Young & Beautiful

Harry beams, pulls Louis in by the back of the neck and presses his mouth against Louis’ ear.
“The moon knows,” is what he says, breath colored in liquor and a smile.
Louis stares at him.
“What are you talking about?”
Another manic grin from Harry, and then he pulls him in again, his hand travelling to the side of
Louis’ face, cradling his cheek.
“The moon knows that we’re in love.”
And Louis pauses at that, his entire body and physical processes pause, because Harry has never
said he loves Louis. He’s implied it, his eyes have whispered it, but he’s never said it and…did he
just, sort of, maybe say it?
“Wha—“ he begins, dizzy, his veins filling, but Harry steps even closer, continues to whisper
even lower.
“I’m in love with you, Louis Tomlinson,” Harry says, curls the words in Louis’ ear, and when
Louis pulls back to look at him, his gaze is dazed and soft, grinning with freedom and the
recklessness of inebriation. Fond. “And this belongs to you,” he continues in his low, rumbling
volume as he places Louis’ hand over his heart and presses it there, holds it there with his cool
fingers clasped around Louis’ wrist. “It’s yours, and yours to keep, and nobody deserves to know
because nobody else matters.”
Louis thinks he might die, standing here with the perspiration layering his skin like a delicate film,
the gaze of the heavens alighting his limbs as he feels the beat of Harry’s thumping heart beneath
his fingers.
Harry’s gaze burns into him like white fire.
And breathing is currently hard, near impossible, but Louis defies reality and smiles, stepping
closer and exhaling through a breathy whisper, “Hey, Harry Styles?”
And Harry breaks into a wider grin, shuffles closer still, whispers, “What?”
There’s a delicate, moon-laden moment where they’re just pressed against each other, lost in each
others’ gazes, surrounded by endless night and endless sky and slick roads. Louis would hate to
wax cliché but… time might have actually fucking stopped. In the most delicious way.
But then Louis’ lips twitch and he’s taking a step back, breaking free of Harry’s clutch and lifts
himself on his tippy toes, throwing his head back to the sky.
“I LOVE YOU, TOO!” he shouts, throws the words from his chest, arms flung wide. “I LOVE
YOU, HARRY EDWARD STYLES!”
And, nope, Louis never ever thought he’d be the type to drunkenly screech his love to the
sleeping world but here he is and here they are and when Harry’s face bursts into life and color
like a newborn star, Louis knows that he never wants to stop being this person.
“I LOVE YOU!” he screams again, just to watch the jade of Harry’s eyes dance, and he’s
breathless and elated and everything feels endless.
“What are you doing?” Harry giggles, glancing brightly between Louis and the sky as he tumbles