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Outside is rather wet. Not just wet but windy and noisy and scary and dark (besides the recently-occurring lightning). There's thunder. Loud and booming like someone banging on a bass drum or someone rolling a wheelie bin up a stone driveway. There's wind. And it keeps throwing the skinny tree branches against the window and making a tapping sound that's quite irritating or frightening depending on how many horror films you've seen. There's lightning.
Constant flashes of light brightening the pitch black sky. Not even the stars are out for tonight's events. There's rain. Not just a light pitter-patter on the roof or a drizzle or slightly heavy you see when it hasn't rained in a couple weeks. It’s loud, strong rain that would easily wake someone who has not long fallen asleep or scare someone with insomnia who is petrified of storms.
Ever since he was little, Louis was scared of thunder storms. It reminded him of mean angry people yelling and fighting. It reminded him of his parents yelling and fighting. He and Georgia - when Georgia was still living at the same house - used to hide under the blankets. And then when his dad left with Georgia, there were more storms sort of making up for what is gone. Louis didn't like that. He didn't like the reminder of yelling and fighting and his dad leaving.
When Lottie and Fizzy were born, they'd do the same thing because Louis still had that reminder. Then Phoebe and Daisy joined them all under the comforter of Louis' small bed, just lying there, making each other feel safe. Louis liked that.
Now Louis was grown up. 22 years old and alone. Well not really alone. Harry is in the room right next to his but probably sound asleep. So Louis is alone and scared. He's scared because all he can hear is his parents screaming at each other and twigs tapping on glass and water splashing on the road below and booming from kilometres away in the sky and it's all too much.
It's too loud and busy for 2 am. Does nature even sleep? Louis thinks. But it's not a calm thought like you might have read it. It's more frantic and almost impossible to be answered because it's been repeated over and over 50 times in the last minute. He's not even sure if the question has meaning or makes sense anymore. One more clash on thunder and Louis' in tears.
It's all coming back to him. His parents throwing things and screaming and arguing. Louis was never sure what they were disagreeing about but he hated it. Each clap of thunder was a smashed plate or glass or lamp or slamming of the front door.
Each flash of lightning was a light being turned on then off again in hesitation or an idea being spoken then shot down or a streak of hope that things were going to be okay then turning dark almost instantly. Each raindrop was a tear splashing onto the wooden floor or a shirt or bed sheets. Everything about storms reminded Louis of his worst childhood experience.
So there's Louis - curled up on his mattress with doona over his head and messy hair and sobs escaping his lips. It doesn't help that the lightning has gotten brighter and his bed is pushed against the wall with the window and he doesn't have any blinds or curtains because the stupid deliver company can't come on time.
Louis is alone and just needs someone to soothe him and hold him and press kisses to his hair and whisper that everything will be fine. In all honesty, Louis feels pathetic. Crying over a bit of water and light and noise. But he's also crying over something that happened over 15 years ago. And it's perfectly fine. He has every right to be traumatized about this.
In the next room over, Harry has just fallen asleep. He was worried about Louis. He knows about Louis' problems with thunder storms. There was one when they were all at the bungalow 2 years ago and Harry knew how to calm Louis down.
But he's worried so much it exhausted him. Now he's worrying about Louis is his dreams. Tossing and turning might be an overused expression but he's literally twisting himself in his sheets from moving around so much.
Lightning strikes near and there's a whimper, strangled sob, a door opening and quick footsteps getting closer to Harry's door. Louis practically sprints to Harry bed before the next rumble of thunder. He climbs under the covers and pushed himself against Harry's warm body. Harry wakes up startled but then recovers pressing Louis closer.
"It’s okay, Lou. I'm here. It's okay, baby." Harry's arm wrap around Louis' small and shaking body. He has his hand carding through Louis' usually feathery and soft hair but now mattered with sweat. He picks up the smaller boys' body, sits up and cradles him in his arms. Louis' still shaking and his wet cheeks stand out from the every now-and-then the flashes of light coming from outside.
