That's Love, Bitch (Larry au) *mpreg*

Thirty-Eight

the timeline of this story is all sorts of fucked up just go w it

also listen i was drunkenly listening to hamilton, as one does, and it's quiet uptown came on and i was imagining harry and jay from this story while listening to it so if u have not heard it i put it up there

"I'm so old."

"You are not old, Lou. You're twenty-two."

Louis gives Harry a pout, keeping his arms around Harry's waist as Harry stirs some sauce for something he's making. "I bet I'll start getting grey hairs soon. You'll have to wheel me around in a wheelchair because I'll be too old to walk."

"Shut up," Harry laughs, elbowing Louis a bit before turning around in his grip and kissing him. "Happy birthday, I love you."

"I love you too," Louis grins, pressing a kiss to Harry's forehead.

♛

Harry's first instinct when he wakes up is to turn to Louis and mumble a happy birthday. Louis will kiss his forehead and say thank you, and they'll cuddle until they hear a baby's cry and Harry has to get up.

But that doesn't happen. Harry turns to see Addison's cot, and his eyes move to the tan coloured walls of the guest room that he's been residing in since what he likes to call The Day His Life Ended.

Addison is still sleeping, which is a first. This is the first morning he hasn't woken up to a baby crying, or noise from the kitchen, or someone watching the telly downstairs. All of his friends are with their families for the holidays. They had all offered to stay with him, but he declined. He'd rather not be the reason his friends had to call their families and say that they couldn't make it home for Christmas.

Harry closes his eyes again, trying to remember how it felt to have Louis laying next to him. He can't, and it's scary.

He slowly sits up, leaning on shaky arms and running his fingers through his unruly curls. Addison makes a snuffling noise from the cot, so Harry reaches in and starts to gently brush her cheek with his knuckles, and she instantly relaxes.

Harry sighs, standing up from the bed and looking at himself in the mirror. He looks as shitty as he feels, really. His eyes are sunken in, the skin underneath them a deep purple. His cheeks have sunk in a bit too, his skin pale. Louis would hate to see him like this, Louis would hate all of this.

He walks out of the bedroom and looks up to the wall of the hallway, a picture of Louis on their wedding day looking right back at him. He sucks in a breath, Louis' bright smile and crinkly eyes shaking him to his core.

"Happy birthday, sunshine," He whispers. He then turns around and walks down the stairs, gripping onto the railing so his shaking legs don't cause him to collapse.

Harry goes to the kitchen and starts to make some coffee, Louis' tea still sitting right next to it in the cupboard. For the first time in a long time, he's alone. There's no children crying for his attention or friends doting on him. He's alone, sitting in the place he used to sit as Louis made him laugh so hard there'd be milk coming out of his nose.

His mobile goes off, and he reaches across the table to grab it. There's a text from Gemma, and Harry's surprised she's even up this time in the morning.

Gemma: Merry Christmas Eve x You going to Mum's later?

Harry: No, don't think I'm up for it today. I'm going to the Tomlinson's for Christmas.