Chapter Text
‘I’ll be back on Friday, don’t worry. It’s only two days’ Harry said, cupping Louis’ face with his big, big hands as if it was the most natural thing on earth. Louis wasn’t prepared to be two whole days without him. Forty eight hours away from his scent, from the heat of his skin. Louis wasn’t prepared.
He nodded slowly; closing his eyes to avoid the tears that he didn’t know were forming and gave Harry an encouraging smile. Their lips met, only for a matter of seconds. Harry didn’t want to make it too long or it would be even harder to leave.
He walked out of the apartment, carrying his brown shoulder bag filled with garments and whatnots, and made his way down the dark hall, his worn-out brown boots smiting against the red carpeted floor. Not once did he look back. Not even a wave or a smile.
Louis remained leant against the doorframe, thinking of how it used to be. Harry used to take longer with goodbyes, longer with kisses, longer with the fondling on Louis’ face that made him feel like nothing could beat this. Like nothing could ever tear them apart. Like they were unbreakable.
A brief memory of Harry turning back on his heels and running to Louis to give him a last kiss, as if he wanted to lessen the longing between them, played on Louis’ mind, but that was it. A brief memory.
When Louis focused back on the aisle in front of him, Harry was long gone. He took a step back and closed the flat’s door, the scent of Harry’s strong cologne lingering in the air, clothes and mostly his mind.
Louis walked to the kitchen and reached to the upper cabinet to grab the kettle, his red sweater rolling up, exposing his tummy. He put the kettle on and leaned against the white counter, observing how the metallic object started to shake and release steam at a slow pace.
Unconsciously, his hand travelled down his torso until it reached his tummy and rested there. Louis thought about the human inside him. He thought about how blessed he felt. He thought about Harry’s reaction when he first told him. Oh boy, Harry felt like he was on top of the world when Louis announced that he was carrying a little angel inside of him, but for some reason, Louis noticed that Harry’s passion and excitement for the 3 week old baby had been decreasing.
He didn’t even touch the bump before he left. He didn’t even whisper those sweets words like he used to, when they sat in the front porch of their rented cottage, the sun hitting his skin as he mumbled how much he loved Louis and how they would never ever fall apart.
Louis started to doubt that.
The kettle started to whistle and Louis moved to turn off the heat of the stove. As he walked towards the cupboard, he noticed his phone sitting quietly on top of the black marble surface. “Maybe he’s still on the road.”, Louis thought.
Times like these brought him anxiety. Situations like these made him feel like his heart was being tied up with 200 ropes. He always worried for Harry’s wellbeing.
If this was the past, Harry would have called Louis at least 3 times, or would already have him on speaker, his phone lazily thrown in the passenger’s seat, as Harry drove down the highway, smiling and laughing occasionally.
But this wasn’t the past. This was a whole new reality and Louis just had to get used to it. No, in fact, he didn’t. He had to fix that.
As the chamomile tea filled up the black mug, releasing a great scent, Louis came up with an idea. What if we go for a week at that cottage we rented last summer?
Louis missed how things were last summer. It all started in there. This dream that they were sharing now started there.
‘Louis?’
‘Mhm’
‘Can we have a baby?’
Harry had asked, when they sat on the ground covered by pebbles near the brook behind the classic cottage, hands fumbling with Louis’s hair, eyes pleading and showing a hint of hope. Louis had lifted his head from Harry’s lap and gave him a genuine smile, granting him that it was also his wish.
A week at the cottage would make things go back to how they were. Maybe it was all in Louis’ head. Maybe in reality, Harry was still the same person and all this was a side-effect from Louis’ longing.
****
Louis zapped the tv channels, not paying attention to the colourful images before him, and eyed his phone through the corner of his eyes. The little object still didn’t show any sign of Harry and it was driving Louis insane.
Right now he was in the position of being clingy, after the 25 texts he had sent, so calling Harry right now wasn’t even an option. Fuck that.
Out of habit, Louis reached over and quickly dialled Harry's number anyway. It went straight to voicemail and it made Louis angry.
Angry because he remembered Harry’s words from earlier. They were still ringing in his mind, like an echo that doesn’t go away. “I’ll call you as soon as I get there, okay?” Bullshit. Nothing but bullshit.
