Pretty Boy || larry

eleven

{all credit goes to the original author}

eleven

He’s nervous later that night, however, when Harry’s woken from his slumber and is staring at Louis with sleepy, happy eyes. They’re tucked away in Louis’ bed, laying on their sides to face one another and noses just inches apart, and to Louis it’s so lovely a sight that he almost doesn’t want to say anything, lest he make that gorgeous smile fall. He takes Harry’s hand and kisses his fingertips to strengthen his nerves, then clears his throat quietly. “Can I do something for you?”

Harry’s mouth twitches up into a little smile. “Only if you let me do the same for you. You know how weird it makes me feel when you don’t get off.”

“No, not- I wasn’t talking about sex,” Louis laughs nervously. “I was talking about something different, actually. I want to help you with something.”

A little furrow of confusion appears on Harry’s brow. “What do you mean? Help me with what?”

“Well,” Louis begins haltingly, running his fingers over Harry’s hand some more. “Don’t be mad, first of all. Because I did it for you.”

Harry swallows apprehensively. “I’ll take that into consideration.”

“I know we’ve had like fifteen thousand conversations about how I don’t want you to have to live at Kieffer’s house anymore,” Louis continues in a murmur. “And I know that you said you could never leave because as long as your mum’s there, you have to protect her. And I know you said that’s why I could never use my influence to go after Kieffer.”

“Tell me you didn’t,” Harry whispers in horror.

“I didn’t, I didn’t,” Louis says quickly, giving Harry’s hand another kiss. “I promise you I didn’t. I know that’s not what you want, and I respect that. I don’t understand it, exactly, but I respect it.”

“Then what did you do? You’re making me anxious, Louis, out with it,” Harry begs.

Louis blurts the truth out all at once. “I went to Kieffer’s and talked to your mum and convinced her to go into rehab.”

Harry sits bolt upright, jerking his hand away, eyes suddenly wild. “I can’t believe you went to Kieffer’s and lied to me about it, Japanese ambassador my arse- wait, what did you say?” he finishes dumbly when his brain catches up. “You convinced her to what?”

“We just had a chat, and I talked to her about how much better her life would be if she were clean,” Louis explains rather nervously, propped up on one elbow. “How she wouldn’t need drugs to get high because she wouldn’t be having lows. And it took a bit, but she agreed eventually. She just wants to be okay. Zayn and I drove her right to the clinic and checked her in. My dime. Best in London.”

“But that’s impossible,” Harry says, eyes still alarmingly wide. “I’ve been begging her to get clean for years, Louis. Years. Why- why now?”

It breaks Louis’ heart to know that the answer is probably that someone just had to present it to her in a way that let her be selfish. Harry could never understand that, with his big heart and his undying need to sacrifice himself for the greater good. It’s why Louis could never convince him to leave his mother. The two Styles tragedies were as different as could be; one never thought of themself, and the other never stopped. His mother would never be convinced to get help for Harry or for anyone else, but she might just do it for herself.

Louis can’t tell him that, though, because he’s known Harry for months and months that feel like forever and he’s more than smart enough to know what will break his heart. “Maybe it just wasn’t the right time until now,” he offers lamely.

Harry slowly lays back down on his side and looks at Louis steadily. After a minute, Louis tries to relax himself as well, easing back until they’re right where they started, inches apart and looking right into each other’s eyes. Harry speaks first. “What do you want from me, Louis?”

“A kiss would be nice, because I’m still not certain whether you’re pissed at me or not,” Louis answers nervously.

“Not pissed. But that’s not what I meant, either.”

Of course Louis knows that. “I want you out of there,” he tries again. “I want you safe. I don’t want you to have to do anything you don’t want to do, ever again. I don’t want you or your mum to be in a place like that.”

Still Harry shakes his head. “I know all of that. Louis, what do you want, from me?”

It’s the same dumb question but Louis feels the shift in Harry’s meaning, feels the conversation get abruptly so heavy that he thinks he might be crushed under the weight of it if he doesn’t get the truth out now. “I want you to move in with me. I want to call you my boyfriend instead of my significant other. I want to keep you here with me and buy you nice things and sleep with your head on my chest. I want it to be you and I, forever.”

“I was starting to think you’d never fess up to that,” Harry says breathlessly.

“I was starting to think you’d never ask.”

Harry finally caves and gives Louis that kiss he wanted, and by the time they come up for air the world seems so much lighter that Louis thinks to himself that surely, everything has changed.