pretty please (with sugar on top) - larry stylinson

43

He didn't call.

Harry spent the first three days back in New York City staring at his phone. He was too exhausted to return to his normal schedule, so he awarded himself a few days off and stayed in his sparsely decorated studio apartment, ordering takeout when he was too lazy to go to the store for ingredients to make a real meal, and skipping the gym in favor of staying in bed until late morning each day.

Staying in bed didn't mean sleeping, though. He hardly got any sleep, even at night, feeling too keyed up to relax enough for some shuteye. He always started with his phone beneath his pillow, but every night without fail, he would inevitably pull it out to fiddle with the pastel pink phone case and wait for the screen to light up with an incoming call. By morning, his bleary eyes burned with lack of sleep and his body was aching and sore, clearly upset at him for failing to get much rest.

The only calls he received were from a few of his clingier sugar daddies, and he sent them straight to voicemail, feeling too unsettled inside to entertain them even for only a few minutes. His phone rang often, but the call was never from Louis.

Harry had no idea what was taking him so long to call. He expected him to at least leave a voicemail asking how he was holding up after his heat and if he'd gotten it sorted out with the doctor yet. He hadn't, because his appointment was set for a few weeks later, but that wasn't the point. The point was that Louis continued to remain radio silent, and Harry was slowly dying inside.

On the fifth day, while he was staring down at the sparkling ring gracing his finger, he decided to suck up his pride and message Louis first. If Louis didn't want to be the one to take charge after Harry had made himself very clear that he wanted him, then fine. Harry would get over himself and send one little message just to make it even more clear he was still interested.

thanks for the gifts, alpha :) 💓🌸

He debated capitalizing the 'a' but ultimately left it as it was, deciding to not go too overboard. The emojis were enough already. It was incredibly tempting to follow up with another text asking when he would be in New York, but Harry was determined to keep at least a bit of self-respect in tact and not seem as desperate as he actually was. He set his phone down on the bed and stared at it like it was going to light up with a response any minute now.

It didn't.

Harry stared for fifteen minutes before he got bored. He rolled out of bed and tried on a bunch of clothes Louis bought for him, posing in front of the large antique mirror and taking sexy selfies when necessary. He saved them to the folder on his phone specifically for this purpose and put on the lace kimono last. It felt familiar against his skin, bringing up memories of the last time he wore it and making him blush.

With the lace edging falling high up on his thighs, the marks Louis left all over his skin were visible. The bruises and gentle bite marks were fading, since it had been more than a full week since they were together. The more subtle they became, the more Harry mourned their loss. He ran his fingers over them as if to remember Louis touching him there, but it wasn't the same. His memory was poor and he couldn't even feel it anymore.

Harry felt so pretty in the kimono, though, he wore it around all day, finally getting around to unpacking his belongings and doing a bit of the cleaning he procrastinated before his trip to Florida. He made lunch for the entire week, tofu lettuce wraps that would be preserved in a tupperware container in the fridge. Then he sat there. And waited. And stared at the fading marks on his thighs, the ones Louis put there.

The lack of response was only partially expected.

He gave Louis the benefit of the doubt and a few days of buffer period, figuring he was probably busy at work. That was what it was. That was why he hadn't responded to Harry's cute and vaguely embarrassing text that made his heart beat rapidly whenever he thought about it. God, he was so stupid for sending that text. It made him look like the neediest, most childish omega. He should've toned back the emojis. He should've said anything but alpha. Suddenly he was cringing every time he thought of it, wishing he hadn't sent it, wishing Louis would just put him out of his misery even if it meant sending a text that said not interested in you, sorry. Even just leave me alone would've been better than not hearing anything from him at all. At least Harry would have an answer then, some sense of closure.