Timeless - A Larry Stylinson FanFiction

Chapter 13

If Louis was surprised or frightened to know that Harry knew his full name, he certainly was very good at hiding such emotion. It wasn’t that Harry wanted to inflict fear on this man, certainly not, he wanted him to feel comfortable in his presence yet he just had a funny way of letting him know.

“Yes,” Louis said with a chuckle. “That’s my name. Have you got one?”

“Have I got what, sir?” Harry asked, moving closer to the bed.

“Have you got a name?” Louis said, propping himself up slowly onto his tattered taupe pillow. “And for Christ’s sake stop calling me sir.”

“My apologies,” Harry caught himself before calling him sir once more. “Most people call me Harry.”

“Most?” Louis asked with a lighthearted chuckle, to which Harry nodded.

“Yes, some call me Harold.”

“Well then, Harold,” Louis said, flicking his tongue over his bottom lip to catch a droplet of peppermint tea that had spilled. “I appreciate your benevolence, but I suppose you’d better be getting yourself back home. I’m sure you have a family just itching to be reunited with you.”

Harry looked down at the worn blue blanket Louis was draped in, observing the faded blue of the fabric, the intricate weaving slightly out of proportion meaning that it was not professionally tailored.

“Yes,” he said quietly to himself. “That would be the best thing for me to do. I hope you are alright here, now.”

“I’ll be fine, thank you,” Louis said as Harry turned around, collected his crate of milk bottles, bread and cheeses and turned to walk out the same door the rest of Louis’ family passed through not too long ago. The only thing they did differently, was refrain from turning back.

“Merry Christmas, Louis,” Harry said, looking back at Louis’ frail body in his bed, steaming tea in his fairy-like hands.

Louis smiled in return, and stopped him once more before he could be on his way.

“Harry?” he asked, to which Harry stopped in his tracks, right hand on the doorway, green eyes shining into Louis’ crystal clear and familiar blue ones.

“You’re the kid from the station.”

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded in response.

“I was positive I knew you from somewhere,” he continued, setting his mug on the wooden table next to his bed. “With eyes as bright as yours, I don’t think I could ever forget.”

Harry laughed, feeling his cheeks grow red as his eyes were once again put under the spotlight of yet another compliment.

“I get that a lot,” he said, realizing that he was still nodding and nervously stiffened his grip on the doorframe.

“As I’m sure you do,” Louis said, even quieter than his last remark. “Do they love you?”

“I’m sorry?” Harry questioned.

“Your family. They love you...correct?” Louis nearly whispered, his eyes becoming increasingly more blue by the second, if that was even possible.

“Why of course they do,” he said confidently. “That’s what family’s do. They love you to the end of time, no matter what may happen they’re always there at the end of the day to sort all of the bad from the good out of your life. Hasn’t yours?”

Louis paused a moment, grasping the fraying blue blanket in his fist, rubbing it gently back and forth with his thumb before answering.

“Yes,” he finally said. “They have.”