This Feels A Lot Like Love

8. Color Me With Kisses, Baby

Louis visited Harry late Tuesday night.

Harry was swaddled in too hot blankets and used tissues, his eyes puffy and red and his lips wet with tears. He was watching Love Actually for the fourth time, binge watching romantic comedies to have an excuse to cry over the broken splinters of his glass heart. He blew out his nostrils, wiping his nose with the back of his hand and drowning in his own pity and tears. Just a typical Tuesday night.

The doorbell rang, but Harry was too enraptured in the film to begrudgingly get up and answer it. Anne shook her head at Harry and went to grab the door. She opened it to reveal Louis dressed down in a comfortable looking jumper and baggie track bottoms. Louis had a beanie pulled over his ears and was shouldering a backpack as well. He was toeing the welcome home mat on the floor, looking up at Anne with a sheepish smile.

"Louis," Anne greeted with a warm smile. "What brings you here? Are you staying for the night?"

"Ah, no," Louis answered, his sharp teeth snagging on his lower lip. "I just came by to visit Harry. Is he home?"

"Yes, yes, come in. He's in the living room."

Anne swung the door open wider and allowed Louis to walk inside, Louis toeing off his Adidas trainers by the door.

"Thank you, Mrs. Styles," Louis answered politely.

"No problem and, please, call me Anne."

"Thank you, Mrs. Anne."

"What a charmer." Anne pinched Louis' cheek and walked to the living room, placing a hand on the doorframe. "Honey, dear, Louis' here to see you."

"Very funny, mum," Harry sniffled.

Anne smiled with sparkling eyes towards Louis. She closed her mouth with a press of her fingertips, her smile curling up into a sly smirk.

"I'll leave you two to chat," Anne whispered kindly.

Anne patted Louis' back and left him alone. Louis watched Anne walk away, feeling breathless. His eyes traced over to Harry who was burrowed in a cocoon of blankets with only his curly hair visible.

Louis chuckled to himself and walked closer. He poked Harry's head through the dark blue blanket. Harry startled, looking up at Louis with wide, surprised eyes. He gaped, fish-mouthing at him while colors washed over his soft features.

"Lou—Louis, what are you doing here?"

"Your mum let me in." Louis thumbed behind himself, tilting his head to the right. "She told you I was here just a minute ago?"

"Oh, right." Harry cleared his throat awkwardly, pressing himself to the opposite end of the couch and leaving a sizable amount of space between them. "Sorry. Sit down."

Louis sat down tentatively. He scrunched his nose at the used tissues sprinkled everywhere. He picked one up and flicked it away to land on the coffee table.

"Sorry about that," Harry murmured, a blush coating his cheeks.

Harry went to gather the used tissues and threw them inside the wastebasket. Louis eyed Harry carefully. He noticed Harry's wet eyes, his red, blotchy cheeks and crimson, bitten lips.

"Watching Love Actually again?" Louis teased, his eyes all too knowing.

Harry flicked off the television, wiping his hand on his runny nose again.

"Yeah," Harry said wobbly, licking his lips. "How'd you know?"

Louis pursued his lips in silent amusement. "'Cause you always cry when you watch it."