Cherry Pie

Louis set down the man's refilled cup of coffee onto the table, that followed a kind but rough croon of, "thank you, darling."

He could feel Harry's eyes following each and every movement of his with tenderness. Louis was comforted under his gaze, and tried not to think of how he would have to go yet another two weeks without feeling those little flutters that exploded inside of his chest, much like they were currently.

"You're welcome. How was the pie?"

"Good, almost perfect. Sweet as always, just how I like 'em. I reckon that m'only complaint is that it could never be as sweet as you."

Then, Louis turned redder than the mere scraps of cherry jelly leftover on the plate he'd been suddenly clutching desperately onto, in hopes of keeping him from swooning pathetically. He was absolutely hopeless.