When the light loses it's touch

The faint crackle of the record player is short lived before it is engulfed in piano chords ranging in pitch. The sun, drooping lower now, softly caresses the tips of their ankles all the way down to their toes, the light wood flooring below their bare feet beaming under the suns opalescent observation and the subtle dust floating in the air drifts falling in time with the breeze that lightly gusts its way into the apartment, wafting the lace curtains the open window is caressed by.

. . .

Where Louis is in love with Harry (maybe be a little too much), and Harry is in love with Louis (possibly more than he should).

or

The one where Harry and Louis are in love and it's sunset, there's a gentle piano sound coming from the record player and it's all okay, and it's all safe.