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It’s not exactly an abnormal thing as per se. There were a few immortal beings walking around on Earth. It just so happens that Harry wasn’t one of them. Harry’s father fell in love with a human woman, not one of angelic or demonic blood. He’s not mad about it. He loves his mother, maybe not his father so much, but he doesn’t think he could handle being immortal.
Louis however, his father did fall for a woman of angelic blood. And the thing Louis and Harry bonded over the first time they met, was their mutual dislike for their fathers. The only way for an immortal child to be born, is for an angelic or demonic woman to have a child with a human man. Angels and demons are born only by chance, and the numbers dwindle by the year. Those of immortality can bear children, but it’s rare and most chose not to.
Louis and Harry have been dating for five months, and Louis told Harry a few days into their relationship. So many people are against dating those of immortality, that Louis wasn’t going to risk something never getting anywhere if Harry was one of those people. And thank the gods he wasn’t.
They admitted their love quite early on, and it scares Louis everyday just how much he loves Harry. Louis is 628 years old, and Harry is 23, quite the difference, and Harry honestly loves it. He’s curious, very much so, and he likes to ask Louis questions about his life whenever he thinks of them. Whether it be when they’re together, when on the phone, or texting. Harry has a running list on his notes app that he ticks off, so he doesn’t forget the questions he’s already asked. Louis finds it hopelessly endearing.
“Louiiisss.” Harry called from the couch in Louis' living room. He has his head hanging over the arm upside down, watching Louis prepare the Chinese they ordered.
“What’s the question today then babe?” Louis smiles and dips down to peck Harry on his way back in, plates full off food in his hands.
“How did you know I have a question?” the food smells delicious and Harry turns himself around to face Louis properly.
“That’s your question voice.” Louis says with a grin in Harry’s direction, and Harry smiles a little too hard at that.
Harry huffs with a small playful pout while picking up his plate full of food. “Alright then. Who was the first person you told about being immortal?”
They both stuff some chicken fried rice into their mouths, chewing slowly as Louis ponders the question and his answer. “I think it was my best friend at the time, Niall. It must have been some time in the late 1300’s, maybe 1390 ish? We were really young I remember that. Not much else. I remember Niall, dearly, he’s one of the few I do remember from that long ago. I’ve met so many people.” It’s a long answer just as Harry hoped. Sometimes Harry gets a few sentences, and other’s a full story. Harry much prefers when it’s a long story as his answer.
Harry whispers, “How many people have you met Lou?” before leaning over to kiss Louis' cheek gently.
“God, that’s a big one,” Louis starts softly. “I couldn’t even guess a number. Could be thousands, maybe millions, I don’t know. I think I’ll always remember Niall though. It was so common back then, to be immortal, and he was one of the people who didn’t care that he wasn’t. he was considered different, and he wore it like a scarf,” Louis continues, smiling wider at the memories. “I’ll always remember, he used to say, ‘I’ll know what’s after all this before any of you do, and I think that’s the luckiest thing.’ He wasn’t scared of anything that boy, he loved living his life just like I did, to the fullest, even though he knew his end was a lot closer than mine. He was really special. I couldn’t have asked for a better first best friend.” It’s teeth-rotting how fond Louis sounds when he talks about Niall.
Harry used to have an ugly envy for Niall when Louis first told stories of him. He got to see Louis when he was young, when he was still figuring out the abilities he had. There aren’t any pictures, obviously, so Harry only has the spare explanations of Louis from Louis himself. He’s well over that emotion now. Harry is thankful he had Niall, someone there who showed him it’s okay to be different. Harry thinks Niall would be envious of him because he gets to see how Louis is right now.
“How could it be common back then but now now?” Harry asks, and honestly, it’s a well overdue question.
“well, nothing lasts forever. I do have a death date; I just don’t know when it is. People say immortal, but it’s more living a lot longer than everyone else. One of my earliest girlfriends was immortal too. She was a lot older than me; She’d be in her mid-thousands if she was here today. We didn’t date long, but I found out she died maybe one hundred and fifty something years after we stopped dating. It doesn’t last forever. Sure, we could probably live longer, what with modern medicine, but it wasn’t common to live very long way back when anyway. People fought in wars, saw the world get worse before there was any signs of getting better. Few liked the thought of being immortal.” Harry doesn’t particularly enjoy some of the stories.
