Larry Stylinson - Turning From Praise (AU)

19.-PART 2

Sleeping was nice. Louis liked sleep. Whilst he was asleep, curled up with one of Harry’s decorated arms draped over him, often dreaming of soft dark curves and lilting patterns that were the last thing he saw in the darkness before he dozed off, he was quiet and relaxed. However, when Anne’s soft knock on the door brought him back to the surface of consciousness, and he shifted into Harry’s chest with a sleepy groan only to realize that they were meant to be going to church today. His stomach immediately knotted up with tension, as if the vines tattooed on Harry’s arm had snaked around his intestines and started squeezing like a thorny boa constrictor.

He must have stiffened involuntarily, because Harry breathed out, sniffed, and opened one sleep-blurred eye, the kind of misty, vague green of dew-covered grass. Lifting his head so that several locks of hair fell over his eye, he gave Louis a reassuringly dopey grin and then slowly trailed his fingertips from Louis’ shoulder to his elbow, then his wrist, then interlocked their fingers.

Without saying a word, Harry had instantly cheered him up. Louis slipped out of bed and went on the hunt for some church-appropriate clothes, finding a not-too-badly-creased pair of black trousers (his) draped over the back of a chair and a white shirt (also his) hanging outside the wardrobe, and a black jacket that could have belonged to either of them. He was just knotting his tie, fumbling slightly since it’d been several weeks since he’d last worn one, when he looked up to see Harry fastening a blazer on over a charcoal grey shirt, his outlined eyes emphasized by the dark material, but in a different way than his usual flat black and silver ensembles. Surprised, Louis stopped to watch him. He’d assumed that Harry would keep his usual style just to make a point.

Sensing eyes on him, Harry turned and shot him a smile. “Can’t take your eyes off me, huh?”

“You look good,” Louis said quietly.

Harry’s smile softened, lips forming an even gentler sloping curve. “Thanks,” he replied, and then he walked across the room, looked Louis up and down, pursed his lips and ‘hmm’ed.

“Hmm?”

“Hmm,” Harry agreed, “I like you in a tie. Twirl for me?”

Rolling his eyes, Louis good-naturedly spun in a circle, ending with a slightly mocking curtsey, and Harry made a great show of applauding him.

“You look great,” he announced, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a suit.”

“You,” Louis told him, appreciatively eying him up and down as he straightened his collar, “look really sexy. It’s actually very inappropriate to dress so provocatively for church. Shame on you.”

Harry grinned. “You’re such a flirt. Remember, I only look sexy to you.”

“That’s only because I’m the only one in the room with taste. May I have the pleasure of escorting you to the dining hall, Master Styles?” He offered Harry his arm with a grin and stage-whispered, “that means do you want to come down for breakfast?”

“Might do,” replied Harry, accepting it with an equally bright grin, and they descended downstairs, beaming like Cheshire cats.

                                                                  ~*~

By the time Anne’s car had pulled up outside the church, neither of them were laughing. Harry was chewing so hard on his lip ring that Louis was worried he might chip his teeth, and Louis was twisting his fingers agitatedly together and wishing they weren’t quite so sweaty. He peeked out at the array of people slowly milling into the church and found himself staring at a mock leopard-skin coat worn by an old woman, the print blurring weirdly since he was staring so hard at it.