Royalty (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter Four

Harry sleeps in Louis' room again, except this time he makes it to the bed on his own, falling asleep in Louis' arms. 

When he wakes up the next morning, Louis is still asleep. Harry takes that time to observe Louis, watching as his chest rises and falls, seeing how his eyelashes frame his eyes perfectly, fanning out over his cheekbones. Harry sees how relaxed he is, which is a huge contrast to how he appeared after that phone call the previous afternoon. He still wonders what that was about. He knows it isn't any of his business really, but he didn't like how upset it made Louis.

Harry's broken from his thoughts by the alarm clock, which Louis got someone to bring up to his room for Harry, beeping, letting Harry know it's time to begin his chores for the day. (He pleaded with Louis for a good 30 minutes to let him do his chores today before he finally agreed.) He quickly reaches over and turns the alarm clock off. Louis lets out a groan, before Harry feels his face pressing into the crook of his neck, his breath hitting his skin.

Harry carefully turns his head just enough to peek back at the vampire, seeing his eyes still shut, so Harry takes that time to ease out from between the vampire's arms, glad Louis' mattress doesn't squeak like his own. He makes it safely out of the bed, across the cold floor, to the bedroom door without waking Louis.

Harry spares one last glance back at the blue-eyed boy, seeing him now rolled over onto his stomach, his nose pressed into the pillow Harry slept on. He bites back a smile, forcing himself to turn and leave the room (he tries not to think about reasons of why it almost pains him to leave the vampire), making his way down the stairs and back to the servants' floor.

"Hey, Harold! There ya are, mate. Couldn't find you at all yesterday." A blonde, Irish boy, another servant and also a good friend of Harry's, greets Harry when he is almost to the door of his room.

Harry tenses up, a small amount of panic seizing him. As far as he remembers, Louis didn't tell him what reason he told everyone as to why he didn't do his chores yesterday. If he even told anybody a reason. "How are you today, Nialler?" He asks instead, hoping the blonde boy doesn't notice the lack of answer and subject change.

"Sleepy as fuck, man. I tell ya, I was asleep before my head even hit the pillow!" Niall replies. Then Niall proceeds to smack his hands together, sending a cloud of flour over the two boys.

"Thanks for that." Harry says, shaking his head and sending the flour that gathered in his hair onto either Niall or the floor, which causes Niall to whine out 'Hey! I'll have to clean that later!' with a pout on his lips.

"Hey mate, who's clothes are ya wearing?" Niall asks after a moment of silence, his eyebrows knitted together, all jokes aside. "And where were ya coming from?"

"Oh, uh. Hey, I've got to get my chores list and get started, but it was good seeing you, lad." Harry plants a wet kiss on the blond's cheek and walks into the room, ignoring the frown on his friend's face, going to the small dresser beside his bed.

He grabs the list of chores from the usual spot it's put on the top of the dresser, skimming through it quickly and finding he has very easy chores for today.

Harry is in the laundry room later that evening, folding the Prince's laundry, when there's a rush of air and suddenly said Prince is standing beside him, arms crossed over his chest. Harry jumps, clutching at his chest. "Jesus, Louis! You scared the hell out of me." He gasps out, closing his eyes while he regains his breath.

"Are you alright?" Louis asks, quickly walking over to the green eyed boy. He places one hand on Harry's hip, while the other he puts on top of Harry's own.