Soulmate Search // larry

Day 11

It is so odd, Harry thinks, waking up and not feeling Louis curled into him, his eyelashes fluttering against Harry’s smooth skin. It’s weird to get up in the morning now and not hear Louis humming in the shower, or hear his giggles as they see who can run down the six flights of stairs faster in order to get breakfast. It’s odd not to see Louis beside him and, sometimes, he finds himself glancing around as if expecting Louis to be there, until he remembers that it’s impossible.

But the worst part? He’s forgetting what it’s like to kiss Louis. He’s forgetting the taste of Louis’ pretty pink lips, the feeling of their bodies pressed together and their eyes darting back and forth between the other’s lips. He finds it hard to recall what it felt like to have Louis’ little fingers combing through his hair when he’s woken up before Harry, and he can’t remember too well the pads of his fingers tapping up and down Harry’s back while they sat together at a restaurant. He can’t remember the feeling of Louis’ head against his stomach as Louis lay on top of him on the couch, their chests rising and falling in harmony.

Harry remembers the sights and the sounds, but he’s forgetting the feelings. The weekend is a blur of happiness, and it’s as if the whole thing is an old photograph, the touches being the smudges around the edges that are hard to see.

It’s insane. The two only spent a little over two days together, but they’re acting like they’ve been joined at the hips their whole lives and that this is their first time being apart.

Cutie Louis: I miss you, Harry Fairy :(

Cutie Louis: I’m lonely and in need of a good cuddle. Are you good at teleportation?

Harry frowns because no, he’s no good at teleportation, but he wishes he was. He’d do anything for Louis in an instant. Eloise teases him about it. They both know that Louis has himself wrapped around Harry’s finger.

He tells Louis that he would be there if he could while he sips his coffee. Eloise and Harry are sitting in the bakery Kat and Niall work at, which is surprisingly busy today.

“Shit, shit, shit!” a distressed voice yells from the back, the sound of something clattering to the floor follows it seconds later.

“You idiot!” another voice shouts.

Customers look up from their treats, alarmed. Kat emerges from the back door, shooting everyone a small smile, and heading to the cash register. It’s then that Harry catches a glimpse of what’s in her hands.

It’s a goldfish. Kat has a goldfish in a plastic cup, and it’s just chilling, swimming around its little cup.

“Uh,” Eloise says, giving Harry a weird look. “Why does Kat have a goldfish?”

“How should I know?” he responds, going back to texting Louis.

He grins at his phone. Louis is amazing. Harry wants to memorize every single small thing there possibly could be to memorize about him. He wants to know every wrinkle, freckle, scar, and birthmark on Louis skin, know the things he does that he doesn’t realize he does, like sticking the tip of his tongue out when he’s concentrating or bite at his knuckles when he’s nervous. Harry wants to have the sight of Louis permanently in his mind, like it’s painted to his eyelids. He wants to know the rhythmic sound of Louis’ heartbeat and his breathing like he knows the back of his hand. He wants to memorize every track that runs across Louis’ palms and everything that makes Louis smile.