"Where are we?" "Um. A little while out of London?" Niall tries, seemingly the only one willing to not be mysterious and provide Harry with information, and. Oh. "London London? As in, the capital of England London?" he asks, just in case he'd misheard. "No, the other London," Louis laughs, low and biting. He comes closer finally, the moonlight just enough to reveal a sharp-cut jaw and pale skin. "Sorry, Pup." Nobody's ever called Harry a "pup". Frankly, he finds it quite insulting, but he lets it slide to try and comprehend his current crisis. * by hattalove on ao3