Louis looked up sheepishly, grinning at Harry in a way that said, ‘please change the subject.’ Harry quickly took it in his stride, “How many girlfriends have you had?” Harry whispers it so quietly with his nose practically buried in his food.
Louis snorts and chuckles at his silly boyfriend. “Is that you getting all jealous on me lovely? You don’t need to be,” Louis reassures, reaching out a tucking a stray curl behind Harry’s ear. “You know I’ve had my fair share of girlfriends, boyfriends, partners, the lot. I can’t think of a number. I can say who meant more to me, only a few by name, but Harry you’re my here and now. You mean everything to me.” And fuck alright, that’s more than good enough for Harry.
He just giggles quietly, smiling into his food and eating the rest of it in silence. They sit comfortably, Louis' record player spinning some of his favourite old songs. Harry’s come to know most of them by now, Louis doesn’t particularly like the style some modern artists have gone down. Call him old school and you’d be right.
A Queen song starts drifting through the air, Louis smirking to himself as the lyrics ‘I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things’ rings into his ears. “Come here lover boy.” He sing songs, discarding his plate to the table and grabbing Harry's hand. Louis drags them to the middle of the room, holding both of Harry’s hands as they start dancing around the space they have.
‘Ooh, let me feel your heartbeat (grow faster, faster)’
Louis pulls them around in circles, Harry following with a massive smile on his face. Dimples out with eye crinkles to match, They watch each other enjoying the song, Louis mouthing along and Harry just grinning and grinning and grinning.
It’s all insanely dumb and teenage and silly, but they love it, and relish in it, and god Harry's in love with him.
‘That’s because I’m a good old-fashioned lover boy’
The song ends with an abrupt cymbal, as they both collapse back onto the couch in a tangle of their limbs. Louis brings Harry up against his chest, their chests rising and falling quickly as they attempt to catch their breath. “I love you yeah?” Louis pants into Harry’s curls, kissing him softly there a few times before letting out one big sigh as his breathing goes back to normal.
Harry closes his eyes and grips Louis arms that are around him tighter. “I love you too Lou.” He answers, smoothing his hands over Louis' and smiling privately to himself. They sit quietly for a while, just holding each other and allowing a soft breeze to course through the room and bring the music to their ears.
**
It’s the day of their ten-month anniversary when Harry officially moves in with Louis. Half, if not most, of his stuff had already been at Louis' house anyway. The house he’s lived in for thirty odd years at this point. Louis has lived all over the world, knows every language, and watched the way they change through generations. The decision to move to london those years ago was one of his best. It brought along his perfect boyfriend (once he moved to London in adulthood) after all.
They’re standing in the middle of their joined lounge when the question comes to Harry's mind. Louis' standing on his tippy toes behind Harry so he can reach his shoulder and rest his chin there. Does he really need to be this blinking tall?
Harry pulls Louis arms tight around his waist and sways them gently. “Did you date a boy or girl first?”
Louis immediately breaks into a whole story, “Oh Jesus, my first girlfriend was a whole ordeal. She wasn’t immortal and was absolutely petrified of dating someone who was. She told me that almost every day.” Louis laughs into Harry’s ear, before kissing right
“Why did she date you then?”
Louis chuckles, “She said I was the cutest boy in the village, yes village it was the 1400’s, and she didn’t want something like that getting in the way if I was it for her. I wasn’t” Harry barks out a laugh, covering his mouth and squeezing his eyes shut. That’s Louis' favourite laugh. “She actually ended up with Niall. She was a really great friend of mine to be fair. We only dated a few weeks in private before she was to be married off. She was lucky, I suppose, to actually love the person she ended up with, pretty rare back then. Her and Niall were really great together.” Louis squeezes Harry a little tighter, accurately sensing Harry’s unease. He often forgets Louis can talk about times like the 1400’s, where human rights were exceedingly rare.
“That’s the first question today baby, you feeling alright?” Louis teases, stretching his neck to kiss Harry’s cheek.
“I have more!” Harry answers with a sure nod, wracking his brain for the one he thought of earlier while moving one of his lounge chairs in. “Oh yeah! What was it like dating your first boyfriend? Like, did you have to hide or anything?” It’s a question Harry has asked variations of before.
