One For The Money (Two For The Show)

Part Two

When Louis wakes in the morning he takes a moment to bask in the memories of last night, and has to bury his face in his pillow, he's smiling so big his cheeks hurt, and his heart is racing in his chest.

Then he hears the clattering of plates downstairs and his smile falls. He takes a deep breath and climbs out of bed, makes no attempt to tame his hair before pulling on a hoodie and padding downstairs.

“Morning,” he says quietly, almost meek. His mother gives him a small smile, holds up the kettle. He nods, settles in a chair at the table and fiddles with his sleeves.

“Baby,” she says a moment later, and Louis can feel his eyes filling with tears, she hasn't even said anything, but there's a horrible tenseness to the air, and he hates it, he always has hated conflict. “You know I want the best for you.”

He nods, pressing his lips together, taking the tea she offers him with a watery smile. She sits opposite him, nudges their legs together.

“And as your mother, it's my responsibility to make sure you're safe,” she continues, and Louis doesn't like where this is going. She pauses for a moment, just looks at him. “What's Harry's last name?”

“S-styles,” he replies softly, can't help the way his voice trembles. Her face darkens considerably.

“I don't want you to see him anymore,” she says a moment later. And Louis was expecting this, somehow he just knew.

“W-why?” He asks, can barely lift his mug, his hands are shaking so hard. “Y-you liked him the o-other day. W-why do you s-suddenly hate him?” He hates the way he seems to whimper. He feels angry, strangely defensive over this man he knows hardly anything about.

“I changed my mind, okay?”

“No,” he whispers, “it's not okay. I-you can't tell me what to do any more. I'm 18, we're-I like him, mum, I really like him,” his voice breaks at the end of the sentence and then he's crying, ugly sobbing and tears and snot.

He shifts away when his mother reaches out to comfort him, he feels betrayed, can't wrap his head around the fact that, in the space of a night, she's gone from loving Harry, to hating him.

“Y-you c-can't,” he sobs.

“Listen, just--just....be safe, Boo,” she murmurs, briefly touches his hair then stands to go and get ready for work. Louis just sits at the table and cries, his tea going cold next to him.

~*~

Louis defy her wishes, obviously, and it’s only a month later Harry asks Louis to move in with him. Louis agrees, and his mum doesn't speak to him for a week.

“Mummy?” He asks softly, hovers nervously in the doorway. He can't bear this, the silence, the unease in the room, he just wants his mum.

He sees her soften a little, her shoulders slump in defeat, mouth turning down at the corners. This is his last night at home, Harry's arranged a van to pick up his belongings tomorrow. She’s still widely sceptical of this all, and Louis feels his heart pang at the thoughts of her doubting his decisions, but he stifles it to focus on the conversation at hand.