disconsolate || stylinson

chapter 2

sunlight peeked through the curtains and shone brightly in harry's eyes, causing him to groan loudly. he rolled over in his bed and buried his face in his pillow as a weak attempt to fall back asleep. a few minutes later after realizing his strategy wasn't going to work, harry finally stood up and began to get dressed.

checking the time on his phone, he noticed that it was almost 10. it was christmas day, yet harry decided he had nothing better to do than to work. slowly, he made his way to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee, trying to get himself into the christmas spirit.

after sipping down the last of his beverage, harry pushed in his chair at the counter and headed to the steps that lead down to his studio. his mood immediately brightened as he looked around, admiring the tons of photos hung around the walls and on displays. he casually strolled over to the door and unlocked it, flipping the closed sign to open.

harry stepped outside for a moment and a slight shiver ran down his spine due to the winter air. with one glance around at the barren streets, harry could definitely tell that it was christmas. lights were hung on almost every store and although the streets were devoid of people, cars were lining the curb. it was a perfect photo opt, and harry decided to go retrieve his camera. as he turned his back, he heard a bell jingle faintly. harry couldn't decide if it was a christmas bell or a bell on the door to a store, but either way it didn't matter to him.

harry reentered styles studios and made his way to the back of the shop, slipping his phone out of his pocket. he had several texts wishing him a merry christmas from niall and his family, and he quickly typed back the same as he dashed up the steps.

harry then ran to his bedroom and grabbed his camera off the nightstand. a rush of familiarity exceeded his body and he sighed a breath of relief. his camera felt like home in his hands. every ridge and button was perfect and harry loved it more than anything.

as harry returned to his shop, he gripped the handle of the back room confidently and swung open the door, not expecting what came next at all. a young man stood in harry's studio, sifting carefully through a pile of photos near the door. harry immediately stopped in his tracks and inhaled sharply, his heart clenching tightly in his chest. his first reaction was to scream and cry, but over the years harry had learned it was in his best interest to take deep breaths in order to calm himself down.

harry could only see the back of the man's head, but it was enough. he didn't need to see the boy's face to know who it was. he had run his fingers through that light brown hair too many times. harry had wrapped his arms around that small boy's frame day after day, and could tell you every single curve of his beautiful body. he could tell you what every single tattoo meant and the significance of each one.

"louis." harry choked out, his heart shattering all over again. the man turned around at the sound of his name and harry felt a shooting pain rip through his chest. tears burned in the back of his eyes but harry willed them away, knowing that if they started, they would never stop.

louis looked exactly the same, yet so different. his shining blue eyes were brighter than ever, and his cheekbones shaped his face flawlessly. he was still shorter than harry, two inches shorter to be exact, but he was so much more muscular. just like harry, he had grown up. stubble poked through around his chin and dark shadows rested under his eyes, revealing his true age.

"harry." louis spoke clearly, his posture straightening. he hesitantly began to walk towards harry, and it immediately triggered something inside him.

"what the hell are you doing here?" harry snarled, anger suddenly coursing through his veins.

"i-i was just going for a walk and i stumbled across this shop, i-i didn't know it was yours." louis stuttered, seeming unsure of himself. his earlier image of confidence had began to fade and he was shrinking back into himself.