Louis still answers him. Like always. “It was weird back then. It was less frowned upon for an immortal person to date someone of the same sex. Still criticised and judged, but less so than someone mortal. Which is so stupid and fucked up, why should it be different?” Louis sighs and calms his tone back down to a relaxed one. “But it was. My first boyfriend, we were both scared. He was mortal and also in his first gay relationship. It was a lot of reassurance and one step forward, two steps backwards business. It was really nice though, different than what I have known.” Louis lets a small smile onto his face, nuzzling into the top of Harry’s shoulder blades.
“I was a fair bit older than him, obviously didn’t look it, but he was in his early thirties. I don’t really remember him as much as I wish. I’ll always remember him more than others, considering he was my first boyfriend.” Louis' face screws up, his nose wrinkling and his eyebrows furrowing. “I wish I could think of his face.” He takes another pause, squeezing his eyes shut and tutting. “Ah, Jerimiah. That was his name.” Louis whispers, before carrying on.
“He was so broken, I can’t remember all the reasons why, but he was. We both helped each other.” Harry breaks out in a proud smile. Only his Louis could do all this good even with the ability to do practically anything he wants. All Louis has ever showed is good.
They move to the kitchen after, working around each other to pre-prepare dinner. After 639 years, Louis knows his fair share about cooking, and refuses to use anything that’s not natural. (He does enjoy chocolate bars, but that’s his secret treat to share with Harry on the couch before bed). They make a chicken ceasar salad, putting it in the fridge for later.
It’s cold in November and Harry just loves the cold. So, they bundle up in long shirts, jumpers, big fluffy coats, and a scarf each. London seems dry to so many people, but to Louis, cities are places to start new. He’s lived in London a few times, when the buildings weren’t so tall and when people were friendlier. But after ninety years in a rural cottage with a minimal amount of people around, a city is exactly what he needed.
They hold hands as they weave through the streets and people. Cars rush by and doors to tall towers open and close. Yet, in their bubble, it feels like it’s just them. Just the two of them enjoying an evening where their breaths come out in white puffs and their hands keep each other’s bodies warm.
Harry asks another question when they’re sitting on a bench in front of the Thames. “Who did you love the longest?” He tries to say it like he doesn’t care for the answer, but Louis knows his boy, and he can tell he’s desperate for the answer.
Louis tries to keep the same casual tone in his answer. “I was I think 264 when I met him. His name was David, and he was immortal too. We were together until I was 403 and he was 794. 139 years that was, I loved him, a lot, and he loved me too. There wasn’t one specific reason why we stopped. We both just drifted and fell out of love. No one’s fault, he’s gotta be one thousand and something by now.” Louis smirks, and almost chuckles “Old hag.” Surprising Harry.
“What?” He sputters, his face showing his astonishment.
Louis grins playfully. “I used to say that to him because he was the first person I was with who was older than me. I dated either mortals or younger immortals up until him.”
Harry long ago got over his slight jealousy when other people loving his Louis came up. He understands that the memories Louis can recall are cherished and loved by him. Immortals are known for their impeccable memories, but time steals more than some want to allow.
**
The morning sun shines on your skin
‘Cause your white curtains, they are paper thin
Windows open, I can feel the breeze
But we’re safe here under the sheets
It’s a Sunday morning, day has just broken, and the sun is rising along London’s skyline. Their room gives Harry the perfect view of the bright colours streaming out onto the world.
Louis is still fast asleep, Harry only woken up because of the curtains that were forgotten to be closed the night before. harry pulled Louis' body over to his when he woke up, lifting his head carefully into his lap when he sat up.
He threads his fingers through his hair, fiddling with the strands and watching the way Louis moves in his sleep. He hums a few songs to himself quietly. Songs Louis has played, songs Harry has on his phone, songs that just come to mind.
I don’t ever wanna leave
I’ll watch you sleep
and listen to you breathe, ooh-ooh
I don’t ever wanna leave
I’ll watch you sleep
I’ll watch you sleep
Louis breathes so calmly, his back and chest rising and falling in a rhythm. He’s beautiful. Harry could and would choose to be in this moment a million times over. His body shows years of experiences, different reasons for each scar, mark, difference. And it’s beautiful, extraordinary, perfect.
I never get bored lookin’ at you
‘Cause every time I see somethin’ new
like the scar on your spine
you fell off your roof when you were nine
you’ve lived a life before me
He’s lived many lived before Harry. Met thousands more people than Harry could even imagine. Experienced things Harry can barely think about. Louis is so different than someone Harry thought he’d fall in love with, while also being the perfect and only person Harry could ever want.
