you're cold and I burn (on hold)

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Three The first night is absolute shit, Louis sleeps like absolute shit. Because he swears he can hear Harry unpacking <strong>and</strong> banging around in there, a slight mumbling every now <strong>and</strong> again. And it shouldn’t keep him up, but it evidently does. Which is just precious. He’s still laying in bed <strong>and</strong> choosing to ignore the clock on his nightst<strong>and</strong> that undoubtably reads somewhere after four in the fucking morning. And Harry is still awake. With the amazing luck Louis is blessed with, Harry is apparently nocturnal. Like a bat, but a lot less quiet. Harry is boisterous bat. It may be in combination with the aggravation <strong>and</strong> nerves, but every time he’s on the brink of falling asleep, he jolts back awake <strong>and</strong> not only is it incredibly annoying, but it’s also very tiresome. The sheets don’t seem to be helping the matter in the least bit, <strong>and</strong> they’re almost suffocating at this point. Hot <strong>and</strong> heavy <strong>and</strong> not even the ceiling fan can cool him down. So, he’s flicking off the comforter, then feeling vulnerable <strong>and</strong> sliding it back on. Then getting hot <strong>and</strong> flinging it off again. It’s like this all hours of the night <strong>and</strong> the sun is starting to paint the sky in a faint blue. He’s most likely going to be a walking zombie tomorrow. He really needs to welcome himself into the lovely job market, <strong>and</strong> going in for an application while looking half-dead usually isn’t the best way to go about it. The room is filled with the tempo of the fan’s motor, the blades catching the air <strong>and</strong> making a whooshing sound. That, <strong>and</strong> the ugly sound of his teeth grinding together, his eye lids drooping but not allowing him to succumb. It’s akin to torture, <strong>and</strong> maybe not getting any sleep is how Louis dies. Hard boots on the floor, then a slight slam <strong>and</strong> another mumble. Why the mother fuck is he still walking around in there? Is he having some sort of one-person home warming party? Whatever it is that he’s doing, he needs to stop <strong>and</strong> get his curly headed ass in the bed before Louis beats his door down <strong>and</strong> tosses him (<strong>and</strong> his lack of manners) right out the bloody window. He gets a bit cranky when he’s sleep deprived, obviously. His eyes have already adjusted, <strong>and</strong> with the help from the morning sun, the room is no longer dark. In fact, it’s a bit too bright for Louis’ taste. He likes to sleep like he’s in a cave, pitch black, unable to see a h<strong>and</strong> that’s two inches from his face. He can probably credit that to the fact that his parents never allowed any light in his room after bedtime when he was younger. They complained he would stay awake all night <strong>and</strong> draw on his walls, on his arms, on his nails. And yes, maybe he painted his nails but it was just a few times because the colors were so pretty, how could he not? Then his mother found all her missing nail paint bottles lodged under his bed <strong>and</strong> almost chucked them at Louis’ head. After that, it was no night-light allowed. Purely dark, an abyss, really. It was terrifying at first. Because he swears on his grave that there were things moving around in that room. And the lamps looked like silhouettes of people <strong>and</strong> they all had odd faces. The negatives of being artistic, is having an overly active imagination. The first night he slept in the black of his room, he imagined people walking back <strong>and</strong> forth just past the foot of his bed, it scared him shitless <strong>and</strong> his parents couldn’t bother to care. Because yeah, they no longer cleaned the walls or had to search high <strong>and</strong> low for stolen polish; but their five year old son dreaded going to bed because it was horrific. They didn’t care. What’s new. But, ironic enough, Louis loves the dark now. Can’t sleep if there’s any light whatsoever. So, the sun is consequently ending any hopes of sleeping tonight. And there’s another thump from the next room over, <strong>and</strong> Louis has officially had enough. He flings his legs over the edge of the
ed with a dramatic huff, his hair surely sticking up in all directions. He most likely looks like he’s just stuck his finger in a light socket, but he can’t bother to give a single fuck. The floor is freezing beneath the pads of his feet, sending a steam of <strong>cold</strong> chills up his legs <strong>and</strong> to the tips of his fingers. The room is frigid without the heat of the blanket, so he pulls it from the bed <strong>and</strong> wraps it around his shoulders. Which, actually, does a nice job of covering his brief-clad body quite nicely. He looks like an angry penguin, <strong>and</strong> feels like it too with the way he’s waddling, the blanket wrapping him like a cocoon. His brows are nit down, making the frustration more than apparent <strong>and</strong> he opens his bedroom door, well he really kind of throws it open <strong>and</strong> feels like a child throwing a temper tantrum in the process. But he’s tired <strong>and</strong> running on less than enough energy to deal with his annoying flatmate, <strong>and</strong> he’s still not sure why the fuck this guy is up so late. He better not do this every night, or Louis will pack his shit <strong>and</strong> sleep in a box on the side of the road, he likes his rest. Louis’ st<strong>and</strong>ing