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Louis tosses his bag almost knocking over a stack of textbooks, teetering on the edge of his desk, in the process. His room is the same as he left it, messy and unkempt with clutter and clothes everywhere but he knows where everything is and everything is easier to find when it's lying out.
He doesn't have time to make things look decent, and by decent he would have shoved everything underneath his bed, when he hears knocking. Zayn walks in without being invited not batting an eye at the chaos. It's hard keeping a dorm clean with classes and homework and work and Louis' just generally lazy about everything, usually procrastinating assignments until the night before, so Zayn understands.
"Liam picked up Niall from the airport. Should be here any minute," Zayn falls back on his bed keeping his sketchbook tucked in under his arm one hand coming up to scratch at the beard he's growing. Louis thinks he's starting to look like one of those tortured artists who use charcoal and hang out in dimly lit coffee shops. Zayn tells him he's ridiculous.
Louis tries to get his essay started but he doesn't get past dating the paper when Niall comes waltzing in and thank God Louis really didn't want to do homework anyways.
Liam's not far behind, his hand pressed against Niall's back fingers massaging him through his coat and God knows Liam's missed Niall trying not to be an emotional wreck about it but he's been talking about nothing other than Niall while he was touring Europe with a stupid beret he found at a thrift shop, it's almost as bad as that gray flat cap he used to have. Niall's still wearing it only this time he has a scarf tied around his neck and wrapped presents in his arms.
"I bought you fuckers something," is the first thing Niall says and Liam swats the back of his head before leaning in and kissing it.
Usually when Niall goes places he likes to bring them all souvenirs, sometimes cards, or small trinkets, or Louis' personal favorite, food. He hands one to Liam first, covered in birthday wrapping and Liam's birthday isn't until August. He tears through it anyways peeling the scotch tape back and immediately blushing.
Louis has to lean over to see that it's a book and he has to keep his balance when he almost falls over laughing. It's a thick dictionary really on sex, sex positions, gay sex, just sex and Louis can't find anything better than this, especially when he isn't the one being humiliated. Even though he usually is.
"It's about time we liven things up in the bedroom!" Liam looks like he might implode. Niall ducks in and whispers something and it only seems to make the color of Liam's cheeks worsen.
"This is for you Zayn." Zayn takes the offered gift tearing away the newspaper it's wrapped in smiling when he sees a set of professional grade A colored pencils. He thanks Niall a bit quietly carefully removing one and testing it out on the last page of his sketch pad.
"And last but certainly not least this," Niall hands over his present and Louis notices that it's not wrapped, "is for you."
Louis looks down at the wooden box he's been given.
"Isn't it cool?" Niall asks. Louis looks at the box in his hand running his fingertips over the fading intricate designs carved into it. It's old, about seven inches in length and four inches wide but it's definitely him, especially when Louis manages to make out faint Celtic knot work and St. Brigid's cross near the center of it.
"Niall," Louis is cautious so as not to offend him. It's a beautiful box despite its wither but seriously, "what is it?"
"It's a music box, at least I think it is. There's a hole in the top but I don't think it's supposed to be there. It's still cool though all old and vintage and shit." Niall smiles hopefully like he expects Louis not to like it and he's taking a shot in the dark.
"Where did you get it?" Louis traces the carved in shapes following the curves, bends, and twists and even if it's worn and jaded he can't help admire the handiwork and wonder where it came from.
"I'm not really sure. It was some old antique shop in France. Apparently it came all the way from a small bakery in Cheshire and its been there for a long while. The shop keeper forgot he even had it."
Louis nods trying to peer through the crooked hole made with what he guesses was some kind of knife. He can't really see anything it's too dark but he cautiously sticks a finger in only feeling soft velvet. He removes his hand finding a scuffed lock on the side.
"It doesn't open. I tried and it won't budge. I didn't want to take anything to it either and end up breaking it," Niall sighs rubbing at the back of his neck the scarf moving with his knuckles.
"You can find something to do with it, use it as decoration. I don't know you're smart Mr. Chemistry major," Niall smirks using that same teasing tone in his taunt and whatever weird tension their was before dissipates and Niall no longer trying to please him.
"Will do." Louis doesn't bother reminding Niall that he's the one majoring in political science after changing it three times so maybe he doesn't remember).
