Fight Me Bitch

Chapter 9

            Louis woke up surprisingly… alone. No Harry in sight. The room was dark and the blinds were closed. Louis stood and immediately laid back down, no clothes. He wanted to laugh, how ironic.

            Louis wrapped a thin sheet around his lower half and looked around for his clothes, no such luck. He huffed and sat on the edge of Harry’s bed. Why was it that every time Louis was with this guy his clothes went missing? He walked to Harry’s closet and opened it slowly; he wasn’t sure why he was afraid to open a closet. What could be inside? Louis thought for a moment, he really didn’t know Harry very much. He knew he was a fighter, he was gay, he liked strange music… but that was about it. Louis didn’t know Harry at all and Harry didn’t know Louis. For all he knew Harry could be a weirdo, he could be a pedophile or serial killer.

            Louis decided that he was over reacting and he opened the closet.

            There were no dead bodies or anything weird but there were clothes. Louis sighed and rubbed his head, why did he have sex with Harry last night? He wasn’t drunk this time, he couldn’t use that excuse. He wanted Harry last night, oh and he got him. Over and over and over… Louis thoughts slowly drifted back to last night.

            “Fuck, you ready for round two boo?”

            “Mmm! I ca-can’t… too tired Hazza…”

            “Oh we’re defiantly going for another round.” Harry dug his nails in Louis butt cheek. “Your ass wants it, so I’ma give it what it wants… maybe even a round three…”

            Louis shook himself out of his thoughts. He picked out one of Harry’s sweaters. Louis lifted it and read the wording; “COME AT ME BITCH” was in large white lettering against the large black hoodie. Louis laughed and turned it around, “STYLES”. Louis’ mouth twisted into confused frown, Styles? That made no sense, what was a Styles? He shrugged and threw on the abnormally large sweater. He walked over to the mirror to see how it looked. Louis eyes’ scanned over his reflection; this was no sweater! It was a dress, a dress that reached just above Louis’ knees. Harry was a tall lad… about 6 ft.; Louis was standing 5 ft. 4 inches to be exact. He was even shorter than Niall. Louis pouted and tried to roll up the sleeves that covered his hands. After 3 minutes of the sleeves not cooperating, Louis gave up.

 He stuck his head outside and was hit with music he actually recognized.

            “Give me love like never before…Cause lately I’ve been craving more…”

Louis slid out of the room and walked toward the kitchen, hearing humming and pots and pans. The floor was cold against is small bare feet; they made the smallest sound of tapping as he approached the kitchen. There was Harry, in only sweat pants making what looked like oatmeal. Louis cleared his throat softly so he wouldn’t startle Harry. The fighter stopped stirring what was in the pot and looked at the entrance of the kitchen. A whistle escaped Harry’s mouth.

            “Woah…” Harry smirked and pointed the spoon in his hand at Louis, “nice sweater a bit big, but I like it.” Louis bit his lip and turned his feet inward. “Good morning…” Louis voice was soft; he couldn’t remember the last time he actually woke up… happy. Harry set down the spoon and walked over to the smaller boy. He lifted his chin and kissed his forehead softly, “morning Lou…” Louis felt his whole face go red. Harry went back to stirring the gooey substance in the pot. “How’d you sleep boo?” Louis shrugged and tried to ignore the pet name. “Good…” Harry smiled, “that’s great love. I’m glad. I’m making some breakfast, you can take a seat.” Harry grabbed his oven mits as Louis took a seat on the small table inside the large kitchen. Louis tried his best to keep the ends of the sweater sleeves up.