under your bed in new york. // larry stylinson

ten.

It was 8:40pm when Louis found the box.

They'd taken their time to eat dinner, and when they'd finished the stayed at the dining table and chatted for a spell while they finished off the small bottle of wine Louis had brought. By the time they'd finished, Louis was a little tipsy as he stood up and grabbed both of their plates to bring into the kitchen.

"Wait, Lou, I'll wash the dishes." Harry stood up automatically and held his hands out. "You cooked, it's only right that I wash the dishes."

Louis squinted at Harry for a few seconds, then decided that he'd better take Harry up on his offer because he didn't like washing up anyway. "Okay."

"You can have a look around the flat and see what's changed while I do the washing up," Harry said, taking the plates from Louis.

"You better not have changed too much, my interior decorating was wonderful." Louis stretched a little and yawned, covering his mouth.

"I told you I didn't change much, I liked it the way it was." Harry started walking towards the kitchen.

"Am I allowed into your bedroom?"

"Sure." Harry disappeared into the kitchen and Louis could hear the tap start running. Milky was sniffing the collection of shoes near the door and Louis went to retrieve her.

"Come on, Milky, let's do some exploring," he said, patting his thigh to get her attention. Milky trotted behind him faithfully as Louis wandered around the flat.

The couch, coffee table, and rug in the living room were the same, although the pile of DVDs in the cupboard had changed and the TV had been upgraded to a better model. There was a shelf that was solely dedicated to pictures, and Louis walked over to look at them, expecting to see some new pictures from the past three years. To his shock, though, the picture shelf looked almost exactly the same, save a few added pictures of some of Harry's newer achievements. Why hadn't Harry changed any of the pictures? It wasn't like Louis expected him to have revamped everything, but more than three quarters of the pictures were of Louis and Harry. There were several pictures of them kissing, several pictures of them giving each other lovesick look - for God's sake, there were even several of Louis' baby pictures on the shelf.

Louis would've expected Harry to have removed the pictures of himself. Had Harry been living for the past three years in an apartment that contained more than half a dozen pictures of his ex? What would his girlfriend think of that? To be fair, Louis still kept a few pictures containing Harry framed in his flat, but this was different. These were intimate pictures, pictures that showed how in love they'd been with each other, pictures that would tear Louis apart with heartbreak if he saw them every day of his life.

Milky had gotten bored of Louis standing there for so long and had decided to move on, waddling past Louis into another part of the room. Louis took one last glance at the shelf and move on too, deciding that whatever pictures Harry kept framed were his business, and maybe he'd just forgotten to change them.

Louis continued ambling around the apartment, realizing that Harry wasn't lying when he said he hadn't changed much about the apartment. It was almost the same as when Louis left, which somehow comforted him because he hated change. This apartment had been his haven for three years and he was glad that it still felt like home.

He finally made it to Harry's bedroom, which he was a little anxious to enter. Out of everything in the apartment, the bedroom was the most private room, and it had used to be his favorite place. He and Harry had made so many intimate, personal memories there, twisted in the bedsheets together and whispering secrets they'd never tell anyone else.