"Now," Niall says, "why don't we celebrate my homecoming?"
"Or mourn the silence," Zayn groans. Niall pouts reaching over to hit him, Zayn steals the beret from his head and Liam has to grab Niall before he lunges. Louis rolls his eyes setting the box down on his desk.
Eventually they settle in with a few beers Louis managed to sneak in without administration knowing and some weird foreign film Niall brought back with him that doesn't offer subtitles and the tipsier they get the more it starts making sense.
Movie night ends somewhere between a murder scene and after Niall sticks his hand down Liam's pants. Zayn shoves both of them off his side of the bed grumbling about courtesy while gathering his things and Louis' too almost-drunk to care. This is usually how their nights go and if Liam isn't around Niall tries to get into Zayn's pants and Louis almost always end up on Niall's floor which finishes the night out.
"We'll see you later!" Niall barely manages to get that out with the way his lips are attached to Liam's tugging him out of his dorm room. Zayn rolls his eyes thanking Louis for so willingly letting them come to his room, shutting the door on his way out leaving Louis close to wasted and alone curls up on his bed.
ii
Louis doesn't understand.
His essay, that one for philosophy on all eight volumes of Nicomachean Ethics by Aristotle, is done. Its sitting on top of his textbook and its done.
He swears he hasn't written anything other than the number for that new pizza place down the block from campus, he doesn't ever get homework done early in general. He had just been assigned it yesterday and its been sitting on his desk while he slept or watched Man U or went and hung out with the guys. He knows he hasn't held a pen long enough to get anything to this caliber finished and ready.
There are four pages, four pages on happiness, virtue and how all of those tie into justice and divine intervention and how Aristotle is more into moral values rather than societal values and Louis' pretty sure he hasn't cracked open a single one of those eight novels. Unless Zayn decided to do his work which he wouldn't do unless it's for the right price or Liam did it despite how against 'cheating' he is and Niall's usually up to his eyes in his own homework. Louis comes to one of two conclusions. Either the pen is magical or the textbook is haunted.
On Thursday, Zayn says, “Dude, when did you organize your room? It looks good.” And, no. That’s weird because Louis doesn’t know the meaning of the word organize.
Louis looks towards his mini fridge where he kept all of his crisps and things on top and around it and everything looks so arranged, the large bag of crisps are leaning against the wall and the boxes of whatever else is after descending in order from tallest to smallest, almost like a staircase. It actually does look really good - and fuck, since when did he buy gummy bears? - but still. It’s weird, Louis doesn't touch his food unless he's eating something and half the time his trash doesn't even end up in the bin. So for things to be in an actual row, aligned and attractive, Louis questions his sanity, because he doesn’t remember being suddenly concerned with the placement of his food and where things go and the inside of his fridge is the same way.
That's not it though, there aren't as many things on the ground either. Most of his clothes are actually gathered in a pile in the corner and his papers on his desk are neatly stacked on top of his books with his pencils in a mug he forgot he even had here.
Zayn grins walking around like he's never been able to before and tosses his arms out, "I can actually see the carpet. Good job dude."
Louis just thanks him but he has no idea what to think or what to do. Someone broke into his room, he can't go to campus security though what's he going to say? Someone came in but instead of taking things they organized his things for him? He thinks he might be going crazy or someone is messing with him and fuck if it's not working.
He ends up turning in the essay he found written and gets a ninety eight percent with a note tacked on from his professor about it being the best thing he's ever read in his twenty odd years of teaching and Louis thinks it might not be as bad as he thought. iii
A few days later Louis sees a mouse run across his dorm floor when he’s coming in from Algebra and when he checks to see if his mousetraps are still armed, he’s surprised to find that the only thing snapped by the small metal bar is one of his pencils and the small pinch of cheese that once sat at the trigger is now gone.
Liam had taken him down to the hardware store the other day and although the chance of having mice were unlikely (especially ones who did his homework and tidied his things) it's the only think they could think of. Niall had been the one to suggest the cheese and Zayn just sat there mumbling about idiocy while channel surfing on Louis' television.
Louis picks it up, the pencil falls freely in two halves from either side of the trap, his favorite pencil, and Louis' only explanation is that his house is overrun with rodents smarter than he is. The thought is both sad and unnerving.
