The Prince Of Light (Larry Stylinson)

And Then There Were Four

Louis wakes the next morning to find his head is resting on a pillow and the fire out, but he's still warm on the inside, thoughts of his night with Harry running through his veins.

He realises he doesn't know where Harry came from or where he lives or what his last name is or any other useful information that would help find him.

Fuck.

The rest of his day is completely uneventful. He cooks and does some washing and watches a game on TV. He gets messages from his Abby and the girls excitedly sending him pictures and videos from their adventures at the Dr Who museum.

He also gets a single "Help Me" selfie from poor Colin sitting surrounded by about twenty bags in some shopping centre looking haggard.

But he can't stop thinking about last night. Maybe he hit his head when he fell and it was all just a dream. Or maybe that wank was even more mind blowing than he thought...

It's dark out now and he goes into the kitchen to make a cup of tea before bed. He puts the kettle on and stares at the fruit bowl and he wonders.

"Fuck it." He says as he grabs a banana and some cookies and throws on his coat, beanie, and vans.

Looking around in the garden from the back porch he can't see anyone. He can't see Harry.

Still, he goes to the cubby house and places the food on the little table just like last night, more careful tonight as he climbs back down the ladder.

Nothing.

He goes back into the house, makes his tea, turns off the lights and goes upstairs to bed.

His bright purple vibrator is still on the bedside table, as is the lube and the dirty towel on the floor from the night before. He grabs the towel and takes it to the laundry basket in the bathroom and washes the vibrator.

Padding back in his bedroom he puts on his pyjamas and crawls under the covers.

For some reason he doesn't even feel like wanking. Clearly he's unwell or something. But he just lays there. Thoughts of curly haired angels popping in his head.

He's just drifting off when he hears a familiar rustle in the tree just outside his window.

"Not tonight badger!" He shouts towards the window.

More rustling.

"Oi! Badger! There's no show tonight. Go get your entertainment somewhere else!!"

"M'not a badger." A deep voice says in the darkness.

Louis sits bolt upright in bed and flicks on the lamp. That voice. That gorgeous voice he was so worried he would never hear again.

"What the fuck! .....Harry?"

Sitting on the tree branch that almost touches the side of the house is Harry. Harry. Perched in the tree like it's the most normal thing ever.

"Are you fucking shitting me here mate? What the hell are you doing?"

"Just admiring the view Lou...." Harry says as he munches on the banana. Watching him take the banana into his mouth Louis decides that Harry should come with a fucking warning label, maybe some flashing emergency lights.

Louis jumps up, rounds his bed and heads over to the window. He pushes the window all the way up and leans out over the sill.

He looks down to the ground at least ten meters below and back up to Harry, sitting there straddling the branch with his long legs swinging back and forth, his back leaning against the trunk casual as anything.