Baby Boy ✧ Larry Stylinson

Chapter 38 - advice from nail

Harry wakes up with a loud grunt, eyebrows furrowed when he feels emptiness beside him. He was kind of expecting (and partially hoping) Louis would sneak in during the middle of the night and sleep with him because he couldn't do it with just a pillow by his side. But no. Louis left Harry alone in the guest bed where it was cold and lonely.

Harry gets off the unnecessarily large bed, his bare feet meeting with the cold, hard wood ground, causing shivers to go up his spine. He pads across the room and stops in front of a full body mirror, looking at himself and internally cringing. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, redness around them. There were dried tears sticking to his cheeks and his skin was a little pale, the only tint of pink visible on his whole body was from his pretty lips and acne he managed to get on his face.

He didn't want to be selfish and blame this all on Louis when this was partially his fault too. Harry could've just told Louis he wanted to get married, could've just told him that he couldn't imagine a life without him — but instead he chose to drop little hints that pranced around Louis' head, mocking him because he didn't understand what was going on.

He sighs, closing his eyes and bringing a hand up to his face, immediately cringing and bringing it down to his side because he felt a lot of oil. Harry decides that before he went down stairs, possibly to find Louis so they could talk about all of this, he would go to the bathroom and wash his face. Actually, his whole body.

When Harry is done, he walks out of the bathroom and changes into warm pieces of clothing. His body was shaking because the house was too cold at the moment — especially if he just showered. Before Harry goes down to the kitchen where he hears Louis talking to someone, he makes sure to look in the mirror, groaning and poking at his pimples. They weren't huge but they were visible.

The green eyed boy walks down the steps of the stairs, stopping in his tracks when he's at the end of it because Louis comes to his view. Louis was leaning against the kitchen countertop, eyes closed as the minimal about of sunlight from the gloomy weather hit his tan skin. His eyelashes were resting against his cheek bones, lips set in a thin line and Harry just wanted to bite them.

Harry studied Louis for a while before clearing his throat to make his presence known, a blank expression on his face when Louis tries to smile at him. "Baby, I want to talk about yesterday." The smaller man speaks up in the silent room, his fingers grasping the edge of the countertop that was behind him hard. "Please, sit down." He points to a chair that was in the middle of the kitchen — and preferably in his eye sight.

Harry opens his mouth to protest, but ends up shutting it. He didn't want to make this an even larger mess. Harry walks over to the chair and sits down, looking up at Louis with his bottom lip sucked in his mouth. "Okay, talk." He commands, not even bothering to apologize when Louis raises an eyebrow.

"Princess," Louis pauses, taking his body wait off the counter top and moving towards Harry who is fidgeting in his seat. "What was that all about? Is there something you want to tell me?" He crouches down, cautiously reaching out a hand to cup Harry cheek, to which the boy flinched. Harry wanted to say yes, that he wanted to marry him so badly that he didn't even care if he was the one to ask Louis — but instead he shook his head, averting his eyes to the floor.

"N—nothing at all." Harry mentally curses himself for stuttering. He looks at Louis' eyes, suddenly drawn in from the intensity of the blueness, but forces himself to look away. "I just wanted to go to the shop and find some small pieces of jewelry . . . I'm sorry, daddy." He didn't want to forgive Louis too easily like he usually does, but then he also just wants to crawl in his arms and cuddle.