The Mayor Mystery (l.s)

Epilogue

Saturday, December 15th, 10.45 a.m.

She was a blonde woman, with brown eyes. His fingers were constantly drumming against her armrest, and her legs were crossed over each other. Her smile was kind, and so far he hadn't found her voice annoying in any way.

She was his therapist. And her name was Lily Harris.

Louis was sitting in a comfortable chair, his fingers in his lap, playing with his shirt's edges nervously.

"So, Louis," she spoke, voice kind, reassuring. "Wanna tell me why you are here with me today?"

Louis exhaled, his fingers stopping their game of fretting his shirt, instead running his hands up and down his thighs. "I'm here to get better."

Lily tilted her head to the side. "How so?"

"Mentally."

She smiled kindly. "That's great news, Louis. Now, do you wanna tell me your story?"

"My story?" Louis asked.

"The story of your life," Lily shrugged. "Right from the beginning."

Louis exhaled. He wanted to do this. "Alright, so..."

Saturday, December 15th, 11.55 a.m.

Louis exited the building holding his arm protectively against him. He had gotten the cast off only a week before. Ray had said it had healed good and even, though not completely, but he was still scared to bump it into everything and nothing.

He walked to Harry's car that was parked in the parking lot, Harry standing by it, wearing a thick winter coat and scarf, a grin in place.

"Hello, beautiful," he said as soon as Louis was within hearing range. He walked to him, holding his arms open for Louis to step into. Louis did so, burying his face in Harry's chest, exhaling.

"How did it go?" Harry questioned, running his hand soothingly over Louis' back.

Louis exhaled once more, kissing above Harry's heart before leaning away. "It went... alright. I mean, I'm not gonna feel fucking perfect after one session, but it was nice to talk and all that, and... I wanna return to doing it. I really do. I think it could be good."

Harry smiled softly, kissing Louis' brow. "I'm proud of you, have I ever told you?"

Louis grinned weakly. "Doesn't hurt to say it once more."

Harry pressed their foreheads together, noses bumping slightly against each other. "I'm so, so proud of you, Louis."

Louis sighed, smiling. "Wanna show me how much once we get to your place?"

Harry laughed, delighted. "You do know that the rules are still only vanilla sex, right? Nothing crazy."

"But my arm is free," Louis complained. "Absolutely fine."

Harry chuckled. "Nope, it's still healing."

Louis pouted. "I miss kinky as fuck sex where I tie you up and eat—"

Harry laughed, hiding his face in Louis' neck. "Get in the car. It's freezing out here, you horny bastard."

"Alright," Louis said, yawning. "Damn, that therapy actually made me tired."

Harry smiled, thumbing Louis' cheekbone. "A movie on the couch and hot chocolate?"

"That," Louis said, prodding Harry in the chest, "is the smartest thing you have said all day."