Nocturne in Silver and Blue

Epilogue

It's the third of August, the sun is shining unusually bright, and even though the Holmes Chapel railway station has no panel, Harry knows that in roughly two minutes the train will be here.

"Nine minutes," he hears his mum say, right on cue. Harry glances at her. She's looking at her watch, a tiny anxious crease between her eyebrows. Harry knows it's not the train schedule she's worried about.

"The train's always late anyway," he tells her. She looks up at him and the crease deepens. Harry sighs, but knows there's a fond smile edging its way onto his face. "I'm going to be okay, mum."

"I know that," she says, a little too quickly. Then, she drops the façade and sighs, deflating a bit. "I'm just worried about you. You know. Official job as a mum and all."

Harry does know.

"I'll be okay," he repeats, softer this time. She smiles at him. It's a steady enough smile, but Harry knows enough to tell that the worry hasn't eased one bit. There's not much Harry can do about it and he knows it, but it still makes him feel the slightest bit guilty.

Suddenly, there's warmth behind him and a pressure on his shoulder. Harry resists the urge to shiver with it. He lets his eyes flutter shut as Louis hooks his chin onto Harry's shoulder (Harry still hasn't gotten used to the fact that he's taller than Louis now; Louis's still a bit huffy about it) and rests a hand gently on Harry's waist. The heat from his skin soaks through Harry t-shirt. It makes Harry's stomach feel wonderfully airy.

"Back already, are we?" he mumbles. Louis pinches him in the side. Harry's eyes fly open and he squirms away from it, letting out a high-pitched noise Louis will most likely tease him about later. Harry turns around and grabs both of Louis's wrists. "Stop that," he tells him, like he's chastising a badly behaved puppy.

Louis just looks at him for a second, a sneaky smile spreading across his face, and Harry feels himself mirror it unconsciously.

Louis takes advantage of Harry's distraction to twist his wrists free. "The book club wasn't half as interesting as you said it would be," he tells Harry.

"Hey," Harry says. For a railway station book club, it's very cool. Harry doesn't even know of any other railway stations that have one. "It's the pride and joy of Holmes Chapel. Don't go around insulting it."

"Yeah, but I'm not gonna be staying here for much longer, am I?" Louis says. "I can do what I want now."

Yeah. Of course.

Louis must notice the expression on Harry's face change, because he drops the act in a moment. "Hey," he says. He touches Harry without hesitance, like the last two years haven't even happened. Harry's still not quite used to it, but that doesn't stop him from shifting into the touch. "You okay?" Louis asks him seriously. Harry blinks at him once and nods, more or less meaning it.

"It's just– a lot, you know?" It is a lot, because he's never known anything but Holmes Chapel, has he? This is where his entire life is rooted, this is all he has, and the thought of leaving it is enough to make Harry want to curl into a terrified little ball on the ground.

"I know," Louis says quietly. Harry looks at him. Of course he does. Holmes Chapel used to be all he knew too, quite literally everything he knew about the world, and he left it all behind on his own. If there's anyone who knows what this is like, it's Louis.

And– it's not true that everything Harry has is in Holmes Chapel. Louis is here. Louis is with him, and he's not going to leave. Harry could be facing the entire world and, as long as he had Louis with him, he'd feel tied down.

He doesn't quite know how to put the feeling into words, but Louis's still looking at him and as his thumb brushes over Harry's wrist, grounding him, Harry knows he understands.