Was Louis being naïve about the unrolling of events in this exact moment? Harry would never do it. We’re having a baby, he could never do it.
Louis trusted Harry with his own life and he strongly believed that his soul mate would never ever do such thing. He needed to clear his mind and allow his husband to breath.
****
Still no call. After spending 24 hours without seeing Harry – which was driving Louis mad – Louis decided to intervene. He called him another 10 times and when he was about to hang up, Harry finally answered the call.
‘Fucking finally’, Louis growled and sat on the edge of their king-sized bed, with the sheets spread all over the place due to Louis’ insomnia. ‘Is this your definition of I’ll call you as soon as I get there? Cause if it’s not, I’m pretty damn sure you should’ve called me like 23 hours ago. Twenty three.’ he made his point and Harry stayed quiet through the whole time.
It only made Louis angrier at that precious face, with those plum lips and those deep green eyes.
‘Got nothing to say to me?’ Louis inquired and from the other end of the line came a long sigh. Louis could almost see Harry running his hand through his messy curls, trying to somehow make them coherent with each other.
‘I’m sorry’, Harry said lowly, those words rolling out of his tongue so naturally, so innocently that it only made Louis regret how he’d spoken to him earlier. Maybe he was tired from the 6 hours trip and decided to have a little nap before calling him, but he couldn’t battle through his heavy eyelids so he decided that he’d call him first thing in the morning.
Louis could already imagine the whole thing. And here he was. Shouting at him, being a fucking child about the whole situation. Right now he just wanted to kiss Harry’s face. Every single inch of that perfect face.
‘That’s okay’, Louis breathed out and allowed himself to fall back onto the mattress, ‘How was the trip?’
Trying to make small talk to cover up the fact that Louis was actually craving to be underneath Harry’s firm body right now, seemed like a brilliant plan in Louis’ mind. But it wasn’t.
He wasn’t even listening to Harry going on and on about the things he saw during his solo 6 hour journey. He had focused on how raspy Harry’s voice sounded – probably from waking up – and it made him feel excited in places he shouldn’t probably feel.
He rolled to the side and shut his eyes to try and concentrate on his husband’s words. Damn it. He couldn’t.
He needed Harry right now. More than anything.
He needed him to seat next to him on the black velvet couch in the living room, with that goofy smile of his, and plant his hand on Louis’ small bump and start talking to their bundle of joy. Nonsense things, like “One day we’ll build a snowman so big, that it’ll reach the sky” or “We’ll spend our afternoons making up knock-knock jokes”.
‘Alright, I’ll call you later, okay?’ Harry dissipated Louis’ bubble of thoughts and mumbled a simple I love you.
‘Love you too’ Louis whispered after the call had gone off and slowly rose to his feet, scratching his belly and walking away to the kitchen.
***
What are you doing? He’ll be home tomorrow; you don’t have to do this. You shouldn’t do this.
Louis’ subconscious tried to stop his actions but it was already too late. Louis had never been one to not stick with his ideas. Once, he ate a plate of fried butter just because he somehow managed to get in his head that he could do it and hold it all in. That and he also wanted to prove Harry he could do it.
“I bet you £100 that you can’t do it.”
“Get the money, I’ll get the butter.”
Awful decision. Earned him £100 though.
But this time it was different. It didn’t swirl around a stupid bet made on a sunny afternoon at the county fair, as they walked past a fried butter stand. This time, Louis was on his way to meet Harry.
3 hours down, 3 more to go.
Louis couldn’t seem to find any valuable reason to explain this whole situation, besides I need Harry. Being pregnant really did turn him into a sap. Not really. He just missed the touch and warmth of Harry’s skin, the huskiness of his voice in the morning, the way his eyes were in the dim light…. But then again, isn’t that being a sap?
Probably. But Louis didn’t care. He never did and he never will.
The radio kept playing folk music – by far not what Louis liked to hear, he was more of a free spirit and Harry’s taste in indie music had definitely influenced him – as Louis drove down the desert road, surrounded by tall pine trees whose smell oozed in the air.
Not long to go. Only 2 more hours until Louis can be reunited with the father of his baby.
****
Louis pulled up at the 4 star hotel and directed himself to the lobby, where he found a blonde lady, whose teeth could blind you with their whiteness, behind the check-in counter.
