168 HOURS (Larry Stylinson)

2// Baby Tarzan

The next morning was slightly chilly with a warm breeze, which Louis found as the perfect weather to be sitting outside in. He had already bought his tea and muffin -and also decided to already buy Harry's- but he was waiting for the bun boy to get here so they could eat together.

Right on the dot of the said time to meet, Harry breathlessly jogged up to Louis with a smile. Harry obviously was freezing, since he was wearing sweats, a long sleeved workout shirt, and yet, was shivering.

"You're precisely on time," Louis greeted and handed him the paper coffee cup.

Harry raised an eyebrow, "And you're early."

Louis shrugged and even though nobody had asked Harry said, "I'm a time freak. Everything has to be times perfectly or not at all." Louis tried to hide his amused expression in his coffee cup.

Just like planned the night before, Louis and Harry marched off to start their day together. First, they started to walk along a flower-lined sidewalk that led all around the area only to end back in front of the cafe. And it was now Louis began to notice something different about Harry. When they finished their breakfast and their walk, they nestled into a hidden brush by a stream and rolled their pant legs up and rested their aching feet in the soft-flowing stream. Still Louis couldn't place his finger on what was different about Harry. But when Louis was placing his Converse back on his feet, he realized what was off today.

"I figured it out!" I exclaimed and thrust a finger into the air. Harry stopped from tying his shoe and looked up at him with a puzzled expression. "It's your hair!" Louis stated matter-of-factly. Harry slowly nodded and was feeling a bit confused. "Your hair! It's not in a bun today!"

And Louis was right. Harry's hair flowed down the sides of his head with a waviness and stopped just shy of his broad shoulders.

"Lou, it's been four hours and you're just now noticing?" Harry asked after his laughing fit. Louis found the laughter as a form of Harry mocking him, and did not find it funny.

"Yes and you look like a baby Tarzan or a baby lion with too much mane."

"So maybe I should put it back up then?" Harry went to pull it up but Louis was quick to stop him by shouting a "no!" and putting a hand on Harry's arm.

"I mean," Louis blushed and drew his arm back, "don't let me tell you how to look. And besides, I like Tarzan."

And Louis didn't see it because he was slipping on his other Converse and trying to hide his flaring cheeks. But Harry gave Louis a very fond smile. Except it was more of a stare: an affectionate stare. Still, Louis missed the gesture; and when he looked back up, Harry quickly looked down.

Louis cleared his throat, and asked, "Where to next?"

Harry shrugged and stood up; then, when Louis prissily held out his hand like a princess or some form of royalty, he helped Louis stand up too.

"Wanna go grab some pizza?" Harry suggested and jabbed a thumb in the direction of a section of the building they ate dinner at last night. Louis nodded and they made their way with Louis laughing at Harry's stupid but adorable jokes.

When they walked inside, they both were immediately overwhelmed with the smell of bacon and a temperature drop. They shared a look and wrapped their arms around themselves to try and gather warmth in the suddenly cold building and walked towards the doors to the pizzeria. Harry held the door open for Louis -always what true gentlemen do- and Louis gave a fake curtsy back. Both of them walked up to the counter while gazing up at the menu hanging by chains above the countertop. With their shared pepperoni pizza and coca-colas, they moved to a booth in the back corner where they were somewhat secluded.

"This pizza is heaven," Harry moaned with pizza cheese hanging out of his mouth. He noticed that Louis had started picking the pepperoni off of his and setting it onto a napkin. "Do you not like pepperoni pizza or something? Because I can go and ask for a new-"

"No no," Louis laughed and shook his head. "I do like pepperoni pizza, I just eat it all separately." Louis found it both amusing and sweet that Harry had noticed this small casualty. But Harry found it interesting and quirky; Harry liked quirky.

The boys filled their afternoon with laughs and pokes and senseless arguments and nonsense topics and found themselves still sitting in the same booth two hours later.

"What are you doing tomorrow Louis?" Harry asked just as he did the night before. Louis groaned and hit his head on the wall beside him in frustration.

He closed his eyes and whined, "I have rehearsal dinners all the rest of my time here. I'm going to kill myself." He began to repeatedly banged his head on the wall.

"Hey don't say that," Harry comforted. "Who will I hang out with if you're dead?"

"You could always pretend that I'm still alive and be like those creeps who keep their wives' bodies after they die and pretend they're still living," Louis pointed out.

Harry nodded and thought for a moment before responding, "Are you saying that I should treat you like you're my wife?"

Louis blushed and furiously shook his head, "Not the point I was trying to get across at all."

"Aww come on, I can't be that bad of a husband," Harry pouted. Louis laughed and tugged lightly on Harry's protruding bottom lip just for the hell of it. Harry pouted even more and drew his face back from the table.

After deciding that Louis was not going to kill himself -only because Harry lugging a body around wherever he went wasn't going to be the easiest, and when he starts decomposing, cologne can't do anything to help- they raced each other across the court to the hotel building. And Harry won but he still treated Louis like he won by holding the door open for him and making sure he didn't trip on the stairs because the elevator was broken. Then, they were back in Harry's room on the same bed, and watching the exact same shitty Mexican channel.

"I don't feel like improvising lines for crying Hispanics," Louis clicked the television off, "I'm tired." He yawned and curled himself into Harry's side.

Shocked and confused, Harry debated the best way to get himself comfortable without Louis having to move. The only way he could think of was if Harry turned to where Louis was snuggled to Harry's chest and he sort of hugged Louis. Harry was never good with the whole "cuddling" thing. Although he didn't consider this cuddling; cuddling was for couples. Louis was just super tired and probably didn't realize how he had fallen asleep.

But oh god Harry realized he sounded like a straight, American, white boy. They had known each other for almost two whole days but hell, Harry knew it sounded cliche but he felt like he had known Louis for a whole lot longer. And you know, he didn't really mind that Louis was all nestled into his side and was technically in Harry's arms.

So he embraced the moment and the pleasurable feeling and turned to lay where he was sort of hugging Louis into his body. Harry liked this feeling.

And Harry especially likes cerulean colored eyes, and wispy hair, and quirky personalities, and cute laughs, and boys in bands, and the boy who fits under all of these categories: Louis.