You Can Hear It In The Silence

Chapter 21

Louis woke up to his face being covered in kisses. Usually Harry let him sleep in or would secretly prod him awake and think that Louis didn't notice. To be fair, it had taken Louis a while to be sure that Harry was actually doing it; he was sure now, though. But it was always at a reasonable time, and Louis couldn't complain that Harry wanted to spend time with him. However, it didn't feel like a reasonable time right now.

"Morning," Louis croaked out, voice thick with sleep.

Harry stopped kissing him and pulled back as if to get a better look at him. Then he beamed. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas," he said to Harry, even managing a smile, mainly at Harry's enthusiasm. "Times it?"

"Eight," Harry said. "I know it's early, but it's Christmas!"

Louis also couldn't remember a time when he'd seen Harry this excited. He hadn't figured Harry to find Christmas exciting, and it was charming that he did.

"It's fine, love," Louis said. "Do I have time for a shower?" He got out of bed, and Harry did the same.

"Yeah, of course. I've already had one, though, so I'm not going to come in if that's okay."

"Don't remember inviting you."

Harry pouted, and Louis kissed it away with a laugh. He glanced at what Harry was wearing. He was in jeans and a shirt that was more formal than what Harry would normally wear. Louis considered this as he went through his bag. He'd been trusting that Harry had packed something similar for him, and he'd been right.

"I'll meet you downstairs, yeah?" Harry asked.

"See you soon." Louis walked over to him and kissed him again. "Merry Christmas."

Harry grinned, dimples showing. "Merry Christmas, Lou!"

Louis hadn't been excited about Christmas since he was a very young kid. Back then, Christmas had been exciting, just as exciting for him as it was for other children, he'd assume. Because back then, all he'd really cared about was presents. Luckily for him, that was all his parents seemed to care about as well. Their large sitting room would be full of wrapped gifts just for him.

In his excitement, he almost didn't care that he had to spend at least half an hour getting ready, often into pyjamas he hadn't worn to bed and getting his hair done. If doing that so that his parents could get the perfect photo of their perfect son in their perfect house meant that he'd be able to open the presents, he'd put up with it.

It got less and less exciting as he got older. It wasn't that the number of presents decreased, and sometimes his parents would still watch. Although they'd stopped taking photos... of him. Perfect pictures of their perfect house littered with gifts still made their way onto social media. He just was never in them because he'd stopped being their perfect child.

And that was an illustration of how he felt. It wasn't about him. It was about everything else. None of the presents was ever personal, which didn't surprise him because he doubted his parents had any idea what he liked. And as much as he wanted things back then, he didn't need a brand new phone, computer, drone, wardrobe, and whatever else they decided he required.

They only did it because there was an expectation that every kid at his school started the year with all of those things.

Sometimes for Christmas, he got to see his grandparents, aunties and uncles, and cousins. Christmas still had to be at his house because his parents would insist they'd host it. And while it was an over-the-top pretentious mess, he still liked seeing his family. Especially as most of them seemed to see it for what it was - an opportunity to show off.