Harry slowly rocked him back and forth in an attempt to calm Louis down. "Louis it's okay. Talk to me. What's wrong?" Louis shook his head. Harry kissed his forehead. "Please? I'm trying to help."
He took a long, shaky breath, "I’m-m ju-just scared of-f the st-storm. It-t reminds m-me of-f m-my dad le-eaving u-us." Louis hiccupped, both from shaking with fear and speaking through his sobs.
"It's okay. It'll be all right. I'm here. You've got me. It's all right, Lou." Harry cooed lips still on his forehead.
They stayed like that for a few minutes, Louis flinching at each bolt of lightning or crash of thunder. Louis looked so exposed and small like this and in a very selfish way Harry liked it. He liked being the one there for Louis not Louis whimpering and crying. The wind had almost stopped but the rain had gotten harder. The street below their apartment on the 3rd floor was flooded a tiny bit and the gutters were like a rapid river. The streetlight lights were washed away.
You could just see the faint drops of rain captured in the blurred light. The stars and moon were nowhere to be seen; hidden behind the thick, grey clouds. It was the most rain they've had in months but there was always the on and off showers and dreary London weather.
The silence was nice, however. Just the comfort of Harry's breathing and Harry's smell and his bed and his warmth and his presence and his lips still on Louis' forehead. It was enough. He could stay like that for ever. Just the two of them laying there, arms around each other.
"Let me get you some tea. Would you like that?" Harry said softy after a while. Louis barely nodded. He curled into himself and held tightly to Harry's pillow. It was warm like home and smelt like his shampoo. Harry returned with 2 cups in his hands.
"Scooche over, Lou." Harry placed the two cups on the paint-chipped window sill and pulled the covers over both of them. Louis instantly found his way into the gap between Harry's torso and arm so Harry could wrap it around Louis body. Louis reached over and took a sip of his tea. A warm feeling washed over him. It was hard to explain but he knew this feeling.
Louis was in love with Harry. He had been ever since X Factor but just didn't know it. He wanted to kiss Harry but just didn't know it. When Louis met Harry back in the X Factor bathrooms right before is audition, he felt the same weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was homey and spread through his whole body like when you're drinking a hot drink. It's was like he took a sip of a freshly made cup of tea, swallow it down his throat and it just released a burst of warmth in his tummy - eliminating every cold feeling he had.
From there, it seeped into his veins, mixed with his blood then sent the warm feeling everywhere in his body. When he touched Harry, it felt like 10 boiling hot cups of tea. No one else made him feel that way. It was incredible and Louis didn't know what it was but now sitting in Harry's lap in complete silence he felt it again like every other moment around Harry. There was only one thing that could be describe as what he felt - love. Every time they touched was like the hot tea and Louis wondered if Harry felt it too.
Harry was most definitely in love with Louis. The amount of times he moaned to the other boys for help or struggled to fight back on reaching out to Louis and just touching him in any way he could. Harry believed in true love like anyone would believe in air. He knew he was in love with Louis. He knew he was in with Louis right now. He knew last night. He knew when they were on tour last month.
He knew when they were at Louis' family’s house for Christmas in 2013. He knew when they went to Spain for a holiday in 2012. He knew when the boys said he was in love with Louis. He was in love with Louis since that time they met in the X Factor bathrooms right before his audition. Hell, he knew as soon as he laid eyes on him while they were waiting in the line. He knew he was in love with Louis right now.
Looking at Louis felt like an Ed Sheeran song. How amazingly written they were yet so simple. How right they felt right just listening to them. How the lyrics will always somehow relate to your situation and you feel as though Ed was singing to you. How it touches your soul and heart and how it makes you see everything that was right in front of you that were completely obvious but invisible before.
It was bubbly and absolutely incredible. And you just want more and more and you can't get enough. Then the bubbly feeling makes your whole body go numb and it feels like you're floating. Like the bubbles have possessed your body and is now carrying you away. It was actually what it felt like to look at Louis. Just this light feeling that is indescribable. Harry knew it was love and he wondered if Louis felt the same way.
