Animal

Chapter 18

When you love someone, truly love them, you lay your heart open to them. You give them a part of yourself that you give to no one else, and you let them inside a part of you that only they can hurt-you literally hand them the razor with a map of where to cut deepest and most painfully on your heart and soul.

*NARRATOR'S POV*

Friday came around when Chicago decided to have its worst possible weather session. It's been storming for the past seventy-three hours and forecasts predicted hail for Friday night.

Harry's had two appointments with Dr. Hepburn thus far regarding the care of his lesser operating arm, and seems to admire her professional attitude which makes Louis proud to know he's trying hard enough. Harry tended to shove people out whenever they tried to ask a question about himself and it was never a good thing to have Harry dislike you.

Louis and Harry had a nice little routine going and neither could complain about the overload of simplicity because both appreciated the plain regimine as opposed to something untimely and uncoordinated. It was domestic and fine-tuned even though it's only been in play for two or three days.

Outside the storm goes on, heavy droplets of rain colliding loudly with the apartment's glass walls. It was a real task getting Louis to fall asleep with all that noise for these past nights, but Harry could sleep with any amount of noise.

"Shh, princess." Harry had his eyes closed already. "It's a storm."

"It's loud, Hazza." Louis complained, ducking under Harry's able arm and nuzzling his chest.

"Does it bother you?"

Louis nods, his face still hidden in the crook of Harry's shoulder and the pillow. He whimpers when a crack of thunder whips out close to them and the room is lit up for just a moment.

"I don't like it, Hazza." Louis sought comfort by sniffling and pawing at the man's chest.

"I can't control the weather, baby." Harry truly regretted that he couldn't. "Want me to distract you?"

He slides his arm under Louis' pillow and keeps the other limp against his chest with Louis' smaller palm holding his wrist. Ensuring that Louis' right ear is smothered by the pillow, Harry brings his lips closer to the other and kisses the spot that always made Louis turn pink.
Harry fell asleep after the storm's hype was over, after singing as many songs he had memorised to Louis in a soft whisper.

It is now the early hour of eight when Harry's digital alarm clock goes off on his side of the - their - bed and the news reports come on. He's become complacent and fallen into a comfortable life with Louis and the growing Bean bump the boy possesses.

"I'm up." Louis mumbles as he always does every morning, but hides further beneath the covers.

"It's your turn to make breakfast, baby." Harry's injured arm has grown weak and he hates that he can't feel the muscle strain as he wraps it around Louis' body.

"I know." Louis yawns, covering his mouth, and blinks away his tiredness.

Harry always found it perculiar that Louis went to bed smelling of shower gel but woke up filled with a subtle flowery scent. It was something that made Harry want to cave and just bury himself in Louis' petite, sweet body.

"Morning."

"Hmm." Harry groggily replies.

Harry's eyes were mesmerising first thing in the morning. Bright green and alight with innocence just like what Louis' blue orbs looked like every day.

"Wake up." Louis nudges Harry's arm weakly.

"How's my baby?" Harry sniffed and shuffled along the bed until he dropped his face on Louis' tummy.