Misadventure

52

Louis' POV

It was chilly this evening. The sun hadn't gone down yet, but it would set fairly soon. It took ages to pitch the tent (reading the directions was for squares), but eventually we figured it out.

"The wind is dying down. We could start a fire now," I said to Harry. The poor baby was shivering.

"Fuck," I swore, realizing something.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Marshmallows. I forgot the marshmallows."

The car was parked half a mile away, near the base of the mountain we were closest to. The majority of our belongings were still in the trunk. That was intentional on my part, because we didn't need all of the supplies just yet. That stuff was for the surprise towards the end of the week. It wouldn't be of any use for camping.

Except for the marshmallows. Those sure would come in handy right now.

"Can't we walk back to the car and get them?" Harry asked. "We can't have a campfire without marshmallows. That's illegal."

"It is not illegal," I retorted.

"Well it should be."

I tried my best not to laugh at how ridiculous he sounded, because I knew he was being serious. "Darling, is it really worth it to spend the next 20 minutes walking because of a bag of marshmallows?"

Then he did that thing he always does, where he sticks his bottom lip out.

My heart did that thing it always does, melting at the sight of him.

"Fuck it, we ball!" I declared and started walking. "To the car we go!"

"You're the best," Harry said, running a few to catch up to me. He crashed into my side, giggling. Then he took my hand in his own, swinging it as we walked.

Something I'd come to realize about Harry, was that he really didn't ask for much. It took so little to make him happy. He just wanted the people he loved to be happy and healthy, and to show that they loved him back.

It made it really, really hard to say no to him. Ever.

And despite my complaining, it didn't take long to start enjoying the trek across the valley, back up to the car. The sky was grey, thick rolling clouds covering the sun and leaving the air chilly.

As we typically did, Harry and I found ourselves lost in conversation.

"You did not," Harry said, covering his mouth with his free hand in shock. "Louis, tell me you're joking."

"I can't. I'm afraid it really happened." I had just gotten done recounting the story of when I showed up to school hungover and puked all over Will's desk in home room.

One of the few perks of Harry knowing about my past struggles with drinking and drugs, was that I could fill him in on what I'd been up to in the time we spent apart, after he moved to Manchester. I wasn't proud of most of the stories. They were painfully shameful to talk about. But there were a select few, such as this one, that I could at least laugh at now.

"Lou, can I ask you something?"

I grinned, squeezing his hand playfully. "I have a feeling you're going to."

"Are you ever going to tell me what happened with Niall?"

My smile fell. "I wasn't planning on it."

"Louis."

"Harry." I smiled, playfully poking his nose.

He did not smile back.

My stomach churned nervously. I didn't even like thinking about what happened with Niall, let alone talking about it. "I'm sorry. I can't."