we sin the same old sins

chapter 1: intuition

I tried to make a home out of you.

But doors lead to trap doors.
A stairway leads to nothing.
Unknown women wander the hallways at night.
Where do you go when you go quiet?
You remind me of my father, a magician, able to exist in two places at once.
In the tradition of men in my blood, you come home at 3 a.m. and lie to me.

What are you hiding?
The past and the future merge to meet us here

What luck, what a fucking curse.

---

The sunlight seeps through the blinds, casting a warm glow through the house, wrapping like a warm blanket. The windows of the house were wide, allowing the earth's placid atmosphere to join seamlessly with the interior. As the sunlight danced across the hardwood floors, it painted intricate patterns, reminiscent of rainbows.

Harry stands in front of the stove, beside him a carton of eggs and across from him, the stove he just oiled up. He can see Dawn through his peripheral vision, her little hands splayed over the bay windows as she watches the rustling leaves and squirrels on their patio. It was a sunny morning, classic California weather. That's the reason why they moved here, Harry enjoys the radiance it brings to wake up in the morning to the blue clouds and bright sun. He also loves to see how curious and amazed Dawn is to see the true beauty of nature⎯ aside from all the bees and ugly insects.

He taps the center of an egg on the edge of the counter before pulling it apart, over the pan. He tosses the shell in the motion detected dispenser and rinses his hands in the sink. When he turns around, he spots Dawn trying to lick the window and quickly strides towards her, sweeping the toddler off the ground. "You know not to do that," he gently chides. "Germs, remember?"

Dawn blinks her moon-eyes at him, her mouth occupied with her fist. Harry plants a soft kiss on her nose and walks back to the stove to check on the eggs. He knows Louis usually likes to have eggs and toast for breakfast, while he prefers to have bagels. It requires a lot of money spent on groceries, but he doesn't mind. They've got all the money, anyway.

In fact, recently Louis got a fortuitous check for the fundraiser he held. Louis shrewdly made his mark in the world of real estate. He certainly made a reputation for himself within the industry, exposing his networking skills. Harry swears, he loves the man more and more every day. But he's been working a lot ever since the fundraiser, which is usual for a workaholic like him. Now, he works too much, and Harry never thought he'd end up believing that. He used to work a lot himself, but he doesn't have the energy anymore after giving birth to Dawn.

Harry dazes out of his thoughts and flips the egg over for a second before serving them on a plate. He rhythmically bounces Dawn on his hip as he leans over the kitchen island to grab their bag of bread.

The floorboards creek ever so lightly and Harry swiftly recognizes them to be his husband's footsteps. Smiling to himself, he pops two slices of bread into the toaster and faces Louis, who's standing in front of the coffee pot. "I already turned it on." He says. Louis turns around, smartly dressed in his taut suit. Harry consciously pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, shamelessly observing the way Louis' blazer clung to his body like second skin.

"Thank you, baby." Louis murmurs huskily, trapping the younger man into the counter to seal their lips. Harry immediately responds, sighing into Louis' mouth. He would have kissed longer if it weren't for the agitated whine Dawn made, visibly bothered. Harry huffs out a laugh as he pulls away, looking at his daughter apologetically. "I'm sorry, my love."