Lost L.S

Prologue

Harry

I attempted to sneak into Louis' house to apologize after we had a disagreement earlier. Wanting to make things right, I prepared dinner - tacos, our favourite - but mistakenly included avocados, which Louis detests. Determined to mend things, I remade the tacos without avocados and dressed in a cute button-up shirt with a denim jacket, an outfit we often shared.

Quietly climbing through his window with the tacos in hand, I found Louis on his bed, engrossed in his laptop. Catching his attention, I greeted him with a hesitant "Hey."

He glanced up, rolling his eyes upon seeing me. "Lou, come on. I'm sorry. I forgot you didn't like avocados," I pleaded, my tone laced with regret.

"How can you forget; I always tell you that I hate them," he retorted, his annoyance evident.

"I'm sorry, alright. I made them again. Without avocado!" I assured him, presenting the tub of tacos from my bag with a hopeful smile.

"Really?" he asked, a hint of scepticism in his voice, though a flicker of curiosity danced in his eyes.

"Yes," I affirmed, holding onto the tacos despite his attempt to take them from me, wanting to ensure he understood the sincerity of my apology.

"You know what to do," I teased, knowing his condition for forgiveness all too well. He leaned in to peck my lips, but I craved more. Deepening the kiss, I sought entrance with a lick to his bottom lip, but he resisted, a playful yet firm denial.

"No," he murmured against my lips, breaking away from the kiss with a mischievous glint in his eyes, a playful challenge between us.

Confused yet intrigued by his sudden change in demeanour, I questioned him, "What?"

"Give me the tacos. If I know that there is no avocado, you can kiss me, but not until I ate all of them," he explained with a playful grin, his tone daring me to comply with his terms.

Rolling my eyes at his playful demand, I relented and handed over the tacos, knowing that his forgiveness would come at a price - in this case, the enjoyment of tacos before a kiss, a playful exchange emblematic of our relationship dynamic.

As he indulged in the tacos, I couldn't help but marvel at his beauty, struck by the depth of my affection for him. Despite the joy of being in his presence, a profound sense of sadness settled within me, knowing that our love must remain veiled from the world. My parents' expectations for me to start a family, coupled with the societal pressures, kept us ensnared in secrecy, unable to openly embrace our love.

Amidst his enjoyment of the meal, he emitted soft moans of pleasure, prompting a chuckle from me. "What? You're a good cook," he remarked between bites.

"We just finished arguing over me having made a lousy dinner," I replied, recalling our earlier spat regarding the addition of avocados.

"It was a bad ingredient. You're a damn good cook," he affirmed, his words carrying a genuine warmth that dispelled any lingering doubts.

"What did you say? Did you say good cook or cock? I couldn't quite catch it," I teased, a smirk playing on my lips. His playful slap on my arm only served to heighten my amusement.

"I said good cook, because you are," he clarified, his tone laced with playful reproach, though his eyes gleamed with mirth.

"Yeah, I can hear that," I quipped, noting the subtle pleasure he derived from each bite.

"What do you mean?" he inquired innocently, though the mischievous glint in his eyes betrayed his feigned ignorance.

"You're moaning between your bites," I pointed out, unable to stifle my laughter at his feigned innocence.

"That's not true," he protested, attempting to deflect.

"Oh, so you're telling me I made you get a boner just by enjoying food?" I teased further, relishing the playful banter between us.

"What?! You didn't just get a boner because I like food!" he exclaimed, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"Say it louder, I think your sleeping sisters didn't hear it," I teased, goading him further, revelling in the light-hearted exchange between us.

He opened his mouth as if to shout his rebuttal throughout the house, but I quickly covered it with my hand, expecting him to play along. However, to my surprise, he began to lick my hand, his movements gradually growing more intimate. Despite my attempts to maintain composure, his tender bites and sensual licks sent shivers down my spine, stirring desires I struggled to contain.

Unable to resist any longer, I released my hand from his mouth and pulled him into a passionate kiss. The intensity between us escalated, and he pressed against me, igniting a fervent desire within me. Trailing kisses along his jawline and down to his neck, I marked him as mine, each touch a testament to our hidden love.

Little did he know, as we savoured this intimate moment, that it would be the last time he would see me.