Echoes of Love ( one direction)

All this time

Louis' POV:

The soft hum of the car engine slowly pulled me from sleep, my head resting against the cool window. I blinked a few times, letting the world come back into focus. I could feel the gentle pressure of Harry's hand around mine, steady and comforting. I turned my head slightly to look at him. His eyes were focused on the road, the soft evening light casting a warm glow over his face. When he noticed I was awake, he glanced over with a small smile and gave my hand a light squeeze.

I smiled back, still groggy, and stretched a little in my seat, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. As I looked out the window, I realized where we were—my street. We were almost at my house. A strange mix of nerves and anticipation settled in my chest. It had been a while since I'd been back. Lately, I'd been spending all my time at Harry's, where things felt safe, like I could shut out the world for a little while.

Harry parked the car in front of my house and turned off the engine, letting out a small breath. He looked at me again, his eyes soft, understanding. He didn't need to say anything for me to know he could sense my hesitation. I wasn't avoiding my family, but things felt different now. Being home reminded me of the life I'd had before, and facing that sometimes felt overwhelming.

Without a word, Harry slipped out of the driver's seat and walked around to my side of the car. He opened the door, crouching down slightly so he could sign, "We need to get you more clothes for school and just to wear. And it'll be good for you to see your family since you spend all your time at my house now. That's home to you, but you can't forget about here, too."

I gave him a small nod, trying to shake off the uncertainty in my chest. He was right. I needed to grab some of my stuff. I'd been cycling through the same clothes for weeks, borrowing Harry's whenever I ran out. Plus, seeing my family was probably long overdue. I missed them, even if coming back home felt a little strange.

He offered me his hand, and I took it, letting him help me out of the car. Together, we walked toward the house, the familiar front steps creaking softly under our weight. I could feel the cool evening breeze on my face, a sharp contrast to the warmth of Harry's hand still holding mine.

Before I could even reach for the door, it flew open, and I was immediately greeted by a whirlwind of energy—my younger sisters.

Félicité was the first to rush out, her arms wrapping around my waist in a tight hug. "Louis!" she mouthed excitedly, bouncing on her toes. She was quickly followed by Lottie, who practically launched herself at Harry, grabbing his arm with a wide grin. "Harry!" she mouthed, pulling him inside before he could even react.

Phoebe, Daisy, and Georgia were right behind them, their faces bright with excitement. They barely acknowledged me before grabbing Harry's other arm, dragging him further into the house. "Come on, Harry!" they signed quickly, their hands moving in sync. "You have to come play tea party with us!"

Harry glanced back at me with an amused look, his lips twitching into a smile as he let my sisters pull him into the living room. I could see the tiny plastic tea set already laid out on the floor, and I knew he was in for quite an afternoon.

I couldn't help but laugh softly as he disappeared into the chaos of my sisters' tea party. I could tell he didn't mind—he fit so easily into their world, like he belonged here just as much as I did.

With Harry occupied, I made my way upstairs to my room. The familiar creak of the stairs and the quiet of the house brought a sense of nostalgia that settled heavily in my chest. It was strange—this house hadn't changed, but I felt different. Like I didn't fully belong here anymore, not in the way I used to.

When I reached my room, I pushed open the door, and everything was just as I'd left it. My bed was still unmade, my clothes tossed haphazardly on the chair in the corner, and my sketchbooks were scattered across my desk. It looked like I hadn't even been gone. But as I stood there, the weight of the time that had passed since I last really lived here hit me.

I walked over to my closet and started grabbing clothes, stuffing them into a bag. I wasn't sure how long I'd stay at Harry's this time, but I wanted to be prepared. As I packed, I heard a soft knock on the door. I turned around to see my stepdad, Mark, standing in the doorway.

"Hey," he signed, stepping into the room. His hands moved slowly, carefully. He wasn't as fluent in sign as Harry, but he always tried. "It's been a while since you've been here."

I nodded, my hands pausing mid-pack. I didn't know what to say. It wasn't that I didn't want to be here—it was just easier being at Harry's. The noise of life at home, the reminders of how things used to be before everything changed—it was hard to face sometimes. But standing here, seeing Mark's kind face, made me realize how much I'd missed this place, even if I hadn't wanted to admit it.

Mark walked over to me, his expression soft, understanding. He sat down on the edge of my bed, watching me carefully before signing again. "You're staying at Harry's a lot."

I swallowed, my throat tight. "Yeah," I signed back, my hands moving slower than usual. "It feels... easier there. I don't know how to explain it."

He nodded, not pushing me to explain more than I was ready to. His eyes flicked to the bag I was packing, then back to me. "I get it. But we miss you, Louis. This is your home too, you know."

I looked down at my hands, guilt creeping in. I hadn't meant to stay away for so long. It was just hard to find the right balance between the world I had with Harry and the world I had here. "I know," I signed after a moment. "It's just... hard to be here sometimes."

Mark reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder, his touch warm and steady. "You don't have to explain it all now," he signed gently. "Take your time. But just know we're always here. You don't have to do this alone."

I nodded, my chest tightening with emotion. "Thanks," I signed softly, grateful for his patience, his understanding.

Mark gave me a small smile before standing up and heading for the door. "I'll let you finish packing," he signed, pausing for a moment before adding, "Don't stay away too long next time."

I watched him leave, feeling a strange sense of comfort in his words. I finished packing my bag and took one last look around my room. It still felt like mine, even if I didn't spend much time here anymore. Maybe, little by little, I could figure out how to find my place between here and Harry's. Maybe I didn't have to choose one over the other.

As I headed back downstairs, I heard the sounds of my sisters giggling and Harry's voice—muffled but unmistakable—playing along with whatever story they'd concocted for their tea party. I smiled to myself as I stood at the top of the stairs, watching the scene unfold. This was home, but Harry was home too.

I guess I was lucky enough to have both.