Boundless •L.S•

Cruel|29

It's astonishing this feeling of longing to merely feel ones heartbeat and covet the feeling of being wanted.

Being held by someone knowing that you won't be assessed, for just a moment living without having to run.

Louis hands cradle through Harry's hair, the younger lad laying on top of him, their naked bodies pressed together like puzzles under the covers, away from the judging eyes of everything and everyone, just them and nobody else.

There is nothing heared other than the light pouring of the usual London rain - the little droplets hitting the windows, creating an exquisite melody of the most delightful orchestra - and the men's soft puffs of breathing.

None of the two coose to ruin the quietness of the room before Harry abruptly gets up and heads for the piano that has been sitting in the corner of the room.

Louis stays there on the bed, laying down as his eyes follow Harry's porcelain body, his hips slightly swaying in the most alluring way possible.

The younger lad sits down on the black bench, his hands resting ever so gracefully on the pianos keys.

Then he starts playing a song, the melody soft as Louis tries to recognise it, and yet, he doesn't seem to, which most likely means that it's one of Harry's songs.

As Harry presses each key skillfully, Loyis just sits there and listens to the beautiful melody that the black and white keys with Harry's delicate hands are creating.

Louis reaches for the nightstand and opens the first drawer where he knows a pack of cigarettes rests, so he grabs them and the soft pink colored lighter as he takes the cigarette out and puts it between his lips then lighting it, not a second later a puff of smoke is being breathed out.

It's not until the song is over that Louis gets up too and heads towards the sitting lad.

"Was that yours?" He asks his cigarette, resting between his two fingers.

Harry hums, "It is, doesn't have any lyrics yet..."

"It was good." Louis states what he believes to be the obvious truth to which Harry just nods as he goes to take Louis' cigar, but the older lad takes his hand away.

Harry frowns as he looks at the man in front of him, who just lowers down to his height, taking Harrys chin so he's looking directly at Louis, as he inhales the smoke just to blow it to Harry's face.

The youngest stays there for a second, "You - " Louis grins, backing away, and goes towards the ashtray resting on the nightstand and stabbing the cigarette there.

Louis lays in the middle of the bed, "Kinda cold in here, don't you think?" Harry smiles as he gets up from the bench approaching the bed.

"I think you're kinda right."

"Come over and help me then, Harold." Harry grins as he dives right into the perfection right in front of him, who he has gotten to know as Louis Tomlinson. Once again, devouring every inch of his milky skin.

. . . . .

Louis stares at the man before him, in only his boxers and an oversized band t-shirt. The speakers were playing a song of Fleetwood Mac, which Harry knew by heart, singing it with all that he had while chopping down vegetables.

Honestly, Louis does it before he can even think of his actions, coming up behind Harry and sneaking his arms around the taller lads waist, rocking them to the music as he sings long with Harry, setting hischin in Harry's shoulder.

"You can't disguise," Louis whispers in Harry's ear, "No, you can't disguise..." Harry halts a little as his breath hitches, his hands having stopped with the knife which he's having a tight grip into. "Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies." The older lad kisses Harry's holder before taking a step back, a grin taking completely over his face.

He can see the way Harry's cheeks have flushed crimson as he glares at Louis. "It's not possible for you to be such a bad soul..."

Louis laughs, "Oh, I am a very bad soul, indeed, Harold."

There is a soft pout on the curly haired man's face as he puts the vegetables into the pot and turns the stove on.

Louis shakes his head as he once again takes a few steps toward Harry, wrapping his hands around his waist, "Did I upset our planets angel?" Louis jokes, making a fake baby voice.

"Not funny, Tomlinson." Harry pretends to be angry but never pulls away. If anything, he snuggles a little closer into Louis, even if he would never accept that one to nobody on earth.

Louis hums as he kisses Harry's lips. Just because he can, he can kiss Harry Styles.

He can kiss this man in front of him because, quite frankly, both of them don't care to overthink any of their actions.

Maybe that's why Louis loves this thing that has been going on all night, just because he can be himself with Harry, he doesn't have to think of an answer but just say what's on his mind, Harry doesn't care, Harry likes his jokes, Harry smiles with him, Harry is lovely, very lovely - Louis agrees in his head.

"How can you be so cruel?" Louis mumbles as he kisses Harry's jaw, his hands travelling up from Harry's chest to his shoulders and then around his neck, Harry's eyes look so green and curious looking at Louis in a way that makes his stomach churn but in somehow a good way.

How does this make sense? Louis doesn't think it does.

"You're so cruel. You drive me crazy." Louis accuses as his hold around the younger lad tightens.

Oh, gods above, his eyes just seem as if they only get more mesmerising every passing second, those emerald green hues that have this kind of sparkle, he doesn't always have that sparkle in his eyes, Louis knows that and he doesn't like it, he wants Harry's eyes to always parole like that, looking young and careless, and boundless because he is, he should be.

"You make me feel those weird things. It's driving me absolutely insane, and you're so cruel for it, for looking so beautiful all the time..."

Harry just looks at Louis, absolutely shining as a small smile, etches on his lips, they kiss again.

And again, and again, and again...