“You’ve lived lives before me,” Harry whispers down at his boy, scratching a pulling gently at his hair. “But my whole life will be lived with you.” And he’s okay with that. He really is.
Louis wakes up half an hour later, and they spend a good hour in bed cuddling, sharing kisses, and chatting quietly. A Sunday means relaxing and lots of gross sickly couple-y things. And that’s exactly what they plan on doing.
**
Harry’s note of question’s he’s asked grows monumentally by the day. It takes him several minutes just to scroll down to the bottom to see the very first question he ever wrote down. ‘How old are you?’ it says. That was over two years ago now. So, when that was asked, Louis was well into his 639th year, now he’s 642 as of today.
“Happy Birthday my love.” Harry whispers into Louis' ear when he wakes up. Apparently, hundreds of years of waking up at different stupid times, Louis is more than content to let his body wake him up. His body eventually became Harry on his workdays, but Louis doesn’t mind that. Not one bit.
Louis does work, he creates beautiful art pieces in assorted styles for different people who ask. But he’s had much time to grow a fortune. He’s well off, shall we say.
“Humph, is that today already?” Louis smiles, rubbing at his eyes with small, closed fists, Harry fonding a lot harder than he’ll admit to anyone other than Louis.
“Christmas Eve, your Birthday, another year watching the world grow.” Not even the old and wise one, yet Harry’s the one saying the poetic and soppy things.
Louis notices the tray of a fresh fry up and warm tea at the end of the bed and grins. “You’re perfect, thank you.” He breathes, pulling Harry down by his neck and kissing his pretty lips.
Considering its late December, the room is cold but not stale. The window is open the tinniest crack, allowing a breeze with a bite to course through the room. But they’re bundled up in thick long pyjamas and their largest duvet in the house. And Harry is just a really warm person in general and he’s all Louis needs to keep the cold away.
“Shut the window for me baby?” Louis asks anyway, because it’s his birthday and he knows Harry will do it, just for him.
They spend as long as they want in bed, eating breakfast and licking up the savoury taste of each other’s lips. There’s a thin layer of frosty snow outside, reflecting into the room and covering them in a sheen of pure white. Harry can’t help but watch Louis, practically bathing in the light shining on him. He’s beautiful. Everything about him is beautiful.
They fall into an easy and comfortable silence, which Harry breaks by whispering, “You’re beautiful, you know that?” quietly into Louis' ear. “Every single thing you show me is beautiful,” Harry carries on, the adorable grin on louis' face pulling one out onto Harry’s face.
“So, everything then? Because Harry, I show you everything I can, and I’ll continue doing that. You’re so different than anyone I’ve ever seen, ever met. Ever loved.” Louis' soft but sure voice slices Harry right down the middle. Completely in half and Louis can see every millimetre of him.
“You’re the love of my life Louis, and I’m fine with not being the love of yours.” Harry does the exact same back to him, cuts him in half and Louis lets him. Louis would let him do anything if it meant he got to see his smile.
They’re breaking each other apart and putting it all back together again. They are where they want and need to be but never could be until now.
“But you are,” Louis answers, and it’s said with such certainty that Harry can’t help but agree. “You’re the love of my life too Harry.” It’s whispered and quiet, Harry only catching it because every shred of his attention is on Louis, just like it always is. “I’ve never loved someone the way I love you. Not one single person will ever come anywhere near as close as you. I remember a lot of my loves, some by name, and some by face, But you Harry, you I will never forget. If I met you the day I was born, I would still remember you now. You are everything I could ever ask for in someone to love. There is nothing about you that I’d ever wish to forget. There is nothing about you that’s I’d ever allow myself to forget. Harry you are the love of my life.” They’re both crying a little now, as Louis cups Harry’s face with sure hands and climbs into his lap to wrap his smaller body around him.
They’re one now. They’ve been one since the moment they met, and they’re going to be one for eternity.
Even when Harry inevitably dies, even when Louis is left to mourn yet another person he’s loved and lost, they’ll still be one. But it’ll be so different. Because for the first-time, Louis has to lose the very person who made him realise, he’s whole.
For so long, Louis saw love as finding his other half, his better half, to make him whole. But loving Harry has made him realise that he was whole they entire time.
Maybe the morning of Louis' birthday isn’t the best time for them to be admitting undying loves and making the other cry. But they aren’t exactly a normal or very common couple. It just makes them more real.
