Louis awoke stiffly, and as soon as his sleep clouded mind cleared, he took note of how every muscle ached, and how his head seemed extremely heavy. His eyes hesitantly creaked open to be greeted with a blinding amount of light, and he recoiled, rubbing his eyes with a deep sigh. The whole night before was a blur, and he wasn’t even positive what had happened- had he just gone to bed- why did his whole body hurt?
And then he remembered. He tensed, his eyes widening as he realized he was not in his room. He held his breath, feeling a terror spike up his spine as he dared a glance beside him, to find the bed was empty.
What should have been relief, turned into terror. If he wasn’t here, where was he?
He shot up in bed, and found his discarded flannels and burst from the room, everything clicking; that when he had came into Harry’s room, he had stayed and obviously left the door unlocked. His stomach turned and he quickly walked down the narrow hall to the kitchen and living area.
The sight in his kitchen had him stop and his mouth hang open. Harry stood there, adorned in one of Louis’ aprons, leering over the stove cooking eggs. “What are you doing?” Louis cried out, tense and still horrified.
Harry looked over his shoulder, his lips pulling up into a wicked smile at the sight of the man. “Making eggs.” He returned his gaze back down to the simmering pan.
Louis still didn’t move, it was like his feet became lead, “Eggs?” His stomach rolled. “I didn’t… have any eggs.”
Harry looked back at him again with a little glint in his eyes and a condescending smile, “Well of course I went out to get some, silly little prick.”
His head went dizzy and his hand flew to his mouth, his stomach turning.
“You live 5 minutes away from the market, Louis. I didn’t take your car or anything, I’m not that reckless.” He grinned even further, before removing the pan from the burner and shuffling across the kitchen.
Louis had literally allowed a rapist and murderer to roam the streets of London. He squeezed his eyes shut at the thought of what would have happened if he had happened to get his hands on someone- Louis would have gone down with him.
“Y-You can’t do that, Harry,” he choked out, “I have to go with you everywhere.”
Harry frowned as he placed the rather delicious smelling eggs onto separate plates. “I didn’t want to wake you, you look so pretty even when you sleep, Lou.” He simpered.
Another nervous pitch of Louis’ stomach. He tried to mask his unnerved demeanor, “Did you sleep well?”
“Oh very well,” He walked over with two bowls balanced in the palms of his hands, and Louis couldn’t help but think of how domestic he looked; his messy curls were illuminated by the feeble rays of morning light seeping through the living room window, and his dimples were poking through his milky cheeks, eyes filled with some sort of wicked adoration. He leered down to press a seemingly sweet kiss to Louis’ nose, which had his cheeks blooming with a dangerous shade of red. “Watched you sleep for a while, you cried a lot.”
And instantly, the highschool girl flustered feeling Louis had vanished and he blinked, fidgeting with the rim of the bowl he now held. He decided not to comment on that observation, and just made his way to the table that Harry had sat himself at.
Until now he hadn’t realized how last nights happenings had effected the way he walked so drastically, and he winced as he sat down, which Harry noticed and smiled so big that Louis thought his face might split in half.
“I see you’re coping well.” Harry commented between mouthfulls of egg. Louis shook his head, not wanting to think about last night at all- from fear of breaking down or getting turned on.
