....................
H
They had been quiet the moment their eyes fluttered open mid-noon. It all leads to sleeping 'til noon when they get too comfortable of each other's warmth. They woke up in a tangle of ankles and limbs for the first time in a month.
Yet he felt so far away from him.
Harry felt like reaching out and asking Louis what's been bothering him but before he could utter a cheeky 'good morning' Louis was out of bed and making tea.
Not much were exchanged either, during brunch. But the way their bare feet caressed each other under the dining table proved they were still good.
By afternoon, when the both of them had showered, this time separately-- Harry sat on the couch to watch some crap telly, flipping from channel to channel 'til he found Peaky Blinders-- Louis' favorite. This should do, he thought.
But he just can't seem to pay attention to what's exactly happening on the show, since there seemed to be a commotion upstairs--Louis seemed to be having any trouble with his things. He lowered the volume.
"What you up to, Louis?" He asked as he directed his vision up the flight of stairs. Louis is either fixing his backpack or trying to look for something.
A few moments later, Louis huffed and summons Harry to come upstairs.
"Is there anything wrong?"
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L
Is there anything wrong? How bloody ironic, he thought.
Yes, there are a lot of wrongs to be right, Harold.
He's a second away from scoffing and giving Harry a crude remark yet he just stood up from where he was seated, rummaging through his things.
His eyes landed on the two cased instruments hidden underneath their desk, gathering dust. Numb was his face, and tense are his muscles but he felt his lips turn into a small smile. He further looked down to avoid Harry seeing this little reaction. Its either he's remembered Harry attempting to once do an underground one man show from the tube station in Amsterdam, or him teaching Harry the piano. Harry acted too stubborn learning, and so hard to teach when in fact Louis knows Harry memorised the piece by heart, he just wanted to get Louis to teach him over and over again and get him a bit riled up. If Louis hadn't walked in on Harry playing the piece by their bed one rainy morning in their bedroom in England, he would've thought Harry still hadn't learned the piece well. Louis knew Harry is just really good at acting.
"What time do you get off to work?" He stood in front of Harry as he looped his arms on the line of his hips. He can feel the love handles he's grown fond of, and it put him to ease.
Harry automatically looped his hands on the nape of Louis' neck merely lingering on the soft, damp pads of hair on the nape of his neck.
"By six. Which is, a mere two hours away. Why?"
The fact is, he needed to tell him they should leave the flat. Only for a week or two, yet there will be a thin chance Harry won't catch up to what he's exactly up to.