**
It’s christmas morning when Louis looks at it for the second time. It’s stored away in the only spot Louis knows Harry won’t find it (the attic door, he’s scared to go up there). It’s only the day after the whole love admissions and crying in before before birthday presents…thing. Louis has had it for a few days, without a proper plan on how to give it to Harry. But everything to do with Harry just comes to mind in the moment, like his mind has been preparing to love Harry since he was born.
The reflections shining off it bounce around in his eyes. It’s perfect for Harry. Not too flashy but also not too subtle. You’d be able to see it amongst his other rings and say, ‘Yep that’s an engagement ring.’ It’s a sterling silver band with pristine white diamonds running around to the middle where a blue Topaz stone interconnects with a green one. Harry has always loved the way their eyes complimented each other, and Louis knew he’d love that on an engagement ring.
Anyone else would be nervous, but Louis is just excited. He’s never been married, never even been engaged. Most of his mortal loves underfoot that he wasn’t one for marriage, and his immortal ones knew there was no point when they knew no type of love could survive hundred, maybe thousands, of years.
Until now, that is. Louis is certain that if Harry was immortal, he’d be able to spend the rest of their days, no matter how many, loving each other more and more every day. Harry is that one person who makes him want to marry. And he’s the only one he can ever see himself asking this question.
And he knows Harry won’t be expecting this. Because even though Louis felt it when they met, he still told him he didn’t see himself getting married. Harry, although quiet upset (he had always dreamed of his wedding), found a way to be alright with it. Because Louis was it for him, and he was sure of it. He didn’t need a wedding, because he knew he’d have Louis either way. And it’s not that wasn’t one for weddings, he just wasn’t very fond of the marriage part. Of course, Harry came along and changed that.
Louis finds Harry bent over two cups next to the microwave. “My darling, what are you doing?” Louis can’t help but smile bashfully at his silly boyfriend, shirtless and shivering while clearly making them hot chocolates.
“I’m being a good boyfriend.” Harry grumbles: his eyebrows knitted together as he poked his finger into the milk to check if it’s hot enough.
“But you’re not in a shirt and it’s cold.” Louis points out, sliding up behind Harry and wrapping himself over his back.
Louis is wearing a shirt. It’s thin but long sleeved, because he knows they’re going to be sitting in front of the fire and by the tree for the next two hours, so he’s going to get hot. “Don’t act like you’re complaining,” Harry says as Louis starts dragging his lips down his spine, kissing his soft skin gently and making him shudder. “See, not complaining.” Harry whispers, placing one big hand over Louis' arms.
They make their way into the lounge once Harry’s happy with the hot chocolates. The ring is heavy in Louis' joggers pocket, the faint shape of a square box showing through the material. But all Louis can focus on is how pretty and calm Harry looks.
This is their third Christmas together. They usually spend boxing day with Harry’s family in Cheshire, then the week before New Year’s day somewhere in a hotter country before New Year’s in front of the London Eye.
“Sad question, and I apologise before I ask it,” Harry says while sitting down next to the tree and filing through the small assortment of gifts under there.
“You know you’re allowed to ask anything Haz, about anyone.” Louis adds just before Harry can ask it.
“Okay but I’m still sorry and you don’t have to answer.” All Louis does is nod and reach out to Harry with grabby hands. Harry smiles and pulls Louis over to him, their bodies together as they look at the tree. “Do you remember your mum?” Harry whispers, kissing Louis' cheek and neck right after asking him.
Louis smiles down at Harry. “She’s the only person I can properly fully remember. I can tell you every single thing about her with ease. She’s the only person I won’t allow myself to forget anything about. I don’s have pictures of her, obviously, but I can describe everything about her. From every day she spent in my life.” Louis says it easily, like he’s reminding himself that he knows she’s still there in his head.
“Jay, right?” Harry says quietly, watching the way Louis' face changes. Louis isn’t one to talk about his family. He has two siblings, both girls, and he’s in touch with them. He’s lucky to have others who remember what his life was like when they were kids. Others who remember his mum.
Louis nods his head and carries on. “Lottie and Fizz remember her too. I suppose we all remember certain things more than the others, but together we can recall every bit of her. She’d never going to die to us. No one knows what happens after life, not one single person, but I like to think I’ll see her first. She’s an angel, not a demon, I like to think she’ll be right there when I go.” It’s absolutely beautiful the way Louis talks about his mum.
