you're cold and I burn (on hold)

when he looks at Harry, really looks at him for the first time since they’ve gotten into the flat, the
ferocity is almost unbearable.
His hair is even messier than usual, his pupils blown with wild eyes <strong>and</strong> his lips are shaded darker
<strong>and</strong> obviously swollen against clammy skin. He looks absolutely fucked, he looks recently fucked.
“And just why didn’t you come, huh? Care to explain to me why you blew me off when you
knew I had no other way home, then ignored my phone calls?” Louis gives him a split second to
answer, his eyes focused on the deep purple mark just under his jawline, “Let me answer for you.
Because you were too busy fucking someone to bother to care, am I right? I’m spot on, I can tell
by your fucking face.” He almost spits the last word, <strong>and</strong> Harry visibly shrinks away.
Harry’s mouth is open, but the words are halted on the tip of his tongue, caught in his throat, <strong>and</strong>
Louis just doesn’t have the patience to wait for his answer.
Instead, he pulls out Harry’s card, sliding it across the table towards where the boy is st<strong>and</strong>ing
awkwardly, something written in his eyes, but it’s a different language <strong>and</strong> Louis doesn’t care
enough to decipher it. “Here, <strong>and</strong> I split the bill, because that’s what flatmates do, it’s all equal.”
Nothing in his voice is sincere, <strong>and</strong> he hopes it <strong>burn</strong>s Harry the way he thinks it does.
Harry’s eyes are wide, unblinking, never moving from Louis’ face. He knows that his expression
is lacking any sort of sympathy, <strong>and</strong> he can feel the way it’s twisted into an unfaltering glare,
staring right back at Harry with such conviction that it's practically screaming. Louis bites the
inside of his cheek, resisting the urge to dissect the guilt on Harry’s face before he walks off,
slamming the door behind him without another look back. He immediately goes into his bathroom,
his clothes are constricting too tight <strong>and</strong> he’s peeling them off, throwing them hastily onto the floor
before starting the water, turning it to it’s hottest setting.
He lights all the c<strong>and</strong>les he has readily available, turning off all the lights <strong>and</strong> letting the flames
envelope the room in a sort of ambiance that he hopes will calm him. He empties a bit of
dragonfruit bubble bath into the stream, feeling the stress evaporate from his shoulders as the
bubbles fill the tub. He dips one foot in, then the other, shuddering under the blistering
temperature. His boiling blood calms to a simmer, he breathes deep, filling his lungs to their full
capacity, until it hurts then he breathes in even more. He’s never let himself blow up on anyone
like that apart from his father, but it was the combination of a shitty situation <strong>and</strong> almost two hours
of overthinking. And maybe Louis was a bit harsh on the kid, but it doesn’t change the fact that he
was too busy fucking someone <strong>and</strong> Louis had to walk home with too many groceries <strong>and</strong> too
many pent up thoughts.
And the flat is completely silent, which means any little sound could be heard. But he hasn’t heard
Harry’s boots on the hardwood, which means he hasn’t moved from his spot. It doesn’t sit right in
Louis’ stomach.
He tries to ignore the way that information refuses leave his mind, dipping his head into the water
<strong>and</strong> immersing his face under the searing heat, hopefully it’ll clear his thoughts. The floating sweet
of the c<strong>and</strong>les' scent, paired with the flickering flame against the amber walls does a good job in
making Louis’ eyelids droop. It might also have to do with the fact that he’s too exhausted to feel
anything else right this minute. His actions were justified, right? He had a right to be so mad he
was seeing red, didn’t he? Then why does he feel like it was a major overreaction, he didn’t ask to
be left in the <strong>cold</strong>, he trusted Harry to come, it’s not his fault that Harry felt getting his dick rubbed
was more important. Now Louis at least knows where his priories were, <strong>and</strong> that was the last time
he’d ever ask Harry for any favors. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice… well.
Getting out of the hot tub leaves his skin feeling too <strong>cold</strong> <strong>and</strong> exposed, immediately wrapping his
smaller frame tightly into a towel. After he’s sure that he’s fully dry, apart from his hair, he jumps
into bed. He almost falls asleep as soon as his face hits the soft cotton of his pillow, but not before