But apart from the genius mice that are, by evidence he just observed, apparently still alive he's creeped out by how neat his room has gotten. He can walk through without having to step over anything and he's finding shirts he forgot he had and textbooks he thought he lost. Yesterday, just to test if he's really lost it, he turned his box of pop tarts on its side and pushed his box of Lucky Charms back. He went and hung out with Zayn for a day and sure enough when he came back the food was arranged again and the mousetraps he spent most of the afternoon re-rigging with chunks of a Danish had snapped shut, empty.
Louis refuses to entertain the possibility that he could be dealing with mice that are not only smart and organized, but quite possibly sing and hem dresses too (if Disney is a safe source to go by); so he opts for finally admitting his house is haunted and tries not to acknowledge how clean everything is.
iv
"You're insane."Zayn is holding a paintbrush pausing mid stoke to stare at Louis. He's not even paying attention to what he's painting anymore (it looks like Perrie, or a very pretty man, Zayn's more of a drawer and it shows).
"I'm not denying the possibility that I am." Because Louis thinks that he's clinically insane and after researching in the library, no one's died at their campus so the possibility of paranormal activity is low and with nothing else to go on, yeah he'd say he's mad.
"Do you suppose I'm sleep walking or something?"
Zayn considers this, looking thoughtfully at his canvas adding a thick smear of bright yellow paint to the hair. Zayn is the first person Louis goes to when something too weird to explain happens to him, he's majoring in psychology if anything he could tell Louis whether it's time to get treated for a potential brain injury he doesn't remember getting.
"Depends, are you stressed?"
"Not any more than usual."
"Are you drinking before you go to bed?"
"Not any more than usual."
Zayn hums and Louis' not sure how to take that. Most of Zayn's responses are one worded or random noises and grunts and it's not like Zayn makes it any easier to decipher with how indifferent he looks the majority of the time.
"Are you having seizures?"
"What? Jesus -no."
"Gastroesophageal reflux?"
"Uh?"
Zayn rolls his eyes wiping his hands on his jeans, dry paint already stained and chipping off. He adds his signature in pen near the bottom corner of the canvas standing up and taking his brushes to his bathroom. Louis follows because what else is he supposed to do?
"Maybe you should get checked," Zayn murmurs, sticking his brushes underneath the faucet. Louis was afraid he'd say that. Expecting it and hearing it are two different things though and he's worried, something might seriously be wrong and its taken this long for him to notice anything.
He doesn't think he has a better option so he thanks Zayn for his help and goes home groaning when he spots an essay on Hobbes Vs Locke and nature Vs nurture on his bed next to a pile of folded socks.
v
It's two in the morning and Louis can't sleep. He's been tossing and turning and when he hears the sound of a bag of food being opened he startles, trying to see but it's too dark. He's really hoping to God he's just hearing things but that doesn't stop him from reaching over and pulling the chain on his lamp, light flooding the room and temporarily blinding him.
He feels insane climbing off of his mattress, reaching for the first thing he can reach which happens to be his Philosophy textbook but the thing weighs three pounds and if it can incapacitate a person (Niall used to walk into Louis room uninvited, he knocks now) then it can squash a mouse, and with a quick sweep of his room he's relieved that there isn't anyone actually standing there, but he's not alright with their being a potential mouse (or mice) in his dorm room doing his homework and eating his food.
"Alright you little bastards," Louis growls storming over to his mini fridge, raising his textbook over his head and he hopes that he doesn't get any blood on the pages. He shoves his bag of crisps out of the way to see a few Malteasers he got from the bakery earlier falling to the ground, a mouse scurrying out from the underside of his fridge to retrieve the small bit of chocolate.
This feels oddly like a Saturday morning cartoon and really Louis' waiting for the ceiling to open up and an anvil to fall out and bash his skull in before he can kill anything, and for the mice to laugh at him. He gets onto all fours shoving the fridge away with both hands until it moves a good foot away from it's previous position and the boxes that were neatly stacked go flying and scatter across his carpet. There's a mouse there but the thing next to it isn't a mouse. Louis feels like he was ready to accept the fact that there were tiny rodents that loved to clean and write college essays but there's no way that one of his Malteasers is being lifted above the head of a tiny little person pressing the mouse away with a foot and frantically whispering, “no, no, no! Be quiet, he’ll hear us!"
