Prisoner

Eight

Louis laughs, the sound echoing off of the walls as he tries to keep himself from being too loud. "Harry, just hold my hand. I swear I washed them."

Harry's smile gets wider, the amusement clear in his eyes. "I don't want to."

"Why??"

Louis' not sure how they got into this, or why it's so funny to them both but apparently it is, and Louis' not complaining. The ones spent with Harry are the best times he's had in awhile.

"They're too small," Harry replies, laughter seeming to be right behind his words, only barely managing to escape.

"No, yours are just too big!"

"Fine, fine. Here," Harry says, holding his hand out for Louis to grab.

Louis does just that, grabbing on to Harry's hand and holding it in his own. "See, that's not so bad is it?" Louis says, squeezing Harry's hand just a little, in a reassuring way.

"I suppose not. They really are so small though," Harry answers, looking to both of their hands and grinning.

Louis smiles. He loves that Harry's so cool about everything. After the first day, Louis thought it would take forever to get Harry to open up and just be himself but it's really not been that hard.

Louis' always saw Harry as someone who has a light inside of them, it's just being dimmed by something. Louis' starting to see that light shine though, more and more. Harry really has such a kind heart and Louis knows that he truly is such a good person that just happened to make one really big mistake.

"You know how you asked me what I would want to be doing if I wasn't in here?" Harry says to Louis. Louis nods so Harry continues. "I think I would want to open like a cafe, but one with dogs or cats you know?"

Louis' heart flutters just a bit. "Really?"

Harry nods. "Yeah, and I would have like a wall full of books and a couch or two and comfortable chairs and stuff."

"What would you call it?" Louis asks, imagining in his head what Harry's cafe would look like.

It'd be soft but with a touch of edginess. It'd radiate the same calm and tranquil vibes Harry gives. People would go there to talk and to just hang out with their friends. It'd maybe have a industrial or rustic look to it. Soft acoustic music playing in the background as the smell of fresh coffee and dog hair danced throughout the room.

"I'm not sure," Harry says. "What's a good name?"

Louis thinks for a moment, genuinely trying to come up with a good idea, something that suits Harry. "What about like, 'The Grind'?"

"I like that, a lot actually."

Louis gives a bright smile, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction of pleasing Harry. "Where would you want to open it?"

"The city. Like New York maybe. Or Maine, I've always wanted to go to Maine," Harry says with a dreamy look in his eyes, clear that he's imagining it all in his head just as Louis' doing himself.

Louis thinks about how it'll never happen. That The Grind —at least opened by Harry— won't ever be a thing. That it's just another far fetched dream that will be lost with Harry when he leaves.

"That's awesome. I love the city. I'd so go to your cafe."

"I'll hire you, then you can come everyday and pet the dogs. Maybe give people free therapy. I'm sure tons of people need it."

"That actually would be so cool. Oh my God! What if we like co-owned it and called it Halo's for like Harry and Louis, the first two letters you know?"