You Can Hear It In The Silence

Chapter 9

Harry woke to a quiet crash and Louis muttering, "Shit."

"You okay?" Harry asked him through his sleep-drunk haze.

"Yeah," Louis said quietly. "Just kicked my chest of drawers. Sorry for waking you."

"'S'fine," Harry said. He reached over to the bedside table and fumbled until he found the lamp switch and turned it on. Once his eyes adjusted, he pushed himself up onto his elbows so he could see Louis.

"Thanks," Louis said. He was standing at the end of the room, at the wardrobe. Harry could only see his side profile.

"Oh, this is your side of the bed, isn't it?" Harry asked. "That's why the lamp is here." He looked down at the bedside table. "And your phone charger. I'm sorry, I can move." Harry should have realised sooner. It was the side closest to the door. Of course, Louis would use that side.

"Don't be silly," Louis said. "I don't really have a side." He looked at Harry and paused for a moment. He opened his mouth and then hesitated. Just before Harry asked him what he was going to say, Louis spoke. "Would it be okay if I slept shirtless tonight? It's just I normally do, and I got kind of hot last night."

"Yeah, 'course. Do whatever you need to. It's your room." His voice sounded dry, and it would be because his mouth was dry as hell. It was just all too overwhelming. Louis was too overwhelming.

When Harry had thought that Louis was a complete and utter tosser, everything had been much easier. He had compartmentalised his attraction to Louis, separate from Louis the person because he hadn't liked Louis. It had still been awkward that Harry was physically attracted to him, but at least he'd known it was just physical. He just liked the way he looked. But it was getting harder and harder, damn right impossible, to compartmentalise them now because Harry was starting to like them both.

Starting was the wrong wording. It was a bit past starting. Just when Harry felt like he got a reign on all of, well, everything, Louis would go and do things like ask Harry if he was comfortable for him to sleep shirtless in his own fucking bed. Which made very little sense because Louis was constantly shirtless anyway.

Although an obvious conclusion would be that now that he knew Harry was gay, Louis was probably overly cautious. He probably realised exactly how creepy Harry is. All the times he'd caught Harry staring at him, blushing, or saying something stupid, probably all fell into place.

Harry hadn't helped the situation today at all. He'd spent the entire day crying in Louis' arms, asking him to stay with him, making him take care of him, and now he was in Louis' bed.

He didn't think he could take the blame for him being in Louis' bed, though. No matter how he looked at it, Louis had offered his bed. More than that, Louis had almost asked Harry to sleep in it. Which made no fucking sense at all... but all the same, Harry wasn't going to turn down the offer.

After taking all of that into consideration, Harry really did try not to watch Louis take off his shirt and hoodie. Louis' chest and torso were etched into Harry's brain and had been from the first day he met him. As time went on, he could add little details to the image whenever he snuck a look. He was almost positive he could name every tattoo he had. If Harry were an artist, he was sure he'd be able to draw Louis without a reference and not leave out a single detail.

But, something he had never seen was Louis getting shirtless and taking his clothes off. And somehow, wrongly, was in a whole other realm of enticement.

Harry didn't quite manage to divert his eyes before getting caught. Even then, instead of looking away, he just locked eyes with Louis. He supposed that was marginally better than staring at his chest, stomach, or just above the band of his track pants that sat obscenely too low on his hips.