8 parts Complete ❝Somehow their pinky fingers wind up taut around each others, tears mixing with hushed promises that, one day, they'd make it out of here and they'd each have ten kids and they'd each marry a beautiful wife ("Not in that order, I hope," Louis jokes). Harry realizes that that's kind of the point, isn't it. That he doesn't need to know where they came from or what they'll do next: only where they are going. Where they are headed. So he locks fingers with all of them again and they fall asleep like that, underneath the stars, coyotes howling at the ghosts of their dreams that hover above their heads as they slumber, glistening sparks of passion dissipating into the night.❞
Historical fanfiction set during the American Civil War.