‘Good afternoon, how can I help you?’ she asked as Louis approached the black marble surface. A man sat at a black piano, playing Beethoven’s 8th sonata in C minor, his fingers floating over the piano keys like a boat floats in the water. He made it seem so effortless that Louis even considered starting to take piano lessons with the old lady that lived in the upper floor. Rosa was her name. Maybe. Louis wasn’t sure.
‘Ah yes, please. Can you tell me where my husband is staying?’ Louis bit his bottom lip and gripped the edge of the counter, hoping that it would be like in movies and the lady would actually give him the room number.
‘Of course, what’s the check in name?’ she gave Louis a smile and got ready to type in the name. That was surprisingly easy.
‘Uhm Harry Styles…’ Louis replied and leaned forward to try and have a glimpse of what the woman was doing. He couldn’t.
‘Alright, he’s staying at the room 503. Would you like to take a spare key or…?’ the lady winked at him. Clever.
‘Yeah... I’ll take the key’, Louis beamed at her and held his hand to take the key. He got on the lift and pushed on the 5th floor button. In less than 40 seconds, Louis was already walking down the corridor, looking at every door, searching for the number 503.
500…501…502…503.
He hesitated for a bit and found himself shaking, as if it was the first time he would be with Harry. Like in their first date, where Louis spent a whole week preparing himself to not shake or babble off something stupid like “I like pretzels”. That ended up happening, either way.
After 3 deep breaths, he finally opened the door and stepped inside the hotel room. Might as well have stayed outside. At the sight he got, Louis wondered why he even bothered to come.
Harry stood in front of him at the foot of the bed with a light brown haired boy who was bent over in front of him. The man whore gasped when he noticed they had company and Harry slowly turned his head, his mouth going agape when he saw who was in the room.
Louis couldn’t even move. He just stood there, fists curled into balls, knuckles turning white, face turning red with anger. Harry was quick to move, though. He got off the bed and threw on his white Klein’s laying on the floor whilst the lad accompanying him tried to cover himself up with the white bed sheet.
‘Louis… I can explain’ Harry started, but Louis just showed his both his middle fingers and left the room, shutting the door with all his strength.
He could feel the blood running through his veins, he felt the adrenaline roaming his body and he wanted to punch someone. No, scrap that. He wanted to punch Harry. He also wanted to cry. Damn hormones.
It was only when he got outside that he noticed the sound of footsteps behind him. Harry.
‘Louis wait’
‘Don’t you even dare to fucking touch me.’ Louis hissed at Harry, when he felt his hand on his forearm, sending a trail of shivers down his body. It happened every now and then.
‘Can I just explain myself?’ Harry pleaded, those green eyes begging for Louis to stay and just give him a chance. ‘Please.’.
Louis sighed and took a step back, crossing his arms over his grey sweater that Harry had given him last Christmas. He waited for Harry to get his thoughts together and think of the best explanation for what Louis had just witnessed.
Fucking prick.
‘I-I really don’t have any reasons to be doing this… God Lou, I love you more than anything and I love our baby, but… when you told me we were actually having one, I couldn’t believe it and I… I panicked. I panicked and I needed some sort of refuge from all that was happening… I wasn’t prepared. I still don’t think I am’
‘And instead of talking to me, you decide to lie and travel 6 hours on a “business trip” to come to a useless dickhead, so that he can “comfort” you about your issues? Is that it, Harry?’ Louis angrily shouted and turned towards the car.
Harry remained silent and when Louis steered the wheel to get back on the road, he saw him through the rear view mirror, kicking the pavement with his hand on his hair. It made Louis sad and all he wanted to do was cry.
So, he did. He spent the next 6 hours crying.
****
3 bloody days had passed, since Louis caught Harry… well, there’s no easy way to say this. He caught him buttfucking another guy. It made Louis want to cry and curl up in a ball on top of the bed covers, where he had spent those last days, every time he thought about it.
He needed to get out of that Harry-filled house. That’s what he did. He drove to the coast and settled in the cottage he had rented for a week. That week was supposed to mend things between him and Harry. By now they should be drinking hot cocoa by the fireplace, watching stupid cheesy romantic movies that Harry adored and somehow always persuaded Louis into watching them with him.
