next to you ❀ l.s.

five - thursdays are for the boys

By Thursday evening, the bruises on Harry's face had mostly faded. Still, when Liam opened the door to let him into Louis's flat for their movie night, Louis could see Liam's shoulders tense visibly even from where he stood in the kitchen. As Liam's eyes flicked over the marks, Louis saw a flash of anger cross the other boy's face for a split second, but to his surprise, Liam didn't say a single word about it.

Standing awkwardly in the doorway, Harry held up a tupperware container for Liam to inspect. "I made cookies," he offered, although his announcement came out more like a question than a fact, as if he didn't know how to ask for the approval that he so desperately craved.

Luckily, Liam didn't hesitate to provide it. "Haz! You're too pure for this world, mate." He took the container from the younger boy's hands and pulled him in for a friendly hug, ruffling his loose curls as he squeezed Harry tightly to his side.

"Better give Niall a few," Harry said, gesturing to the pouting Irish boy sitting on the couch. The nervous expression on Harry's face had already been replaced with an ear-to-ear smile; in fact, he was practically beaming. "He looks like he may tackle you if you make him wait any longer."

Liam laughed. He closed the front door behind them and moved into the living room, opening the tupperware as he sat down beside Niall. Rather than following Liam, Harry headed into the kitchen to stand beside Louis, his movements slow and uncertain in the unfamiliar space.

"Hi, Lou."

"Hey," Louis replied, already smiling. He kept his gaze trained on the apples that he was cutting into thin slices; he wasn't the best in the kitchen, so he really needed to maintain his focus.

And having this beautiful, mysterious boy brushing lightly up against his shoulder definitely wasn't helping.

"Planning to feed Niall with just apples?" Harry teased quietly, smiling. "When Liam and Niall come to my house, I always imagine that I'm cooking for a family of five. And then I whip up a little something for myself and Liam," he joked.

"You didn't have to bake anything, you know," he told Harry gently. "You're a guest here, too, and I'm perfectly happy to let Niall whine about how hungry he is."

Harry's smile instantly dropped from his face, and he stared back at Louis with wide eyes. "Oh, I-I'm sorry," he replied quickly. "I should've asked first. I didn't mean to --"

"Whoa, whoa. Hold on." Louis stopped cutting the apples, turning to face Harry fully as he started to backtrack. He had already noticed that Harry was a bit flighty, but the boy's full one-eighties still caught him off guard every time. "That's not what I meant," he assured him quickly. "You're a doll, as always. I just don't want you to feel obligated to take care of us all the time -- even if we are three helpless college boys."

Harry seemed to relax a bit at that, although he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, chewing nervously. "Do you think . . . um, do you want me to help?" he asked cautiously.

As much as Louis wanted to say no, it seemed like Harry felt better when he felt more useful, so he replied cheerfully, "Sure. Just grab a knife from behind me, and cut them any way you want."

The corners of Harry's mouth tugged upward into a smile, and he hurried to follow Louis's instructions. He carefully took an apple from the pile, and Louis tried not to notice the fact that Harry watched him cut an apple before starting on one himself, making sure to copy Louis's style of slicing when he cut his own.

But he did notice, of course.

Harry spoke again after a few moments of silence, the only sounds in the kitchen being the tap of their knives against the cutting board and the muffled chatter of the television from the living room. "I like taking care of people," he admitted quietly, almost under his breath.