The little creature gasps freezing in place almost losing his balance when the mouse skitters off with the small, round chocolate candy, slipping out through his door probably heading into the living room, and Louis' face to face with a tiny British person.
Louis screams stumbling back and cracking his heel pretty hard on his mini fridge, dropping his textbook on his right foot and falling over, murdering his head on the corner of his nightstand and, okay maybe he overreacted but there's a five inch man standing there waving his arms and shouting things at him.
Louis reaches behind his back grabbing a glass cup that had tumbled off the table in his panic, trapping the thing underneath it.
Silence falls over him and he can hear the soft motor in his refrigerator, the quiet tick tick tick of his alarm clock, and the loud pounding of his heart rattling his ribs. His foot is absolutely throbbing and he can't wiggle his toes. The thing inside the glass looks terrified and lonely and scared and trapped banging it's little fists and trying to talk to Louis but Louis' not listening. He's trying to figure out whether or not that little person, or gremlin, is some product of sleep deprivation or the concussion he just gave himself.
Zayn is right and Louis can't help but breathe out, "I've gone insane."
vi
Queen starts playing and Niall groans from where he's lying on his side of the bed, catching Liam in the rib cage with his elbow. Liam murmurs in his sleep, pushing at his boyfriend's arm, nearly jumping out of his skin when the bass hits and Freddie Mercury's voice cuts through the silence.
Liam's confused until Niall says "answer your phone," that he realizes it's his phone and its the ringtone, Bohemian Rapsody, he set for Louis awhile back.
Liam slides his thumb across the screen tired and irritated, but mostly tired. He looks to his right and yeah it's a quarter to three and he has a seven thirty Math class with a test he's not prepared or ready for.
"Louis do you-"
"Liam," Louis sounds manic, "Liam, there's a tiny five inch person in my room."
"What?"
The bed shifts and Liam can see Niall sitting up, very annoyed and very confused, rubbing a hand down his face.
"It tried eating my Malteasers but I have it trapped underneath a glass and now it won't stop looking at me."
Liam looks at Niall and Niall gets on his phone to call Zayn who might have some semblance of an idea of what's going on. Or if at the very least he knows a pharmacy close by.
"We'll be right over."
vii
Louis opens the door, kind of limping, explaining to both Niall and Zayn that he managed to completely damage his foot in five seconds but he's got the person (he's positive it's a gremlin) trapped and he's cleaned up his candy and made an appointment with an exterminator.
"I'm positive this thing will be taken care of with a little gas." Louis murmurs nudging the cup with his unharmed toes.
"What the hell? You weren't kidding." Zayn bends down, staring at the little creature with more fascination than anything. And he gets that look on his face he gets when he looks at puppies, he wants to pet it or paint it and maybe quietly fawn over it.
Niall frowns, either restless or indifferent, crossing his arms over his chest and Louis realizes he's not dressed, wearing a muscle shirt and his boxers. "That's not very humane."
"That thing has been eating my food!"
Niall rolls his eyes, "if I ate your food you would gas me. The little guy is just hungry."
The thing nods, a head full of bouncy curls moving with him, (the little farmer's hat he's wearing almost falling off) rubbing at his stomach and pouting. Then he realizes he has everyone's attention and he knocks on the glass hoping to be let out.
Zayn reaches out offering a friendly smile and his palm, the poor little thing looks scared and he's got a soft spot for things that are small and cute.
"Don't let that thing out!"
"What's he going to do?" Zayn asks, rolling his eyes. "He's five inches tall, he couldn't hurt a fly could you?"
It shakes his head pressing both palms to the glass, large green eyes peering out from under exaggerated eyelashes.
Louis sneers, he's not going to fall for it. He glares as best as he can at both his friend and that thing trying to trick them and damn if it's not working on Zayn he can practically see the heart shaped eyes and the sympathy and he's fallen for it.
"What's it going to do?" Zayn asks, mystified.
"Eat your face off." Louis snaps, ignoring the simultaneous eye roll from both his friends.
It's still really late, or really early, and no one's come to check on him, a fact Louis finds both relieving and unnerving. He could have been dying but it's not the school's problem like the mice aren't their problem and this tiny little creature isn't either.
