drowning on a dry land [ls]

Chapter 3: You look like a dream

Trying to convince himself that he wasn't setting himself up for heartbreak was becoming more and more difficult each day.

The charade kept going on until another house party, approximately a year after the one where Louis had first spoken to him.

Harry is perched on the same red bean bag with a plastic cup in his hand. He slowly sips a beer and cringes at the taste. Beer just isn't for him. From the corner of his eyes, he spots Louis talking to his friends. Louis doesn't look as amused and laid back as he always does. Harry draws his attention by waving at him. He feigns a smile and waves back Harry gestures to him to come closer and sit on his lap but the drunk boy refuses with a sad expression etched on his face. He subsequently excuses himself to the bathroom. Harry could see his eyes welling up before he dashed through the door. Worried that he had upset him, he immediately trails behind Louis.

"Lou," he called after him but the boy was already out of his sight. His feet seem to have a mind of his own and before he knows it, he's standing in front of the bathroom door with anticipation. He knocks on the door thrice before entering it. Only to be faced with a teary-eyed boy who sat in a corner with his arms wrapped around his knees, hugging his chest. He clearly hadn't heard Harry sneaking up behind and had his eyes fixed on the wall. Harry's heart clenches and he crouches down. He hesitates for a while before wrapping his hands around the shivering frame of his boy. Louis thankfully doesn't move away from the touch- but he doesn't turn around to face him either.

"Would you refer to me as your boyfriend, if your friends ask you why I keep clinging to you?" He speaks without an edge to his voice. Just vulnerability. Each word is accompanied by a staggered breath and Harry can feel his heart sink when he notices the way his lips are quivering. He takes a sharp breath and looks everywhere but Harry's eyes. "Or do you plan to keep me on the hook until I give up?" He sniffles, pulling away from Harry's touch.

He was baring his heart out for Harry.

"Because I love you, I really do." The boy squeaks and fixes his eyes on his own shoes with a sigh, as if he was ashamed to admit it out loud. "And I want you to tell me, what do you feel about us? I can't go on like this if you do-'' Louis moans when Harry yanks him forward by the back of his neck and presses their lips together. Their tongues danced messily until they were out of breath. A lot of teeth-clashing and exchange of saliva takes place until they are just smiling into each other's mouth. Harry and Louis walk back into the living room with their hands intertwined and lips swollen from sucking each other's faces like they had never done before.

Their bean bag has been occupied by two giggling girls. One of them had their backs turned towards them. The other however was in their year and Louis had seen her in that last lecture they had. She pouted at them as they stood tall, silently demanding what was theirs. Her name was something with the letter A, he was sure of that. Once he guessed it right, he could talk her into finding another place to crash on.

"Abigail," she supplied, noticing that Louis was struggling to remember her name.

"I'm not getting up. I couldn't if I wanted to, my legs are like uncoordinated tentacles... but the point is that you leave, you lose!" Abigail screeches like a broken record and the girl next to her got up complaining about a headache named Abigail. Abigail, however, raised his eyebrow at him. She looked determined to not let go.

Louis huffs in defeat, or so Harry thought because soon his eyes have a spark that indicates that he has come up with an idea. He whispers something in Abigail's ear and she pretends to think about it. He pouts at her, with the lethal addition of making puppy eyes and Harry sees her face melt. No one could resist that! She nods encouragingly and tilts her head towards him.

"Thank you, love." She giggles when Louis' hands are in her hair. Harry tries not to clench his jaw at them. It was from confusion only, there is no way that he was jealous. Louis must have noticed this, this is why he makes a show of brushing his ass against Harry's crotch when he further leaned down.

He slowly removes the tiara, brushing away the golden locks and places it on Harry's head. He marvels at the fact that its color matches with his shirt, the same shade to the precise. Louis tucks some of Harry's curls behind his ear and leaves a single strand to dangle from under the piece. Doe-eyed, Harry tries not to fall flat on his face when Louis blows a flying kiss to him. Instead, like the cheeky fellow he is, he closes his fist around the air and keeps it in the pocket of his denim jeans.

"What are you looking at?" he mockingly asks Louis, who is making sheep eyes at him. Upon hearing the question, the boy pauses for a second, he runs his tongue along his bottom lips before replying.

"You look like a dream, always do," he gets on his tippy toes to plant a kiss on his forehead.

Harry blushes when the people around them start cooing.

"Trojan horse!" is all the warning Abigail gets before Louis tickles her out of the bean bag.

"You little shit," she swears, followed by a huff as she plops herself on the couch beside them. Louis pokes his tongue out to tease her. He pushes Harry on it to straddle his lap.

As the floral tiara with blush pink spray roses and white pearls settles in his curls, Harry realizes that he can't afford to not be with Louis. Even if that person in the corridor was right. Even if they were born to die.

Even if the young love was destined to go up in flames, he wouldn't curse their fate. At Least he'll have a story to tell people- a story about a beautiful boy who kissed Harry in college and called him his darling.

That day Harry decided that it's okay if Louis and him aren't the ones who end up owning a house with a small garden and a patio in their backyard.