what a wicked thing to do (to make me dream of you)

Chapter 4

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚HARRY˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Harry is having a staring match with a tray of raspberry jam cookies when a familiar presence comes up to him. He knows Louis made them, and with the omega’s recent perplexing behavior, he doesn’t want to eat something that might have been poisoned.

“Jane made those,” Louis says, referring to one of the elder council members.

“No, she didn’t,” Harry squints suspiciously at him. He’s been having a more difficult time figuring Louis out recently, and it’s doing his head in. “I’m not an idiot, Louis. You make these for every single party.”

“She did,” Louis insists, his rosy lip jutting out in protest. “I gave her the recipe, yeah, but she wanted to try making them this time.”

“Are you trying to trick me?” Harry asks, trying to see if Louis is being honest. It’s not a Wednesday and he doesn’t think that this future mate would try anything in front of everyone, especially after his declaration at dinner, but he can never be too sure with Louis.

“It’s a cookie, Harry, not an atomic bomb,” Louis deadpans. “Everyone has been eating them all afternoon. I think you’d know if they were poisoned by now.” To prove his point, he picks one up and plops it in his mouth. “Yum,” he says, tongue poking out to lick the remaining crumbs off his glistening lips.

Harry follows the movement, before shaking himself out of it. “Fine,” he says, before tentatively taking one and popping it in his mouth. Sure enough, the buttery shortbread melts on his tongue and the bursts of tart raspberry jam are heavenly. His eyes narrow again when he sees Louis laughing at him.

“I lied,” the omega giggles, taking a step back like he’s already preparing for the consequences. “I totally made those.”

“Oh my god,” Harry groans, but he’s not really angry, not when the cookies melt like heavenly, sweet spun sugar in his mouth. “Are you kidding me?”

“Are you kidding me?” Louis raises a judgemental eyebrow at him. “You were going to deprive yourself of your favorite treat just because I made them? Those cookies are made to be appreciated and devoured. You’re so weird sometimes, I cannot imagine what everyone else thinks.”

Harry feels his mouth drop open at the accusation, although something flutters in his chest at the fact Louis knows what his favorite dessert is. “ I’m weird?” He asks incredulously. “I’m not the one who’s begun acting like an entirely different person.”

True to his word, Louis had been significantly less disagreeable during their shared university lessons. Harry caught him physically biting his tongue when he wanted to disagree during their lectures and to his surprise, he found that the action displeased him.

“Yes, well,” Louis says, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “You wouldn’t be the first to remind me it’s time to stop being an embarrassment to my family.”

“Who’s said that?” Harry demands, knowing very well he’s never said such a thing. “At the very least I know you are adequate since you have some deluded notion that you’re top of the class.”

Louis huffs out a laugh. “You have an awfully twisted way of being nice, don’t you? I am top of our class.”

Harry waves away the protest. Heaven knows how many times they’ve had this particular argument. Instead, he focuses on what Louis previously said, the notion of it tugging uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach. He knows he’s been antagonistic to the omega, but he’d never thought other people would have any grief. To Harry’s knowledge, Louis is universally adored.