i sleep naked ➸ larry stylinson

forty nine

"what is your definition of love?"

his voice was quiet, soft. not prying, just curious. 

their empty cans of red bull were numerous, sitting side by side on the desk next to the blue chair harry had grown incredibly attached to.

the night was late, the rain still pounding hard against the window and hiding the night, hiding the closed shops and empty streets. louis' legs were tangled with harry's, his burning skin causing heat to flow throughout his body and send a fluttery feeling to his heart.

harry didn't know how to respond to louis' question; for some reason it made him feel warm inside, the way louis' whispery, sweet voice formed around the word love was enchanting, a lovely magical thing that harry could never in a million years explain.

"harry," louis nudged him, his voice growing impossibly softer, and harry watched as the hour hand on the small clock on the wall passed the one. he felt as if he should be tired, but he was more relaxed. he had only yawned once, and that's because louis yawned first. 

"i don't know," harry whispered. the rain muffled his voice and for some reason harry found that exciting. "what's yours?"

"my definition of love?" louis drew back a little, his head titled and causing his hair to float in the air, dangling in little strands of what harry considered gold, and he reached his long fingers out to touch it. and it was soft, of course it was. louis smiled, the corners of his lips turning up just a little and the crinkles by his eyes peeking out, just a little. harry took a picture of it in his mind. he never wanted to forget it.

"yeah," harry nodded. "what's your definition of love, louis?"

louis paused, snuggling further into harry, his arms tightening around the boy. harry felt a bit better than he had in a while, since louis made him eat, just a bit, and now the hunger pains weren't as bad.

"my definition of love," louis hummed, "is short. but it can also be long. which one would you rather hear?"

"both." harry fisted his hand against louis' chest, trying to hide the smile on his face. louis smelled like soap, so much like a boy and harry hoped louis didn't mind the way he was messing with the thin grey shirt that the boy had put on when he grew a bit colder. the thin fabric wrinkled beneath his soft touch, and he rubbed it between his thumb and pointer finger.

"i'll say the long one first," louis decided. harry looked up at him, expectant and excited. he nodded when louis took a long breath, as if thinking deeply.

"love is a.. what's the word," louis looked into the sky, "love is breathtaking. it takes your breath away so much. when someone kisses you, it feels magical. you want to be with the person you love all day, and when they're gone it feels like there's something missing, like you're going to school without clothes on or just floating, not moving away or towards anything, just waiting for something, somebody, to come back. you obsess over every single one of their flaws because those flaws become your favourite part of that person. their sensitivity is something you cherish; you live for the way they come to you when they're sad. when they have tears, you want to be the one that kisses them away, the one that hugs them so tightly that neither of you can breathe. and it sucks sometimes, you both get jealous and want to break down sometimes but it's okay because you know that later you'll be okay, you'll be talking about your problems and your lives and unimportant things because your love is better than that, your love is better than jealousy and hate and ignorance. love is when you stare into somebody's eyes and you can hear every thought their thinking, and it hurts you physically when their hurting. when you can't fall asleep because you said one thing and the fact that you caused them any pain just kills you, it eats you away. love is when you watch the way that person blinks, when you stare at the curve of the bottom of their lip and the dimples on their cheeks and every curl of their hair. love is when you feel like you can't contain everything, when you feel like your losing your mind when really you are numb to everything else around you but that person and you want to scream, you want to yell to the world that you love that person, that that person is yours and only yours and nobody can touch you because what you have it magical, it's unbreakable even by a million miles or a couple of guys that try to come between you. love is when you're willing to change, willing to do anything just to show that person that you care about them so freaking much it hurts, so much that you could burst. love is putting sugar in their tea even thought it isn't needed and watching the way they make their bed and answer the door and stab each piece of macaroni on the tines of their fork, watching the way they mess up both sides of their hair and use two fingers to swipe it across their forehead. it's watching the way they watch you, and listen to you, when you're speaking. it's when you know that you would do anything, anything, to see them smile, to see that imaginary halo that's always floating above their curls that you've always wanted to touch but you know it's not really there. but it seems like it, it seems like you're standing next to an angel."