Paradise Child Book 3 (Imprisoned in my Heart trilogy...Larry)

Chapter 3

Micheline hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d said her house was unmissable; when Harry and Louis reached the other side of the hill the next day, they were confronted with a street of uniform houses; brown, orange, and cream, and all identical. Apart from the very first house on the road, which appeared to have been recently painted bright blue, a similar colour to Micheline’s hair. There was a bright red convertible lounging in the driveway and the house had blinds instead of curtains like every other house on the road. The overgrown, tangled garden was littered with play equipment that Alice wouldn’t be able to use for several years yet, and the washing line was groaning with the weight of what seemed to be a whole wardrobe full of clothes hanging off it. But by far the most conclusive evidence that this was the right house was that there was an open window on the top floor, and they could clearly hear the distinctive scream of baby Alice as she howled for all she was worth.

There was nobody around other than the two of them, hovering uncertainly near the garden gate, but Harry got the feeling that all of the other houses on the street were staring disapprovingly at Micheline’s, for having the sheer audacity to be so bright compared to the subdued colours of everything else.

Shrugging, Louis stepped forwards and opened the gate, and they wandered up the path to the front door. Confidently, Louis knocked, and then stepped back a little and put his hand back on Harry’s hip, either to reassure himself that Harry was still there or to reestablish his new posessive role.

The door opened and the boys found themselves face to face with a man about a head shorter than Louis, wearing paint-flecked jeans and a baggy grey shirt, with stubble on his chin and ginger hair that curled at the tips. His feet were bare and his eyes were bleary with sleep, like he’d only just woken up, and in his arms he held Alice, although like Micheline he barely seemed to have hold of her, and Alice was not at all impressed by the arrangement, kicking her little legs to show her displeasure.

“Hi,” Harry said, “erm, we met Micheline yesterday? She told us to come over? I’m Harry, by the way.” He smiled uncomfortably, pretending he didn’t want to grab Alice and make sure at least someone had a decent grip on her.

The man, who was presumably Rupe, turned around without acknowledging their introduction and yelled up the stairs, “Oi, Mish! Those two guys are here, the ones you were on about yesterday.”

Micheline yelled back, “Give Alice to them!”

Rupe blinked. “What?” he shouted.

“Give them Alice! It’s the only way to shut her up!”

Shrugging, Rupe turned back to them, and looked down at his baby. Then, he shoved her at them – only even as Harry lifted his hands to recieve the child, Rupe thrust her into Louis’ arms, then turned and headed back into the kitchen, yawning and rumpling his hair as he went. Stunned, Louis looked down at the girl and then pulled a face at Harry, as if to say ‘what can you do’? Harry just stared for a while, astonished. He had expected to feel the slight weight of baby Alice in his arms, and to see her wide eyes staring excitedly up at him – instead, Louis had that, and Harry wasn’t sure how to react. Perhaps with jealousy? But he couldn’t be jealous, because Louis smiled down at the little girl and touched her cheek with one slim finger, and Alice immediately stopped wailing, her voice stuttering into silence, grabbed Louis’ finger and held on tightly.

Instantly, Louis’ whole face lit up and softened amazingly as he looked down at the little girl, and Harry saw an expression flit across his face that he’d never seen before: it was surprise, happiness and delight all at the same time, combined with the kind of paternal look that made Harry’s insides melt. He started shaking a little, incomprehensibly. Harry hadn’t realized Louis could look more beautiful than he already did – sometimes, Harry would just stop and stare at Louis, while he was eating or sleeping or lying lazily on the floor daydreaming, or when they were sat together doing not very much, and he was always caught by surprise at how honestly gorgeous Louis was. He could be pulling the ugliest face ever or sitting in the most unflattering position known to man, and Harry would still have to catch his breath and steady himself. This was one of those moments, except he’d never felt it so fiercely before.