A Thousand City Lights ➳ l.s

Chapter ➳ 8

This is a little short compared to my other chapters and not really good, but you guys needed an update so I just typed up some words as fast as I could. I hope this is okay. Next chapter will be better and up faster! Thank you.

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Song: Afire Love - Ed Sheeran

The grass is mildew-y in the morning. A small chill comes through the open window, causing Louis to pull the blankets tighter around his small frame.

He lays there, staring out the window. Across the street, a girl is unlocking a store for opening. He can't see her face, but by the way her shoulders are slugged forward and how slow she's walking, Louis can tell she's tired and drained.

After a moment of staring out the window, Louis' attention gets sidetracked when a small stir comes from the opposite side of the bed. Louis shifts so that he's laying on his right side, facing Harry who sleeps soundlessly next to him.

Louis takes a minute or two to absorb everything that is Harry. He notices how Harry's lips are slightly parted as he sleeps, his lips pink and glossy. His eyelashes resting neatly on the tips of his rosy cheeks.

Louis can't help himself; taking his hand, slowly and gently, and resting it on Harry's cheek. He rubs his thumb right over the bone, the sudden movement and touch making Harry's lip twitch into a small smile until he opens one eye.

"Mornin'." Louis says, grinning at him.

Harry grunts, closing his eye again for a brief moment before opening both eyes and smiling. "We have a plane to catch." he says, his voice groggy and deep.

Louis scrunches his eyebrows and removes his hand from Harry's face. "A plane?" he asks.

Harry nods, sitting up and pushing the blankets back. "Yep," he says, standing up and stretching his arms up towards the ceiling. A small popping noise comes from his back and Louis flinches. "Don't act so surprised. I told you we weren't staying here long."

Louis sits up as well, but stays in the bed, too cold and tired to get up. "Well, yeah," he says slowly, "but I didn't know we were getting on a plane."

Harry has moved across the room, crouching down at his suitcase. He rummages through it, then finally pulls out a pair of sweatpants and a black tee shirt.

"Yep." he says again.

Louis watches as Harry pulls out two passports. Harry, smirking, throws the passport with Louis' name onto his lap.

"Get ready, love. We're going to Paris."

➳

"Bloody hell!"

"Calm down, Louis. We have plenty of time." Harry explains, squeezing Louis' shoulder as he rubs his forehead, frustrated.

"No we don't, Harold." Louis snaps and the sudden outburst makes Harry remove his hand from his shoulder but still contain his normal expression. "I don't know what the hell we're doing!" he shouts, throwing his hands in the air for emphasis.

"Just trust me, Lou." Harry murmurs, quietly, trying to sooth Louis with his own voice. It doesn't seem to work however; Louis rolls his eyes and turns around, walking in the opposite direction as Harry would like him to go. "Where are you going?" Harry asks.

"Away." Louis says, creating distance between him and Harry. Farther and farther Louis walks, yet Harry stays right where he's at. He watches Louis' figure get tinier and tinier until he can't anymore.

In Harry's mind, he didn't think this would be such a big deal to Louis. But it is and he's not quiet sure how to carry on. Of course, Louis plays a big part in Harry's book. He's very well needed. But what are you supposed to do when you've been quit on?