworn he almost looked as handsome as he had at their wedding. Almost. It still felt like an odd memory, as well. He looked down at the extravagant buffet of options to choose from, all foods he couldn't even guess the price of. Broiled stuffed oysters, Terrine de Foie Gras, glazed carrots, filet mignon...

"I didn't know what you liked, or what you're allergic to," Louis explained, watching Harry eye the dishes. "I'm sorry if..." Harry shook his head and smiled at him from the opposite end of the table.

"It's lovely," he assured him, and Louis smiled, proudly. But that didn't last long when he noticed Harry's face switch into a contemplative expression.

"What?" Louis asked him. Harry bit his lip, looking like he was thinking how to word himself. He looked over his shoulder, at the empty balcony behind him, and then at the organ player and waiter who had just left for a moment. Louis frowned, realizing who Harry was looking for. "I...I made sure we got a different waiter," he said, awkwardly, and Harry looked at Louis for a brief moment before his eyes fell back to his plate. Louis frowned, thinking he shouldn't have mentioned it. 

"Why now?" Harry asked, and Louis watched as he stabbed at his filet. "I mean, how much longer until you're mean to me again?"

Louis cocked his head, confused. "Harry, you're the one trying to fuck it up before I've even--"

"And it's happening."

"Wha-you're...I just wanted to have a nice dinner because it's our last day here before we go back home, and it's been a ridiculous week! I figured we could end on a good note, but you insist on killing a good thing before it even starts!"

"Well, one of us always does. Has that not been the routine of this whole honeymoon?" Harry shrugged, not lifting his eyes from his plate. 

"Is that how you want the routine to be for the whole marriage? You don't want to get better; one of us just has to absolutely piss the other one off because neither of us deserve to be happy or calm for a tenth of a second?!" Louis snapped, harshly. Harry frowned deeply. There was a sick logic to everything he was saying. 

"It's not a real marriage," was all Harry said in response, and Louis scooted his chair out.

"Unbelievable."