valentine (Complete)

III

Louis is still on the couch - dried tears covering his face, still in the same clothes, and in desperate need of the bathroom but refusing to get up - when Harry, keeping his word, buzzes his flat. 

He still stays where he is. It's embarrassing. He's ashamed of himself, and he refuses to see Harry - not like this. Not with his face so crunchy and in need of washing and shaving. Not in the same clothes, same pitiful position on his couch, as Harry had last seen him in. 

So he ingores the sound filling the empty room. He's thought about it all, he really has. Harry had said he enjoys spending time with Louis. The feeling is mutual, Louis doesn't want to end something he enjoys so much, but he would hate himself if he felt so selfish for dragging Harry down. 

It all felt impossible. It felt like the world was sitting on top of him, trying to get him to give up. 

So that's what he does. 

It's what he's best at, isn't it? He could fall into Harry, let himself be happy with his life for the first time since... since when? 

It's on the fouth of Harry's rings that Louis registers himself blinking. He lets his eyes stay closed for a moment, lets them burn. When did he blink last? 

When he opens his eyes again, they land on the middle of his three-shelf "bookcase" - it hardly holds books, only the bottom shelf has any books. The top holds CD cases for his favorite movies, the middle holds a few more CDs along with some action figures, most of which were gifts. 

And the board. 

On the middle shelf, to the very right side, next to a Superman movie and action figure, was the board he prepared when he knew Harry was coming over. On it was a blue peg, three holes into the small blue track, and a red peg, two holes into the red track.

Harry rang the bell again. 

Louis didn't give himself time to think - he wouldn't. He spent his life neglecting himself, caring for everyone but him. It was his turn to be selfish. Harry was letting himself get dragged into this, who is Louis to stop him? 

"Door's unlocked," he says into the speaker after forcing his body to the door. He knows how fast Harry can get from the front door of the building to the door of his flat, so he has to be faster. 

He starts with rushing down the hall, into his room. He grabs a random sweater from the edge of his bed - probably Harry's - along with a pair of sweats. He changes in record time and finishes right as he hears the front door open. 

Damn, he really has to piss. How bad would he be to make Harry wait a little longer? 

"Just a minute," he almost-shouts down the hall as he rushes from his room to the bathroom. 

He's quick to use the toilet, but as he's washing his hands, he looks up and... oh no.

He really is a mess. His hair is greasy and jumping in all different directions, his face is puffy from crying he doesn't remember doing, and... Is that? 

With a slight hesitation, he grabs the collar of the sweater, and examines it closely. That would be why it was so carelessly discarded at the end of his bed. Maybe Harry wouldn't notice? It's unlikely, he's quite observant. 

While his hands are still wet, he brushes his fingers through his hair a few times, trying to make it look a little bit okay. After he nearly controls it, he rinses his face, cursing that it's the best he can do at the moment. 

He finally steps out of the bathroom and finds Harry, in all his annoying beauty, sitting on the floor of his living room, with the board Louis had just been examining set up in front of him, their deck of cards in his hands as he shuffles them. He's an expert at that - shuffling. Louis can never get the cards to fit together the way Harry does. 

"I'm sorry," Louis says as he sits in front of Harry, refusing to meet his eyes and instead watching his skilled hands blend the cards into each other. 

"It's okay, I'm in no hurry. It's your deal first by the way," Harry tells him, setting the cards in front of them. His voice is soft, so soft, and it makes Louis want to cry all over again. What's wrong with him? Why can't he just hold himself together? 

"That's... I'm sorry for yesterday. I got in my own head and freaked out over nothing. On your birthday too, which was kind of a crap move," he says before he starts dealing the cards, counting them under his breath - another thing Harry was so good at, multi-tasking. He could deal while talking, Louis always loses count when he tries. 

"Louis, I'm not upset with you. I understand your fear entirely, you're trying to get on your feet and I understand that. Heck, I've officially been an adult for a year now, and I'm still trying to figure out what I'm doing. It's hard, finding stabili- is that cum? On your sweater? No, that's my sweater," Harry interrupts himself, and Louis stops dealing for a moment as he feels his cheeks redden. 

"I didn't look when I grabbed it," he mumbles, recounting the cards he's already dealt to continue. 

"You know, you could just go shirtless," Harry tells him, and the flirty tone to his voice makes Louis laugh. 

"In this weather? Only if you make me a Christmas cup."

And maybe Louis did end up shirtless. And maybe his lack of a shirt led to lack of other articles of clothing. But who is Louis to kiss and tell?