1800 hours.

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1800 hours.

When Louis gets back to his and Harry's shared hotel room, Harry is sleeping soundly, his body curved around a pillow he was using in place of Louis' body. Louis smiles, stripping of his "date" clothes and remains in his boxers, walking towards the small refrigerator in the corner, opening it and grabbing a water bottle which was probably extra expensive for not reason. He sat on the couch in the living area of their suite and turned on the telly, pleasantly surprised to find a footy game on and he decided it was good enough.

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