Capernoited
(adj.) peevish; tipsy or intoxicated
"Why?" Niall asks. "What suddenly made you decide to do that?"
Harry flinches as the memory takes over.
Louis Is drunk, more than drunk, pickled as Harry liked to say. Harry pulls the stumbling boy closer to his side as he tries to walk Louis the small distance from the pub to the awaiting taxi. He waves good bye to the rest of the boys, who were doing not much better than Louis at walking in a straight line, and calls a goodnight before checking Louis is steady on his feet, taking his arm back from around Louis waist and opening the car door. Louis only stays upright for a minute and ends up stumbling over his own feet and catching the back of the taxi for support. Harry laughs, finding the whole situation rather amusing. Louis never drinks this much.
"Jesus Lou, can you even see straight?" He laughs.
"Oh course I can Hazzabear!" Louis slurs. "Just a bit clumsy tha-" he trails off with a frown on his face. He's looking at Harry who seems to have two heads and blinking rapidly trying to get him to return normal.
Harry smirks. Louis never calls him "Hazzabear" unless they are on there own or he wants to wind Harry up.
"You sure about that?" He says, not convinced at all. Louis nods and Harry helps him into the car before shutting the door and walking around to the other side. He slides in next to Louis in the back seat because he knows that there is no chance that Louis would be able to put his seatbelt on. Harry clicks his own seatbelt on easily, he didn't drink too much and just feels sort of buzzed. He watches Louis, who is being unusually quiet especially as he was this drunk, fumble with his for a while before reaching out and clicking it in for him. Harry gives the driver the address and sees that the picture on his identity card is of the man playing golf. They fall into an easy conversation about the sport and Harry is in mid sentence when Louis interrupts.
"Haz?" He asks shifting closer to him and looking at him with a puzzled expression.
Harry immediately stops talking when Louis speaks, he had been very quite for most of the journey which wasn't like Louis at all.
"Yeah?" He asks putting his arm around the smaller boy. Louis snuggles into his side and sighs.
"Nothing" he says.
Harry frowns but shrugs it off and carries on his conversation with the driver. When they arrive, Harry pays the man and by the time he gets out, Louis has managed to get his seatbelt off and open the car door. Harry rushes round to help him but it's too late and Louis falls up the kerb. Harry laughs at him and helps him to his feet. Louis looks up at the night sky and he's thoughtful, pensive. He grins, this happy excited look on his face.
"Promise me something?" He pauses and Harry makes an affirmative sound. "Will you catch me one?" he says, returning his gaze to Harry's face.
Harry blinks down at him, furrowing is eyebrows, confused as hell.
"Catch you what, Boo?" He asks and he gets away with the nickname due to Louis' drunken state.
Louis laughs like it's the most obvious thing ever, lifting an arm and pointing at the stars above them.
"Will you catch me a star?" Louis requests, one hand spread across Harry's chest to keep himself from falling, and Harry wonders if the other boy can feel how fast his heart is beating.
Really, in all honesty Harry doesn't quite fully understand Louis' request, doesn't get how he was supposed to catch a star for the beautiful boy. But Harry knows he could never say no to Louis. No matter what, Harry will do whatever Louis wants him to.