Zayn slips his hand underneath the glass and Louis grabs his shoulder, something he normally didn't do in fear of being glared at to death. "Don't you dare let that thing out I'll kill you."
His friends never listen to him though, so really it's his fault for expecting anything from them like helping or grabbing the bug spray or fly swatter he has lying around somewhere. Zayn lifts the cup, tossing it on Louis' bed while keeping his eyes on the tiny little thing balancing itself on his middle and ring fingers.
The gremlin, Louis' sure it's a gremlin, offers a sheepish smile, waving his hand and bowing his head, tiny little chocolate curls falling over his forehead and in front of his eyes.
Zayn giggles, actually giggles, and grins and Louis' never seen Zayn gush but here he is all starry eyed and pink cheeked and cooing. "You're cute. And really small."
"Do you have a name?" Niall asks, leaning against Zayn until he's eye level with his outstretched, open palm smiling himself and Louis groans. He groans because there's no way that they're actually falling for this poorly performed bullshit.
It nods pointing at his chest, his sheer top falling open when he puffs his chest out considering half the buttons are undone and Louis notices that he's also wearing black skinny jeans and minuscule heeled boots. And he has to admit even if he's waiting for it to try to take a chunk of Zayn between his teeth, the thing has style.
"My name is Harry." His voice is surprisingly deep and throaty compared to what he thought it would be.
"Nice to meet you Harry," Niall says holding his pinky out. Harry takes the very tip between his tiny hands, shaking it and bowing again, nearly tripping over his own feet.
"Don't give him your finger! He might fucking eat it!"
"Oh for gods sakes Louis, they don't eat people." Niall rolls his eyes and before Louis can ask what the fuck does that mean, his door opens and in comes Liam holding a plastic bag with Tesco printed on the side, wearing only his pajamas and fuzzy black slippers.
Niall tosses his hands up. "Finally! I never thought you would arrive."
Liam nods looking around at the mess, then to Louis, and finally at Zayn, paling when he notices a tiny little person. He nearly drops the bag and his eyes widen. "You weren't kidding! There really is a tiny little man."
"Did you bring what I asked you?" Niall takes the bag without waiting for a response, rummaging through it.
"Niall," Louis starts eyeing him warily expecting him to produce an ultra long syringe, "I don't need medication. You can see it too."
Niall waves him off resting the bag on his bed, taking out a square plastic box, what the hell, then Niall opens it and Louis can smell cinnamon and seriously, what?
Harry had gotten onto his knees leaning out, trying to see himself but he knew that smell, he loved that smell and he knew it. Could smell the cinnamon, sugar, and even the glaze coating the top.
"Niall why the hell do you have a cinnamon roll?"
"Because Harry doesn't eat people he eats sweets. He only eats sweets."
Louis looks at him like what the fuck and are you the one that's gone insane, but Niall looks at him like it's obvious and common knowledge, tearing a chunk off and sitting it on Zayn's fingers without waiting for confirmation.
Harry giggles and claps, the crumb about half his size. He dives in, ripping small pieces and holding them in both hands chewing quickly and excitedly.
What?
"How did you know he liked sweets?"
Liam and Zayn both join in staring at Niall who only shrugs like it's no big deal adding another tiny scrap next to the piece that Harry's almost completely devoured.
"They all like sweets."
Louis' growing increasingly curious and increasingly angry. "They? How do you know they? What is they? What the fuck are you talking about?"
Niall holds a hand up to cut off the questions, rummaging through the pocket sewn into his boxers and its not something he wanted to see, Niall with his hand down his pants, until he gets his phone out swiping through the screen for God knows what reason. He hands it to Louis and he sees a picture of a tiny little guitar. Louis still isn't following so Niall continues.
"I was unpacking my things in the hotel I was staying at and there was a little person in their trying to tune a guitar. His name was Ed," Niall turns to Harry, "do you know who Ed is?"
Harry nods and grins, face smeared and glistening with cream and a few stay crumbs near the corners of his upturned lips.
"So you had a person in your bag and you just thought it'd be great if you brought one back to me and didn't let me in on it?!"
"I didn't know Harry was in the box! But apparently there's a small little village that's set up in the corner of that antique shop."
"And no one's reported that there were fucking smurfs living there?!"
"They're all over Paris and Germany. " Niall wipes his sticky hands down his underwear and legs a few times until his fingers are for the most part clean.