“You’re so brave.” Harry whispers into Louis' ear, kissing the skin he can reach comfortably, then the skin he has to stretch for.
“I wish you could have met her. She would have absolutely adored you.” Louis smiles, kissing Harry slowly after pulling back and sighing happily.
Harry gazes at him, feeling his whole soul pulling towards him. “I love you” It comes with a peck before Harry reaches over to pick up the first present and give it to Louis. “Merry Christmas my lovely.”
They spend a good two hours slowly opening presents while chatting and relaxing in between. The box is still in Louis' pocket, and he can feel the moment on its way. They’ve gone through three hot chocolates each and are now on cups of tea. Louis wants to do it now.
Harry is laying outstretched on the floor, his back to Louis' chest as they watch old Christmas movies, and the fire keeps their skin warm. And the other keeps their soul warm.
Louis grabs the remote ready to mute it and lowers his voice. “Haz my love, I have one more present for you.” He mutes the tv and dives his hand into his pocket to pull out the box, keeping it away from Harry’s view.
“You’ve changed so much about the way I think and see things. I didn’t think I’d ever meet someone who could sit in the centre of me so effortlessly, yet still ask me every question as if you’re trying to get there. You were there from the second I saw you. Turn around baby.” And Harry does. He turns around to look at Louis with his eyes and face displaying emotions he never thought could be aimed at him.
“I told you on our third date that there was practically no chance we’d get married,” Harry may be ugly crying. “And you understood and took it in your stride and were fine with it. I don’t know how you did it, but you did. Harry Edward Styles, there is no other person I could ever dream up that could be more perfect for me than you are. You are every single thing no one deserves, yet you sit here, looking like the cutest boy with wide eyes and a pretty smile, and you’re just my perfect person. Harry I am horribly in love with you, and I want to be your husband.”
The crinkling of the fire and the blood rushing in his ears is all Louis can hear when Harry looks back at him with tears in his eyes. Apparently, he is a little (a lot) nervous. “Louis,” Harry starts, breathless and with a sob in his voice. “Of course, I will! Oh my god.” And then Harry’s putting his hand out in front of Louis.
Most of his fingers have rings on, and he changes them around sometimes. But Louis has always noticed he’s never put one on his ring finger. That served to break Louis' heart when he first noticed, but it only spurred him on to be giddy late on when he realised that ‘Yes, one day I’ll marry this perfect boy.’
“Oh my god it’s beautiful Louis! I love it.” Louis doesn’t even have a second to react before Harry is lunging onto him and kissing him happily. “I love love love you so much!” Harry chants, hugging Louis as close as possible and kissing him over and over.
“I love you more than I can ever love someone.” And that just tops it all off. Harry starts crying again with the biggest smile on his face. all for his fiancé.
**
They do get married. A year later (Harry wanted it to be absolutely perfect and near Christmas to mark the engagement. And Louis, as always, completely agreed). They spend many anniversaries in front of the fire with hot chocolates, watching the same movie Louis interupted to propose. They love their little traditions.
They now have a little cat to celebrate with too. Cotton likes to snuggle up with Louis in the evenings while they wait for Harry to get home. She wiggles her way in between them in their bed at night and purrs right into Louis' face sometimes. But they love her.
Harry still asks his questions. He’s still forever curious with Louis' long life, even if he’s beginning to run out of questions he hasn’t already asked. Louis often smiles fondly at him once he’s asked a question. “Love,” He’d say, “You’ve asked that one already.” Before telling him the answer anyway. He can’t help but indulge his silly husband.
They’re just under six years into their marriage when their little baby Noah is introduced into their lives. She’s born on the 28th of September and Louis and Harry get to celebrate their sixth wedding anniversary, on the 14th of December, with her. And Cotton, who has taken on some sort of odd mother role with her.
When Harry’s family came round to meet her for the first time, Cotton had to sniff them all again (as if she hadn’t already done that when she initially joined the Tomlinson-Styles house), in order to deem them all acceptable to see Noah. Cotton barely leaves her side, sleeping in her cot a lot of the time, at a safe distance, and sitting close enough behind Louis and Harry as they care for her. It’s sweetly endearing if not slightly annoying sometimes.
She’s at school as a newly found seven-year-old when Louis and Harry have their biggest fight to date. They’ve spoken about this a few times, never letting it get too far in an attempt to keep a fight like this one at bay and away from Noah. But it’s got to happen, and they both know it.
