Not Again? || l.s

t w e n t y - t w o

twenty-two | back to square one

i made it out alive
a couple bruises fading
and so i cover up
and wear a smiley face

~ 'didn't you know' by karmin

ツ

While the break was nice, it's just that: a break. Eventually, he had to pack up and head back to school, but he's not dreading it as much as he thought he would. In fact, there's a small part of him, no matter how much he denied it, that's... looking forward to it. Not just getting back to class, or seeing Liam and Zayn. There's a part of him that couldn't wait to get back to his room. To flop onto his bed and maybe find Louis on his own.

His room was empty when he got there, though. Louis hadn't been back yet, apparently, because there's a staleness in the air that said it hasn't been touched in days. Harry flicked on the light, tossed his bag onto the bed, and cracked the window open with effort. The snow on the ledge and the ice on the glass made it difficult, but he managed to get it open an inch or two, and he left it like that, even if the air that drifted through was freezing. He'd shut it later.

Liam and Zayn weren't getting back until later tonight, so Harry busied himself with putting his stuff away, and then he went about cleaning the room, even Louis' side. The guy across the hall, Fionn, had a broom that Harry borrowed, and he swept under both beds —finding a few questionable things under Louis'— and then he made both of them again because Louis didn't make his bed right, and it still looked messy. 

He gathered up all the extra pens and pencils he'd found under Louis' bed, some of them his own, some not. He's pretty sure he's never actually seen Louis touch a pencil or pen, so it's a bit confusing to find that many loose around the room when they're not his own, but whatever.

He opened the bottom drawer of the desk, going to put the pencils and pens in the pencil case, but he stopped when he found a wrapped present inside, in Christmas paper. It's not very big, and the wrapping job was horrendous. He almost slammed the drawer shut, because this was such an invasion of privacy, but then his eyes landed on the little sticker at the top with Harry scribbled on it.

Carefully, Harry pulled it out, dropping the pens and pencils loosely into the drawer. He nudged it shut with his foot and sunk onto Louis' bed, looking down at the package in his hands. Experimentally, he shook it. Nothing happened. It felt like plastic, possibly, underneath the wrapping paper. And it got weirdly bulbous in some spots.

Louis bought him a gift. Louis got him a Christmas present. Fuck.

Harry didn't know what to do with that information. He couldn't figure out why Louis would do that because, from what Harry knew, Louis didn't like him. But apparently, he did, enough to get him a gift. Harry hadn't even considered getting Louis one, not even for his birthday. Did that make him an ass? 

No, he didn't think so. This was so out of the blue, he never could have seen it coming. In fact, if he wasn't holding the present right at this moment, he wouldn't believe it.

The door to the room opened, and Harry looked up sharply. Louis stepped inside, duffel bag slung over one shoulder. His eyes slowly fell to the present in Harry's hand, and he dropped the bag with a thump, crossing the room in seconds with a pained expression. He tugged it out of Harry's fingertips, heat rising to his cheeks.

"Is that— did you really get me something?" Harry asked, wide-eyed and flustered, too shocked to school that tone in his voice.

"No," Louis spat as his face went from a mask of embarrassment to one of anger. "You always tell me not to go through your shit. Don't go through mine."