Not So Simple

Chapter Eight

Six Months Later

Louis smiles into his pillow, perfectly enjoying being able to stretch out and do nothing for the time being. He's been particularly exhausted lately, seeing how it's almost Christmas and he's had to do all his shopping recently. Plus he has a large family, so it'd taken more than just a few days. It'd taken weeks. His intent is to close his eyes and go back to sleep, but that's interrupted by a soft voice whispering in his ear and sending chills down his back.

"Happy birthday, Boo," Harry says and Louis' eyebrows scrunch together. It's his birthday already? He hadn't even been paying the slightest attention. Maybe Harry's pulling his leg.

"Shuttup Harry. Lemme sleep." He mumbles, weakly trying to punch at Harry's chest in a way that will get him off the bed. Louis' eyes remain closed as he buries his face deeper into his pillow. When he feels the bed shift, he figures Harry is getting up and will leave him to continue his slumbers.

He should've known better.

Long arms wrap around his torso, cosseting him in his arms. "But it's time to wake up," Harry's warm breath fans over Louis' face, and Louis smiles contentedly, opening his eyes slowly but surely. He's met with Harry's beautiful green ones, and automatically his breath catches in his throat just like it always does when he sees those eyes. That's one thing that will never change.

"I don't want to," he argues childishly, resisting the urge to stick his tongue out at Harry. Their faces are too close to the others anyway.

Harry chuckles, shaking his head. "Well you have to," and with that, he's crawling out of bed and leaving Louis a lot colder than he had been a few seconds ago. He grunts, also getting out of bed and tackling Harry in a hug. The warmth he'd been feeling reappears, pleasantly so.

"Lou, what're you doing?" Harry asks amusedly, but he sounds fond, too.

"You feel good," Louis says as way of explanation, clinging onto his boyfriend like he never wants to let go. Harry backs away just enough to give him a kiss to the lips and instead of warmth filling Louis up, it's full out fire now, all thanks to Harry.

Louis' the one to break the kiss, leaning his head against Harry's. "Is it really my birthday? The days have all sort of been meshing together lately."

Harry smiles. "Yeah, it is. I thought you knew that."

That means today is Christmas Eve, and what that means is they need to get into the kitchen and fix their families (who will be at the flat later tonight, no doubt) Christmas cookies. It's a tradition, really. Last year, they hadn't been able to spend Christmas together, since Harry had went to Cheshire and Louis to Doncaster. But whenever they were both at the flat for the holidays, Harry would bake cookies and Louis would try his best to help, but always somehow managed to eat more than he cooked. It wasn't his fault cookie dough tasted ten times better than the actual cookie.

"We need to get cooking, then!" Louis declares, putting on a warm white jumper that must be Harry's (it smells delightfully like him) and going downstairs to the kitchen. Harry follows him, humming Christmas songs just loud enough that Louis can hear.

Once they're both in the kitchen and have all the utensils they need, they take to singing Christmas carols, dancing around the kitchen and grinning goofily at the other. On more than one occasion Louis nearly burns a batch of cookies, but Harry's there to remind him when they should be removed from the oven. From prior experiences, they know to cook at least four batches of different cookies, because they've found out their families and friends prefer a different variety each year. They're terribly picky, to be honest.

Chocolate chip, sugar, chocolate, and peanut butter cookies is what they decided on when they went to the store, and they sincerely hope those kinds are alright with their families.