“Harry, you know how I feel about this!” Louis seethes, pacing around the lounge and ringing his hands through his hair.
“that doesn’t mean I like it. Louis, I’m not letting you figure out how to die just because you know I will one day.” Harry shouts back, slapping his hands on the sides of his legs in frustration.
“You’re not listening to me! I know I’m going to die too. I just don’t know when or how long from now. I don’t think I can live however many hundreds of years after you’ve died!” It was meant to sound sweet, which is what Louis thought when he first brought it up a few years ago.
“Your life doesn’t need to end just because mine will. You’ve got years after me and I want you to live them!” Harry, clearly, did not see it that way.
“Harry I can’t imagine watching you die, then having to watch Noah die too!” All Louis said was he wanted to grow old with Harry, properly, and then they found themselves here, screaming at each other at midday on a random Wednesday.
“Louis but you’re immortal you have longer to live. You could life to three thousand. I can’t be the reason you don’t” Harry’s gotten quieter now, his voice wobbling as he holds back his tears, facing Louis who is fully crying.
“I can’t do it all again after you,” Louis matches Harry’s volume, stepping closer to him. “I can’t imagine ever being able to love someone the way I love you. I don’t want to! You, Noah, Cotton for god’s sake!” Cotton’s head pops up from where she’s sleeping on the back doorstep. “You all mean everything to me. I don’t want to lose you all then have to live hundreds more years with only the memories of you.” They’re both quiet now, bodies close and chests heaving. Cotton slowly walks over, meowing once quietly as she weaves her way between their legs and starts purring, asking for their attention.
“You can’t make the decision for me. Harry, I don’t want to do anything after you. I want you to be my end.” Louis bends down and picks up Cotton, kissing her between her ears and looking up at Harry with big eyes.
Harry scoffs fondly, scratching under Cotton’s chin. “I love you, Lou.” Is all Harry answers, leaning down to kiss Louis softly with Cotton in the middle of them. She meows quietly and stretches her paws up to touch both their chins. ‘Give me attention.’ They chuckle quietly and look down at her.
“I know I can’t make the decision, but you need to be sure. I can’t really mean that much can I?” He doesn’t mean it to sound insecure, but it does, and Louis hears it.
“Harry you are part of my soul. I can’t stomach even thinking about loving someone at all after you. You’re it for me.”
**
Louis lets himself age. It’s a thing immortals can do. They can chose to let themselves age or stay looking like a specific age. Louis had been going with his late twenty’s early thirties (he honestly can’t remember the age he chose to stop aging). But once you start again, you can’t go back. That was a massive thing for Louis, to let himself look older. But it seemed like a tiny thing because it was with Harry, and everything is just easy with Harry.
They grow old together, working through the obstacles of parenthood. Noah comes out as non-binary and pansexual when they’re towards the end of secondary school, making for the biggest celebration they can manage on short notice. They watch Noah go off to university and travel the world, bringing back their girlfriend and eventual wife who Louis and Harry have no problems welcoming into the family. They add a large assortment of little feet to the pictures on the walls, eight kids wandering around their house every weekend to let Noah and Lyra go for a date night.
Louis hates admitting it, but he begged every time they had a new girl that they weren’t an angel or demon. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle going when there would be a chance of meeting another immortal in his family, other than his own sister’s.
It’s a weird thing really. Louis did so much research, travelled all over and spoke to countless immortals before he found an answer. Or some time of answer. He met a woman called Emilia, and she told him of a man she once dated. They didn’t last more than a couple years, but he eventually found the woman he wanted to grow old with, just as Louis has with Harry.
Emilia told him, over several cups of tea, that he allowed himself to age, and with that, he died just as a mortal would. Now she didn’t say that was for everyone and wasn’t just a coincidence. But it gave Louis hope. Because it’s not known for immortals to allow themselves to age. It’s extremely rare for immortals to marry, allow themselves to age that much, was practically unheard of.
Every immortal Louis knew who had died just met their end day without a certain reason. this gave Louis hope. and thankfully, Harry seemed to get the same hope when Louis told him. They had argued about it a few more times after that fight, but Harry understood now that this is what Louis wants.
They finally got to grow old together.
Louis and Harry Tomlinson-Styles
Beloved husbands, fathers, and friends
a love that made them both realise
they were whole the entire time