The heiress arrives on the most ordinary of days. It's the beginning of June, not a cloud in the sky, like England said it was okay for her to be here. Like England said sure that works!
"Ugh," Harry groans.
He wishes it could rain, or snow. He wishes there would be thunder. Something, anything, that resembles the tumultuous storm of feelings battling in his chest. But no, the sun just shines and the birds keep singing like Louis isn't faking interest in some stupid arranged marriage right this second, one hundred years ago.
Harry inhales deeply, letting his head hit the tree trunk he's resting against. He's hiding in the forest like they agreed he would. Waiting for Louis to be able to slip away and join him, like they agreed he would.
Harry reaches for his phone, looking at the time with a tiny sigh. He should be here by now. Louis should be back from his stupid tea party with some stupid Americans. He hits the tree again, closing his eyes at the burst of pain.
"Impatient?" Louis says, snapping him out of it.
"Louis!" Harry says, getting up too quickly and almost falling. "How did go? Are you alright? What did she say?"
Louis grimaces. "Not much," he replies. "The manor is very pretty," he adds in a soft airy voice before rolling his eyes. "Did you know?"
Harry smirks. "Well, you can't blame her for thinking that. It is pretty. I'd be excited to get to live there too."
The only thing sustaining Harry right now is the fact that he knows with absolute certainty that she's never going to live there.
"Yeah. It's true."
"So, was it alright?" Harry asks again, hoping he's not too annoying, but truly needing to know.
"Yeah, she's... nice. She brought presents for my little sisters. Some dolls? It was quite kind of her, she didn't have to do that."
"That's good," Harry replies, clearing his throat. "That's really good. You deserve someone kind."
Louis smiles. "I mean, we'll see. She's here all summer so I should have time to get to know her properly. Tomorrow we're going riding. Mama wants me to take her on a tour of the Estate."
Harry gulps. Louis is going to be getting busy. He's going to be busy all summer becoming friends with his future wife and Harry isn't sure if he can live with that.
"Should I..." he hesitates to continue when he sees Louis frowning a little at the tone of his voice. Harry gulps, passing a hand through his hair.
"What is is?" Louis asks.
"Should I stop coming?"
"What?" Louis gasps, taking a step away from Harry.
"I mean, now that she's here. You're going to be busy and I... I don't know, I don't wanna bother you."
"You could never bother me," Louis says, disbelieving. He shakes his head. "You're the only thing keeping me sane in this mess."
"Oh."
"I'll always make time for you. You... you don't have to worry about that. I'll always make time for you."
*
"Do you like poetry?" Louis asks one evening.
"Of course," Harry replies, wiggling his toes in the grass. "Don't you?"
"I do. It makes me feel sad and complete."
They're both lying down in a meadow, listening to the quiet of the night, happy to escape the reality of the world for just a few more minutes. Soon, Louis will have to walk back to the manor to have dinner with his guests. Soon, Harry will have to walk back home with a heavy heart. For now, they're at peace.