He knew just looking into Louis’ eyes. Beautiful pools of the most mesmerising blue with the smallest fleck of green. They were like the ocean. Harry was practically swimming in them and the longer he looked, the more he felt like he was drowning. Not bad drowning by any means – good drowning (if there is thing) where you felt like your whole body was as light as air, flowing effortlessly with the tide. Just this feeling that looking into Louis’ eyes gave him was overwhelming and suffocating in the best way.
Now that Louis' crying had stopped, the rain settled down and his breathing was back to normal, he put the cup back on the window sill and lifted his head to look up at Harry. Harry was looking right back at him with small smile on his face. There it was. That warm feeling reaching to the tips of his toes.
He reached up with one hand and cupped the curly boy's cheek. Louis looked into Harry's eyes and he swore nothing could be more gorgeous than the owner of the eyes. Harry’s were like a mossy, emerald forest of that Louis could explore and get lost in for hours and gave him an overpowering urge to kiss the living lights out of him.
There was probably a ten second time period where all of this happened by it felt so much faster.
“Harry,” his voice was gravelly from crying however, it was kind of intoxicating, “just let me try something, yeah?” Louis’ eyes flicked down to Harry’s lips for a split second before returning his gaze back. “Don’t kill me…just let me try something, okay?”
“Of course, Lou. But what are you -" Louis closed his eyes and pressed his lips against Harry's. There was barely any pressure applied but that Tea Feeling was there. It was like 30 000 cups of warmth and Louis knew it was love.
Harry let out an audible gasp and it was practically too much for Louis. His lips are on Harry’s; Harry's lips are on Louis'. They're not moving - just still. Bodies intertwined, a tiny palm on a cheek, large hands on the small of a back, just making sure what they're doing is okay. Although both of their eyes are closed, they could tell that their worlds have stopped.
There’s lightning is painted in the sky; the rain falling onto the waiting concrete has paused. It's like someone has taken a photograph or the camera froze but that's okay because this is what they have imagined for years.
Their tea is left abandoned and cold, Harry's not even touched. They wanted to savour the moment. Remember it as much as possible. Something they could tell their grandchildren about. They could hear each other's heart beating.
The only thing still moving and keeping them alive was all they could hear. Louis' lips were thin but soft and addicting. Harry's were soft as well but more full. Harry, of course, smelt like his buttermilk body wash and a very intoxicating musk. Louis smelt like his vanilla candles and salty, dried tears.
Harry made the first move by pressing hard, feverish kisses to Louis' lip, Louis catching them with his occasionally. But they both wanted more - they needed more. Harry tilted his head and parted his lips. Louis immediately responded and slipped his tongue into Harry's mouth.
If any of their fans had seen them right now, they would have gone ballistic. But no one was there to watch. They are the only two in their apartment and everyone in their complex is probably asleep. Nothing could have interrupted them and it's wonderful.
Louis then started sucking on Harry's lower lip which Harry responded with a throaty moan. Louis slid his hand to Harry's hair, tugging on it lightly. Harry's hands have moved from Louis' back to hips, trying to contain Louis from grinding because he really doesn't want to get a boner right now.
The kiss itself is amazing. It is home; it's a warm cup of tea. They are home; they are a warm cup of tea. There's tongue and teeth and moaning and hands roaming just like they have wanted to do for so long. They pulled apart to breathe and rested their foreheads together.
"Harry, I don't know how to tell you this," Louis whispered, his voice slightly croaky from crying and disuse, "but I'm in love with you and I can't do anything about that."
"Louis, you can -," Harry chuckled, "- you can kiss me again because I'm in love with you, too."
So he did. And it's like every Ed Sheeran song ever recorded on repeat. It's like every perfectly made cup of tea they’ve ever drunk. It's like the perfect home that Louis didn't quite have at an early age but that's okay because nothing matters right now but this.