you're cold and I burn (on hold)

“Forecast said heavy rain for tonight, I know that it kinda scares you to be here incase the lights
were to go out, so I just asked to hangout a different time.”
Louis pulls Harry in closer, his arms wrapped protectively around him, “It doesn’t scare me, no,
but I won’t complain about having you here with me. Especially not when you look so fucking
cute in this sweater, in my sweater.” Louis choses to not bring up the fact that he knows Harry’s
done this before <strong>and</strong> he’s surely aware of it. And he decides to leave the museum job out of the
conversation. It’s not about him right now.
“I thought you’d be mad. I know you, like, don’t like anyone in your room without you here, I’m
like that, too. It’s just- I didn’t think you’d be back for another hour or so..”
“Harry, if anyone else was in here while I was gone, trying on my clothes without asking I’d be
furious. But, it’s you, you’re different.” And before Harry can ask Louis to elaborate, he presses
his lips to Harry’s for the third time in his life, <strong>and</strong> it doesn’t take more than a second for his body
to be engulfed in white-hot flames.
Harry automatically kisses back. And for a second, Louis forgets this is the same boy who came
into his flat, reeking of cockiness <strong>and</strong> danger. The one who had burrowed Louis with his intense
eyes, the one who made Louis’ bones turn into jello with the simplest of words. It’s the same boy
who’d left him at the market, ditched him for sex. But now, he’s all tangled into Louis’ arms,
wearing his clothes <strong>and</strong> trying to be himself again.
And Louis admits it, he likes Harry, he did from the moment he met him despite desperately
believing he didn’t. But, he likes him even more when his walls are down <strong>and</strong> he’s not putting on
a brave face.
Harry had been hurt, broken by someone who had his heart. The damage was enough to make
Harry believe he was wrong to be the way he was. And now, he’s attempting to be that person
again, be the Harry that he was before it was crumbled to pieces <strong>and</strong> rebuilt, completely different.
The emotion is more clear in his voice, he’s more susceptible to pain, embarrassment, he’s also
more open <strong>and</strong> when Louis talks to him, it feels like Harry listens to every single word.
It means everything.
“This is unconventional, <strong>and</strong> I know that you’re probably as confused as I am over what we are,”
Louis murmurs against Harry’s lips, “but I want you to know that if you want to romp around in
just your boxers <strong>and</strong> my sweaters, you should. You always should. And if you ever want to tell
me anything, want to try anything, tell me, okay?”
Harry nods, keeps quiet as Louis continues, “And if having someone hold you like this, kiss you
like this, is what makes you more confident in being yourself again, I want to be the one to do it. I
want to be the only one to do it, if you’re okay with that.”
“You’re the only one who knows, but even if I had a hundred people willing to help me, I’d want
it to be you. I think you’re truthful in your words, <strong>and</strong> even though I seem to be a completely
different person than I was a few days ago, before you called me out, you still want to be around
me. That says more about you than anything.”
It’s gooey <strong>and</strong> cheesy <strong>and</strong> completely overdone, but Louis couldn’t give less of a shit. He’d gladly
st<strong>and</strong> here <strong>and</strong> hold Harry as he rebuilds himself yet again, but he’s going to always be here to
make sure Harry does it the right way.
“Do you feel like yourself in that leather jacket?”