But they weren’t. In fact, Louis hadn’t even heard from Harry since that horrible day and he wanted to be mad. Not mad. Peeved.
He couldn’t though. There was no way he would ever, ever be mad at Harry. He could pretend to be mad yet he was only heartbroken. He didn’t expect that from Harry. He was so sweet and innocent and committed to their relationship… Deep down, Louis knew Harry felt gutted about what happened and that’s why he worried about him.
Like Louis said, he worried about Harry’s wellbeing.
When he got to the access road to the house coated with masonry, he caught a glimpse of a black range rover parked in the driveway.
He was there. He was less than 9 feet away from Louis. Amazing.
He must’ve heard Louis arriving, because Harry was now leaning against the black casement of the window, gripping a green mug, looking intently at Louis through the car’s windshield. Louis slowly hopped off and went to the trunk to grab his black trolley bag.
‘I knew you’d come here.’ Harry said abruptly, his voice low and coherent, causing Louis’s heart to come to a halt. ‘You shouldn’t be carrying weights. I don’t want our baby to go through any danger. Or you.’, he came down the 2 steps separating the front porch from the pavement in the middle of the recently trimmed lawn, and took Louis’ bag from him, his fingers gently brushing against Louis’.
Louis crossed his arms over his black sweatshirt and squinted his eyes at Harry, not saying a word, partially because he couldn’t bring himself to speak – his throat was dry and itchy – and if he could, he’d say something he would 100% regret saying. So, he chose the easy way. Make Harry believe he was ignoring him.
Harry knew him better than himself though. He could read him like a book. He turned around and carried Louis’ luggage inside, leaving the door open for the smaller boy to enter and join him.
It was darn cold outside and Louis regretted not wearing the grey sweater Harry had given him, but then again, that had been his garment for the past three days, so he clutched the black fabric tighter around him and stepped inside the house, a warmth coming from the fireplace hitting his skin, making him relax and loosen his grip around the sweatshirt.
Harry was nowhere to be seen and Louis went around the couch to go stare at the window that showed the brook in the backyard, surrounded by leaves that had fallen from the trees around it. A cloud of condensation formed in the window due to Louis’ breathing and, subconsciously, Louis’ index finger shot up to trace “H+L” in it, like in the oak tree visible from the window, where they had carved their initials last summer.
He vaguely heard Harry saying something about talking, but he didn’t turn around, he kept staring at that oak tree. The memories coming back to him, so vivid, so colourful, flooding his mind with all the happy moments they had spent there.
‘Hey’ Harry was right behind him, Louis could feel his uneven breaths on the back of his neck, which caused him to slightly turn his head to come across Harry’s piercing green eyes staring back at his blue ones. He wondered what colour their baby’s eyes would be…
Not the time for that.
‘Look, I know what I did was fucking stupid and immature… But I’m truly sorry. If I could go back and do it all again, I would. I would stay home with you and our baby’ Harry paused to feel the forming bump and Louis had to use every strength in his body to not break down right there and then, ‘and never let go of you two, because you mean the world to me. You and our baby. So, please…. I beg you, Lou, please forgive me for that stupid mistake. I’ll do whatever it takes to get you back. I just wanna be happy again, with you.’ Harry wiped his eyes, tears forming in them, threatening to spill at any given moment.
Louis wanted to cry. God, Louis wanted to just grab Harry’s face and kiss him with all his being, he wanted to tell him they’ll get through this, he wanted to tell him how much he loved him too, but for some unknown reason, Louis just turned on his heels and walked to the wooden door that lead outside, his hand reaching for the door handle.
‘Look, I want you to be happy and if,’ he continued, letting out a shaky sigh. ‘If I can't do that I'm so sorry.’ Louis released his grip on the door handle and turned around.
‘Harry-‘, he begun, but Harry shook his head.
‘Please just...I don't want you to be the one that got away. Give me...give us one more chance,’ he pleaded, eyes hopeful. ‘Just one more shot and if I can't change and I can't make you happy then you can go, all right? Just please...I need to know if we're meant to be.’
Louis looked at the floor for a brief moment, considering every little moment of his 4 year relationship with Harry. Flashbacks since their first encounter until this moment passed through Louis’ eyes and he knew it.