you're cold and I burn (on hold)

Chapter 10
Chapter Summary
<strong>and</strong> now you know me, for your eyes only..
so crazy how a certain set of lyrics can fit so perfectly sometimes.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The sheets are tangled, wrapped strategically around every limb as if trying to purposefully lock
Louis in place. He’s disoriented, to say the very least, the sun pouring in through the dirty window
pane. The bed is scorching, <strong>and</strong> Louis couldn’t hope to go back to sleep, instead flinging around
his arms until he’s finally freed.
His eyes are crusted over <strong>and</strong> heavy, <strong>and</strong> he’s barely opening them while scooting into the
bathroom. Everything still feels vaguely like a dream, like Harry’s lips were a blissful concoction
of Louis’ most desired thoughts, like Harry’s skin was imagined in the dirtiest parts, hidden in the
far back of his mind. He’s trying to come to terms with his reality, with the reality that included a
deep, passionate kiss between him <strong>and</strong> his roommate just a few hours prior.
With that, he turns the faucet, hoping the water doesn’t take too long to heat. The mirror beholds
an unsightly scene, <strong>and</strong> it almost makes Louis jump to see the mess of matted hair laid on his head,
dried spit clinging to the corner of his lips. And this is the precise reason Louis never, ever lets
anyone he’s sexually attracted to see him in the first minutes of the morning. He’d likely scare
them off.
When the water is warm enough to not send chills through his whole body, he cups his h<strong>and</strong>,
allowing it to overflow before splashing his face <strong>and</strong> rinsing the sleep clean away. Below his
h<strong>and</strong>s, his own skin feels foreign to him, his fingers craving the soft, silky skin of Harry’s back
<strong>and</strong> stomach, <strong>and</strong> fuck, it’s way too early for this shit.
He’s convincing himself, pretending that he’s confident <strong>and</strong> unwavering <strong>and</strong> he’s not going to
walk out of this room with an expression that gives away the unnatural unease he’s feeling at the
pit of his stomach. And yeah, he’s been nervous before, obviously. But it’s never been this type of
nervous, where he’s continuously splashing water over his eyes <strong>and</strong> somewhat wishing it could
clear his thoughts just as easy.
Louis hears the sure voice of Niall echoing around the cluttered jam in his skull, trying to even
things out <strong>and</strong> reassure him that kissing Harry was the right choice. Maybe, maybe. But was being
so forward? Pining him against the wall, mouth inches away with hot breath to cloud his
judgment. Because he knew, had a slither of an idea that Harry was interested in him. And not in
the “we both live together <strong>and</strong> I should know your middle name,” kind of interested.
And he took that <strong>and</strong> used it as a pawn against Harry, got him to admit to things he’s normally too
stubborn to even think about. Somewhere in the spiderweb of thoughts, Louis knows that wasn’t
okay, he should’ve given Harry the time to come out with the truth all on his own. But he’s
countering his own arguments- he did tell Harry he would stop if given the comm<strong>and</strong>, so there
was a way out, <strong>and</strong> if Harry opted not to take it, then it wouldn’t fall on Louis’ shoulders.