Melody

7. tell me that i'll see you again

♫ tell me that i'll see you again

"so, kiss me kiss me kiss me
and tell me that i'll see you again
because i don't know
if i can let you go."
- kiss me kiss me, five seconds of summer, 2014

♫♪♫

Louis' car was small and had hardly any room in the front seat for Harry to stretch out his legs, but he didn't particularly mind. His brain was fuzzy from the drinks he'd had at the bar, and every now and then his vision would blur and his body would feel weak, but he'd recover within a few seconds and make an effort to sit up straight. All normal protocol, this was.

The Doncaster boy's house, well, Harry has to say that it perfectly reflected his car; small, cozy, and reeking of Louis' character. On the white walls, there were little paintings in neat, black frames, and when Harry asked about them Louis had said that his little sisters had drawn them especially for when he moved out of home, "to keep him company". Harry had laughed, knowing full well that his sister wouldn't do the same, and also he made a mental note to meet Louis' sisters one day. (They sounded like little balls of sunshine and fluffy pink things; a lot of fun, in other words.)

"No, no," Louis shook his head, disrupting his fringe slightly. They were sitting in his living room, Harry was holding the loan guitar he'd given Louis and sat on the coffee table opposite the lounge. "They aren't sunshine. They're annoying as all hell, trust me."

"Not even a little bit of sunshine?" Harry smiled.

"Not even slightly." Louis smirked back, and Harry knew from the tone of his voice that he was kidding and his sisters were probably amazing human beings, like Louis.

"We should probably do guitar now." Suggested Harry, not because he thought it was important. It just felt like the thing to say.

"Oh," Louis' seemingly endless smile faded a tiny amount, and got up to walk to his room. "I'm just going to go get the chord sheet you gave me, okay?"

"All right." Harry mumbled to nobody in particular, focusing his attention on Louis' house that was all around him. Harry had been told that a person's house was where they put their heart, and that said a lot about them, but this flat didn't seem right for Louis.

Harry knows that the framed drawings are definitely a part of Louis' personal history, but he's not really sure about the rest. The dining table in the room across from Harry (he could see it because the flat had an open living plan and there was just an archway from the lounge room to the kitchen/dining room) was messy with folders and papers and everything you could possibly think of that could be on the table, was on the table, and it didn't really seem like something Louis would do. Harry didn't know anything about Louis' personal habits, though, so he can't really guess.

"I've returned," announced the blue-eyed boy in question when he walked in through the hallway, holding a white sheet of paper in his hands. Well, mostly white. When Louis sat down on the lounge seat with Harry, letting the chord sheet fall splayed out on the coffee table, Harry noticed a large yellowish stain on one corner of the paper.

"I see you've kept that in good nick." Harry commented, nodding his head towards the sheet.

"Oh, right, yeah. Tea stains, that is." Louis explained and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, just as a blush started making itself known on his face. "I'm a very messy person, or so I've been reliably informed. Sorry about the flat, I hadn't really realized how fucking disgusting it was, God, let me just-," Louis practically jumped off the lounge seat and started to organise the CDs in his cabinet next to the television, which was opposite the sofa. His countless albums were all over the place, if Harry was honest; what with the discs lying out and the inner leaflet covers folded over the wrong CDs. He guessed that Louis suddenly fitted the flat's abstract sense of deco perfectly.