Louis can feel his eye twitch a little. So, there's a gremlin that came from gremlin village in Gremlin fucking France and its in his dorm eating his food and living his life academically and it's wearing the world's smallest pair of boots, with big bouncy curls framing his cheeks and face and its all Louis' fault.
"I'm calling an exterminator."
Both Niall and Zayn gape at him like he's just murdered a puppy. "No," Niall glares, "you're not killing Harry."
"Then toss him out!" Louis groans because really he doesn't need this added on top of all the already piled on stress and anxiety he's been struggling with over thinking that he's lost his mind and really, he's pretty sure this entire night has confirmed that yes he has lost his mind.
Niall moves to his window, drawing the blinds and pointing outside the glass where its raining and had been raining for quite some time. "Yeah send him out there when it's pouring where he could fall into a puddle and drown. Brilliant idea Louis."
Louis has had enough of this. Seriously he's put up with it for long enough, this entire situation is fucked up and has been fucked up.
"Then where the hell do you suggest he goes? Take him back to your dorm!"
"We can't! Princess might eat him!"
The cat, that fucking cat that Niall's been hiding away from their room advisor, Louis forgot about her. She's a bit of a nasty cat too and while Louis really has no sympathy and could give fuck less he'd rather not see a tiny Harry being torn to shreds by some stuck up feline that Louis despises.
He turns to Zayn and Zayn shakes his head. "My roommate would tell. C'mon Sean is never home anyways he'd never even notice."
"I'm not keeping that thing in here!"
"Look at his face though. The face of an angel."
Harry pouts and bats his curlicue eyelashes, long and exaggerated against his bright pink cheeks and big green eyes. He looks like a cherub and a helpless one at that and Louis has to resist before he falls for this charade and ends up with half his face missing during the night.
Then Niall joins in copying Harry's face, Zayn not far behind and finally because Liam's never been good with peer pressure, he does too. Louis sighs and he feels outnumbered by puppy dog eyes and pouty lips.
"You're not allowed to take my food, you have to sleep in your box-"
Harry cheers and smiles, licking at the glaze around the corners of his mouth and his fingers stepping from Zayn's hand into Liam's, whose holding his palm out as an offer.
"Not you too." Louis groans watching Liam rip off another chunk of the glazed cinnamon pastry. Harry hugs Liam's finger, pressing his cheek against the bend in his thumb, smiling. Niall, Zayn, and Liam coo using the tips of their fingers to pet at his bouncy curls and Harry just looks so happy.
viii
It shouldn't bother Harry, Louis not talking to him, but he's kind of upset when Louis decides that he has to sleep in an old shoe box rather than his music box. His music box is lined with soft blue velvet and there are some leftover cupcake crumbs hoarded in the corners and it smells and reminds him of back home, even if he didn't like it back home. Still Louis is letting him stay so he puts up with scratchy cotton balls pillows and tissue blankets that he rips little divets into every time he moves his elbows or knees. And, Louis at least leaves a light on for him in his bathroom where he's been condemned to.
Louis makes it no secret that Harry's unwelcome and invaded his home, its apparent every day when Louis gets up and comes into the kitchen for breakfast, passing through on his way to get ready for classes. Harry is always up just as the sun rises and the first morning of being a known guest in Louis' dorm room, he had carried a Pop Tart out of the pantry and laid it on the edge of the counter, all nice and neat with a little note that read, “Good morning, Louis!” and Louis had completely ignored it, even Harry’s small, scratchy handwriting that took so long to perfect because Louis has these big, heavy, long pencils, not those plastic pens that are easier to hold. It's difficult for him to carry a pastry that big without falling over and he's tall, at least he was back home, and he nearly falls off the mini fridge.
Everyday, Louis makes sure Harry knows he isn’t welcome and everyday Harry tries harder to see that that changes.
On Monday, Harry cleans Louis' room. Louis knows this because his room is, well. Clean. And he knows he didn’t clean it. That and everything is folded again.
Harry got up an entire two hours to do it. He climbed himself onto the neglected laundry basket, painstakingly taking each article of clothing out lying a shirt flat on the ground and running around it to push it over and straighten it out until it's neatly folded. It takes ten minutes to only do one and Louis has what feels like a hundred of them and jeans that take longer and socks that he has to find matching pairs to and roll up like a sleeping bag. There's sweat along his hairline and his feet are aching in his boots but he's done and he thinks it's worth it.