in front of Harry's door, <strong>and</strong> for some reason the nerves are back but they’re completely covered <strong>and</strong> overpowered by frustration. The light is peaking out from the crack between the floor <strong>and</strong> the door, lighting up Louis’ feet, <strong>and</strong> he forgot to trim those gruesome toenails. He makes a mental note, again, as he picks his feet up, taking a bit of a closer examination, before putting them back down quietly. When the bedroom door flies open, Louis’ stomach drops out of his ass, jumping back at the speed of lighting, the thud of his heart too fucking loud in his ears. The light is bright <strong>and</strong> almost blinding at first, though it’s just a dull glow from a single lamp, he has to blink until his eyes finally adjust. Harry is st<strong>and</strong>ing there, looking wide awake <strong>and</strong> exactly the same as he did when he first walked in. Only his the whites of his eyes are shaded red <strong>and</strong> he looks so confused it’s comical. “Louis, what a surprise for you to come visit me. Can I help you?” “Yes, actually,” Louis starts, <strong>and</strong> is a bit thrown off by the hoarse raspiness of his own voice, “Can you quiet down in there? I haven’t been able to sleep all night, you keep banging around <strong>and</strong> wreaking havoc, it’s distracting.” Harry’s brows shoot up immediately, blinking twice before responding, “What the fuck are you on about? I haven’t made any noise.” “Hah!” Louis laughs, <strong>and</strong> it comes across as fake as he planned it to, “That’s hilarious.” Harry doesn’t say anything, just leans his head onto the frame of the door, his h<strong>and</strong> sliding down to rest on the h<strong>and</strong>le. It takes a few moments of sassy stares <strong>and</strong> an ever sassier head tilt from Louis before he finally says anything. “Be honest here, did you just make up an excuse to talk to me?” What the fuck? “Are you kidding me? Why the hell would I do that? I hear you walking around, some annoying thudding, <strong>and</strong> it sounds like you’re talking to yourself. So, after however many god forsaken hours of trying desperately to fall asleep, I gave up <strong>and</strong> came to tell you to quiet the fuck down.” Louis snaps, even more agitated by Harry’s outward confidence <strong>and</strong> he wants to kick him in the shin. Fuck wad. “Ah, I see.” Harry purses his lips, nodding a few times, “Your hair looks cute right now, you just get electrocuted or something? Is that why you’re so grumpy?” Louis’ mouth opens with a pop, <strong>and</strong> Harry’s looking directly at him, blinking innocently, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. It’s not enough to bring out that crater-dimple, but big
Page 1 and 2: Posted originally on the Archive of
Page 3 and 4: evident on Louis’ face as he scro
Page 5 and 6: And fuck, Louis was such a bad stud
Page 7 and 8: “Not quite, plus that would be a
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Page 11 and 12: Two It’s the most repulsive admis
Page 13 and 14: He misses it, having a car. Being a
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Page 17 and 18: the natural curves. There’s a mea
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Page 21: guess you’ll just have to trust m
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Page 49 and 50: *** The storm wages on, turning out
Page 51 and 52: (I highly suggest) Thanks for readi
Page 53 and 54: knowing that if the smallest sounds
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Page 57 and 58: Who else was going to protect you f
Page 59 and 60: “My advice is to just keep talkin
Page 61 and 62: Chapter 7 Chapter Summary Louis fin
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Page 65 and 66: even be home. They all spend some m
Page 67 and 68: comfortable. “It’s not,” Nial
Page 69 and 70: “You got that from nervous jitter
Page 71 and 72: Chapter 8 Chapter Notes See the end
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“I’ll respect you when you act
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always been this way.” Harry’s
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sweet smell of hazelnut will bright
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“Can’t help but notice we’re
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Chapter 9 Chapter Summary Louis los
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That answer isn’t good enough, <s
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move, “..Mmm, heart, made me want
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Louis’ going to pretend it had no
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was against it, he wouldn’t have
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Chapter 10 Chapter Summary
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“Uhm,” He coughs, looking to th
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ought up. It could live on in the w
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His and Harry’s
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“Forecast said heavy rain for ton
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Chapter 11 Chapter Summary a few mo
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are never a rarity. “I was just t
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“I’ll wait for this to finish i
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Harry’s lips continue, all the wa
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***** “Y’know, sometimes it see
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