when we were eighteen - book one ✔️

Chapter Nine

LOUIS // NOVEMBER 2016

Louis woke in Harry's bed Monday morning, because he didn't want to Harry anymore nightmares. It had been four days since the Braxton Hicks contractions and the huge blow-up fight. They had been back to normal, just skirting around the issues that would lead into more fights.

Louis was getting agitated, they should just talk and get it over with. Just get everything out there. But he wasn't sure how to bring it up.

He had an interview in two hours at a grade school. This one Louis had hope for, they were looking for someone to take over for a teacher taking the second part of the off for maternity leave. Louis met all the qualifications and he just hoped they saw them.

He didn't want to get up just yet, Harry was curled into Louis morning. His curly-haired head was on his chest, fists up to his mouth like a baby. He looked so peaceful, he didn't want to disturb him.

He laid there with him for twenty minutes. He had to shower now or he risked being late. He carefully removed his body from Harry, putting a pillow as a replacement.

Louis got in the shower quickly, mainly just washing his hair and rubbing some soap under his armpits. He wrapped a towel around his waist and actually put an effort in his hair. He wished his sister Lottie was here, she could style hair like a professional. But today, he was by himself. He used the blow dryer and pushed all his hair off his face. With the help of some gel, he got it looking somewhat decent.

He went back into his room, pulling on a pair of black boxers. That's when there was a knock on the door. He looked over his shoulder as Harry peeked in.

"Oh! I'm sorry," Harry said, his tone embarrassed.

"Haz, it's just boxers. It's not like it was my bare arse, come back," Louis assured the pregnant boy.

Harry came into the room, sitting on the corner of the bed. He spoke, not looking at Louis. "You were gone and I thought I missed you before your interview."

"It's not for another hour, you caught me."

Louis had pulled on his cargo pants, and was going into between a blue button-up or a white polo shirt. Harry said, "Blue."

"Blue? Hm, I'm not so sure."

"Blue looks good on you, and it matches your eyes," Harry whispered. Louis trusted him and pulled on the shirt, tucking it into his pants. It looked good, he looked presentable.

"I like it," Louis said, smiling over Harry.

"I'm usually right."

The boys walked into the kitchen after Louis pulled on a disgusting pair of brown loafers. Whenever he wore these shoes, he felt old as fuck.

"Are you hungry?" Harry asked Louis, pulling out the toaster from the cabinet.

"Not really, I'm too nervous. I'm gonna leave in a few. Gotta make a good first impression," explained Louis, he laughed nervously as well. Harry's eyebrow quirked and he smiled fondly.

"I'm going to make you some toast, you should have something in your stomach."

Harry made Louis a bagel with cream cheese, and Louis devoured it. He was hungrier than he thought. As he got ready to leave, Harry handed him a key.