at last (h.s. + l.t.) (boyxboy)

7. Heart Shaped Box

Any normal person would probably be asleep at 8 a.m. on a Saturday morning. But, Harry and Louis weren't normal.

They were giddily spreading down the dark blue tarp across the hardwood floor as they listened to Lana Del Rey and shared soft pecks on the lips.

Louis helped Harry open the tins of paint and stir them with the sticks that came with them.

"You know," Harry said to the boy he meet some odd, hell, he can't remember how many weeks ago. "Im glad I met you."

Louis lifted his head from his previous position and smiled at his curly haired- um, lover? He hummed for him to continue. Louis has always loved the raspiness in Harrys voice, even for his age he looked and sounded older than the 19 year old.

"I just-" He paused, pursing two pink tinted lips together whilst formulating the correct way to express his feelings.

"It's just that I feel like myself when im with you. Like, all the odd little pieces of myself that I could never figure out are solved and a feeling comes over me when i see you look at me like you do, it feels like warmth and safety and i know im young but-" He looks at Louis with adoration ignited into his soft eyes.

"It feels like i can do anything with you. And i love it." His eyes light up and he wants to kiss him so, Louis walks over and nudges his head to the right with his own. Their lips connect and both boys swear that they've never felt anything that beautiful.

"Harry, i swear if you keep talking to me like that, i may fall in love with you." Louis says, placing a tender kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"Maybe that wouldnt be such a bad thing."

-

So, there now jamming to some stellar Arctic Monkeys track and laughed as they stick their hands into the cans of paint and sling it across the wall.

"Very therapeutic," Harry comments as little red splashed patters cover some of the exposed white color.

"Indeed." See, the thing with their relationship- if it can be called one- is that neither of them expect anything.

They both know where they stand at that exact moment and each of them are content. Harry wouldn't mind being more with Lou, and Louis wants to be the first thing Harry thinks of when he wakes up.

But its just the little things.

"Mmm," Louis stands back, his right arm rested on his hip. He's contemplating what move they should take next, or to stop. The wall looks marvelous, like some artist broke into the 19 year olds flat and vandalized it in the most glorious way.

"It looks lovely." He says.

A little knock was placed on to the door at time time. "Lou? Mate, is this your flat- fuck. Goddamn bloody phone!" A voice called, muffled behind the thick door.

"Hold on!" The boy called, whipping his hands on his shirt before (extremely) carefully opening the door.

"Zayn!" Lou called, his smile wid in a way that was genuine and positive. The two pull into a hug, and Harry decides that its his time to leave the room.

{suggestions?}