Let's Roll- Larry Stylinson

Chapter XXVII

Their town square is quieter than Chicago. There aren't as many buildings either. Louis holds Harry's hand as they enter the tiny restaurant, a sign reading Comino's on the upper level. The few people inside turn their heads at the sight of ten men piling in, small whispers evading the room. Nervous, Louis' grip tightens, chest closing in on Harry's shoulder. Harry leads them to the long bar, taking every seat there. A waitress gives them the side-eye before she bustles over to them, notebook in hand. She plucks the pen from her ear, licking the tip to loosen the ink.

"What'll I get ya?" She rethinks her statement, counting the men waiting for her to take their orders. "You guys be needing separate checks?" Harry rejects her statement collectively.

"I'll be paying for them all. We'll take a plate each of your finest steaks with corn hash and green beans." He smiles at her, charming her with his bright green eyes. She blushes, giggling as she runs off to hand over the order to the chef.

Louis is more than a little mad by the action, slipping his hand out of Harry's. He doesn't like how the girl looked at him, how she lit up from one smile. It made him angry. He sneakily peeks over at the girl, her hips swaying as she refills a stranger's mug of coffee. She's doing it on purpose, because Harry's there and she thinks she has a chance.

It's not like he can be overtly angry. Harry probably has no idea what he's done. He probably flashes that killer smile at all the ladies, maybe even men, to get his way. Louis hasn't known him long enough to be sure, but he can imagine. He can conjure up lists of times when Harry slipped into that easy smile, made the girls swoon, made the fellas take a second look. Because he's just Harry that way, in how he can so easily be this charming devil and bring people to their knees. And it's something Louis admires about Harry, how he's so in control of his world, of his life. Louis could never be like that.

Harry's leg has managed to snake its way around Louis' ankle, Louis bringing his gaze back to Harry. "Are you okay? You seem upset." Harry's hand balances on the edge of his chair, brief brushes from his finger on his back. Louis finds it comforting.

"No, just thinking about how different it is here." It wasn't a lie, the atmosphere of this place was on his mind. It was quiet, dull in comparison to the place he once lived and the place he once visited. Its inhabitants were even less thrilling, the amount of them dwindled to a few families here and there and one or another couple. It was strange to be in a place like this, less flashy, less dazzling. Louis always associated Harry with those kinds of words and seeing him here brought out a different side to Harry, a human side. Harry wasn't as formal here, wasn't as concerned about his persona. He had no one to impress but his men and Louis suspects his men have already been enlightened on Harry's softer demeanor.

"Sometimes it's nice to be somewhere where the silence is. Noise can be annoying after it follows you around for too long. " Louis can vouch for that.

The girl scampers over with trays in her hands, the chef behind her with another two. "Soups on!" She calls, depositing a plate in front of every man. She lingers with Harry, flirtatiously leaning over to ask if he wanted anything else.

"We're fine for now." He didn't single in on her chest or her smile or her face. He was more focused on tugging at Louis' leg with his, bumping Louis a little closer to the man. She frowned as she departed, ponytail flying in her tangent.

Bellies full, Harry called for the check, paying in cash. The girl nearly had a stroke at the sight of all the dollar bills in his hand. It made her make another feeble attempt, biting her lip as she counted out his change. Harry still ignored her, hand fitting itself on Louis' back, under his coat. The second he pockets his change, they're all out the door, Harry never turning back. It pleases Louis, knowing she never got his attention, it was always on him. He grins.

No noise makes it hard for Louis to sleep. He's accustomed to the sound, to the continuous music of the motors on the road or the overly high chatter of the people walking by. Without it, the world seems less real, scary and abandoned, as if Louis were the only person alive. All he can hear is his own breathing and being conscious of his breathing feels odd, his thoughts charged with how long his pauses are in between breaths and counting how long it takes to fully exhale. The shadows in his room are adding to the anxiety of it all, tree branches resembling monsters of nightmares.

He shuts his eyes, willing sleep to come. It doesn't.

He tumbles into Harry's bed later in the night, Harry only having to secure him to his chest for him to fall asleep.