So that morning he's all ready with a strawberry Pop Tart on top of the box when Louis gets up and heads over to retrieve breakfast, the first thing he does in the morning. "Morning Lou'" Louis just gets dressed and slings his backpack over his shoulder leaving with the Pop Tart hanging from his lips.
On Tuesday evening, Harry walks around Louis' bed where Louis' sunk back into a bean bag chair, a bag of popcorn in his lap and his eyes watching the colorful and flashy images on the television screen. There's screaming and chainsaw noises and blood and Harry flinches when there's a loud squelching sound of someone being cut in half, tugging on the ankle of Louis' jeans.
Louis looks down at him for a second and Harry says, "I ate the rest of my cinnamon bun could you go to the store? I'm hungry."
Harry sticks his stomach out and settles his hand on it but Louis jut stares, looking back up when someone rams a car into a tree and tries getting away from the window where the killer is trying to stick his chainsaw in. He manages to get it in and blood flies at the screen. When the credits roll and the popcorn is gone Louis stands without a word, scrolling through his phone and leaving Harry alone in the apartment.
Harry blows out a puff of air, his bangs swaying to the side a little and out of his eyes. He climbs up the side of the mini fridge and into his box, fluffing up the cotton ball, being careful to tug up the tissue over his shoulder sighing when he hears it rip near his elbow.
An hour and a half later Niall comes home, stumbling over his own feet tossing a plastic box near him. Harry jumps, sitting up in bed and yeah Louis is definitely wasted but there's a cheese croissant nestled in the carton, it's still warm Harry finds and at least he won't starve.
Wednesday and Thursday Harry tries to talk to Louis but it's pretty impossible when Louis leaves in the morning and doesn't come home until it's well into the night and Harry's already managed to fall asleep. He spends his time re-cleaning and reorganizing things until there's really not much else he can do. He almost ends up writing another essay for Louis but Louis already told him to stop that his professor would get suspicious by the loopy handwriting and large vocabulary used because Louis definitely doesn't say things like flabbergasted or affirmative.
Instead he tears off a piece of his cheese croissant and scales down the side of the fridge until he reaches the ground hefting it above his head, walking towards the twin bed pushed off to the side of the room. Something he had to learn growing up in a world a lot bigger than him had been learning how to climb things in order to reach food and learning how to climb back up things with food in his hands. His father always compared it to a baby bird learning how to fly, although he never saw the correlation he never questioned it.
He tosses the crumb on the bed, using the sheets to heave himself up and onto the mattress. Brushing the bread dust off Harry crawls towards the top of the mattress pressing his palm flat against the power button on the remote using the majority of his weight to get it to turn on. He steps on the channel button with his foot until he finds a cartoon network playing reruns of Action Man.
It's weird, the only television he ever got to watch had been the small one in the antique shop -a television only a few inches taller than him that used knobs and dials with only six channels in black and white- and the ones playing in the windows of electronic shops he watched whenever he disobeyed his dad and snuck away from the village. This one though is large and thin, a flat screen Louis told him a few days ago. So Harry watches the 'flat screen' with his back braced against Louis' pillow trying not to sink back into it, eating the cheese croissant in his hands and watching the colorful images on the screen.
When Louis does come home he looks at him and Harry's expecting shouting but instead Louis just rummages for some microwavable pizza pockets from his fridge and doesn't look at Harry for the rest of either night.
Friday morning Louis doesn't have a class so by eight it's still silent. Harry knows because of the calendar hanging above Louis' desk which Harry keeps organized, wiping off smudges and very carefully adding new important dates without falling.
Quietly he opens the thin aluminum wrapping and heaves the strawberry Pop Tart above his head and carries it to the small toaster appliance Louis keeps near his sink -something Harry finds dangerous but it's too heavy for him to move on his own- he's more careful with this part using the handle of the faucet as a step ladder to slide the pastry into one of the compartments. He climbs up onto it and walks over to the front jumping down on the little switch to turn it on, and waits on the edge of the counter.
Louis manages to wake up and eventually get out of bed with his comforter and sheets all kicked and shoved down towards the footboard, he stumbles over to the toaster where he can smell something cooked, his mouth watering and his stomach speaking for him. His hair still has gel in it from the night before leaving it matted and sticking up and varying and odd angles.
