pretty please (with sugar on top) - larry stylinson

56

The next day, Harry spent the day by himself while Anne was at work. He went for a long drive, visiting his old haunts, letting the memories overwhelm him. He ate lunch at the diner and stayed there for a long time, almost all day, swirling his milkshake around in its glass with a cold metal spoon, not having much of an appetite. His stomach was a jumbled mess of stress and uncertainty, just as confused as he was. Afterward, he took a long walk out in the country to clear his mind.

It was inevitable, really, that he found himself later in the evening with his phone pressed against his ear, as he sat outside on the stairs leading up to the trailer, his back resting against the closed door. The thought of being the first one to crack was unappealing, but what was worse was the thought of not hearing from Louis at all. Besides, he had already thrown his dignity to the wind, the first time he cried over missing the alpha. There wasn't much to lose at this point. He just had to suck up his pride and hit the little phone icon staring up at him from the screen displaying Louis' contact information.

Harry reminded himself it was Louis who came running after him at the airport, not the other way around. Calling him tonight was in no way conceding to the chase. Louis still had a lot to apologize for, and there would be time for that. For now, Harry just wanted to hear his voice.

The phone rang for a long time, the connection finicky out here where the cell towers were sparse in the sprawling landscape. The jagged hitch of the call connecting surprised an inaudible gasp from him.

His voice crackled on the other end of the line, as if they were connected through old telephone wires strewn across the country from one locale to another. "Harry?"

"Hi."

"It's late," Louis breathed in a gentle exhale that again crackled over the phone in the kind of static that sent shivers down Harry's spine with the familiarity of it. His voice is so, so beautiful, Harry thought, stupidly. A rustling sound came from his end of the line, like sheets brushing up against each other, a kaleidoscope of noises.

"Oh... Sorry." The thought hadn't even occurred to him, but now that it was in his mind, he could visualize it perfectly: the alpha opening sleep-bleary eyes to the vibration of his mobile, wondering who it was. "Did I wake you? Shit."

Louis laughed, his voice sounding raspy and somehow warm, even so far away. "It's fine," he dismissed, putting Harry's mind at ease despite how rude it was to phone him so late at night without an explanation, without a reason. Vaguely he wondered if Louis always kept his phone switched on during the night, or if he had it on silent and only allowed calls from a few specific people to filter through, and if so, Harry was one of them, wasn't he, he had to be, right—

"So, why did you call?"

There was a beat of silence. The question did not necessitate considering, but rather a certain courage of spilling the truth. The energy between them was not, despite all odds, awkward, even though the last time they saw each other they had shared the most unexpected and passionate kiss Harry had ever experienced in his well-seasoned and adventurous lifetime of kissing alphas. The numbers were on his side yet somehow that one moment rose above the rest, unmatched. It was not awkward, despite the obvious tension that resulted from kissing and leaving, without explanation on either end, without closure.

Maybe Harry felt sheltered like this, so far away, hidden from everything but the sound of his own hushed voice and the wind that gusted around him. Maybe he felt comfortable because there was no fear of projecting his intense, overwhelming emotions via facial expressions or body language or god forbid pheromones, which would surely unveil the sheer potency of his desire in a mere flash of a millisecond and one casual inhale through the nose.