The boy of the CDs (English Translation) AU

8

—Harry,—he said, stopping his walk, causing the other to imitate him and look at him, —take them — he said, taking off his black gloves and handing them over to take.

The younger looked at the gloves, then at Louis with a frown.

—No.—It was the first time Harry had refused a request from him.

—Come on, take them. —

—No. —

—Harry, please. Take them. Your hands must be frozen. —

—No, you will be cold. —

—It does not matter. — Hearing that, he crossed his arms and put an annoyed expression on his face. Not like the one before but this one showing that he was unpleased. Louis couldn't bear the thought of Harry getting mad at him.

—Really, Harry. I don't want you to be cold, —he said pleadingly.

—I don't want YOU to be cold. —Harry said emphasizing the you. They stood there for a few moments. Staring at each other, shivering with cold. Neither seemed willing to give in to the other. But every minute the night passed it grew colder and darker. They had to come to an agreement.

—Well would you take my hand? —he asked softly but shyly.

—What?—he asked in the same way.

—We put on a glove each, and with our free hand we take the other's hand to keep it warm— Louis was a little nervous when he spoke—I mean. It is the only solution I can think of. It is dark, nobody will notice it. What do you say? —

—Okay, —he replied nervously after a few moments thatseemed endless to the older. Louis awkwardly took his right glove and handed it to Harry who took it trembling partly from nerves and partly from cold. They each placed themselves in the corresponding hand and Louis held out his hand for Harry to take.

Harry swallowed hard on his nerves and shuddered his hand closer to Louis's. They pressed their hands gently over each other to try to keep as much heat as possible. Louis smiled and the younger boy returned the smile shyly.

They resumed their walk. But now more quietly than before. It was not an awkward silence. If not the opposite. The words were out of the question at the time. As if all they cared about in the world was feeling the warmth of the other's touch, feeling their soft skin, the touch of their fingers.

They stayed like this with hundreds of thoughts wandering through their head. Harry just couldn't believe he was walking hand in hand with Louis. The boy he couldn't get out of his head. It was like one of those scenes from the romantic movies his mother sometimes saw, only this was real. There was no comparison. After walking all the way, Harry stopped at black bars that gave way to a white house with a blue roof, very beautiful, he sighed pressing Louis's hand hard and then slowly releasing his grip, making them both miss the feeling.

He unlocked the gate with his key but did not enter the front yard.

—Thank you,—he said, wanting to look away, but making an effort to maintain eye contact, remembering that was what Louis wanted. —Thank for walking me home.—Louis smiled.

—It's nothing, Harry. It was a pleasure. Thanks to you for joining me for coffee. —The youngest shook his head a little, smiling until his dimple showed and he bit his lower lip.

—Harry ...— Louis said seriously making him look at him the same way. Remaining static for a few seconds. Louis was going to say something else when suddenly ...

—Harry!!— A desperate scream was heard after the door of the house opened, and the woman ran to the black bars facing the street. She hugged her son with all her strength. With his face covered in her black hair, Harry's face on her chest. Her son said absolutely nothing, after all his mother was the only person who allowed him that kind of human contact. Well, almost the only one.