Harry can't help but laugh, trying to suppress it by covering his mouth with his hands but Louis hears because he's looking at him with an eyebrow raised. "What are you laughing at?"
This time Harry laughs openly, "your hair is funny."
Louis regards him for a moment only to turn away and try and smooth his hair down by licking his palms. Louis can't help but find a laughing Harry kinda cute.
ix
"Louis," someone whines his name. At first Louis wants to turn on his side and fall back asleep but instead he looks and yeah he almost wishes he did just turn on his side because there's a tiny face two inches away from him.
Louis almost falls off the edge of the bed, the corner of his nightstand stabbing into the soft skin of his bicep that he knows will bruise in the morning.
"Jesus," Louis says, "you could have given me an aneurism."
Louis pauses, heartbeat slowing down considerably and it's only now does he realize that Harry's kneeling on his chest, bunching his sheets in between two little fists, trembling and he looks fucking terrified. "What? What's wrong?"
“I’m sorry, Louis. I’m so sorry,” Harry winces, crawling over the mountains of wrinkled sheets piled between him and Louis now. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry. I -”
“God,” Louis groans, looking over at the alarm clock almost falling off the edge of his nightstand.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have woken you like that,” Harry says, “I just didn’t know any other way to wake you so -”
"So you crawl up into my bed and get in my face?” Louis admonishes. Harry looks pointedly at his hands, not at Louis and most certainly not at that exposed flesh of Louis' hip an arms length from him. Louis notices the tenseness in Harry's shoulders, the way his entire little frame seems to be shaking and the nervous way Harry flicks his eyes up to Louis every other second.
“What are you -? How did you even get in here anyway?” Louis looks at the closed door, confused and that mix of exhausted and angry he only gets when he's, well, exhausted or angry.
"I- I crawled under the door,” Harry says and he immediately grabs at the hem of Louis' shirt when Louis opens his mouth, “But I had to do something or it was going to eat me, Lou!"
“What?”
“There’s a monster in the bathroom,” Harry says tugging Louis' shirt up and covering his small mouth, words muffled against the thinly veiled fabric.
“And it’s trying to eat you?” Louis isn't buying it considering the only real monster here is now sitting on his pelvis close to tears and shaking so hard it feels like Louis' phone vibrating against his thigh.
Harry peers over his shirt and nods, “Yeah.”
Louis rolls his eyes so hard he thinks they're going to fall out of his head, "and what does this thing even look like?"
“It’s big and black and it had all these hairy legs and these really ugly beady eyes and it was making this really scary hissing sound and -” Harry pauses and Louis feels like he's watching a dramatic soliloquy unfold, “Louis it crawled in my bed and tried to eat me!"
"…So there’s a cockroach in your bed?”
Harry nods, face still buried in Louis' stomach.
"And you came to me because?"
Harry looks up at him, eyes wide and unblinking, "Kill it?"
Louis sighs and picks Harry up by the collar of his shirt, turning the lamp on by his bedside and he rolls his eyes when he sees Sean's bed still empty, why is it he's the one that has to deal with this alone?
"Lou?"
Louis turns and sees Harry toeing his sheets, looking bashful. “What?”
Harry ducks his head, hat almost falling off his head and holds out his arms. “Can you maybe… carry me? It’s kind of a long walk for me and. It’s dark. I don’t want it to get me.”
Louis almost says no but it's like three in the morning and he has an eight am class that he can't sleep through again. He picks Harry up and carries him off to the bathroom, flipping the switch and the fluorescent light is so bright Louis hisses.
“So where is it?”
Harry sits up a little straighter, a little braver, safer in Louis' hand and he points in the direction of the kitchen. Louis follows the line of his finger and notices Harry seems even tinier than before, sitting stoically in the cup of Louis' hand, his legs outstretched and spread across the joints in Louis' fingers. Harry’s legs are only as long as Louis' pinky.
Harry whispers into the bend of his thumb, “Did you bring anything to kill it with?”
“There’s a flyswatter on the top of the cabinet,” Louis says and sits Harry on the highest shelf level with the medicine cabinet above the sink.
“Are you sure it can’t get me up here?” Harry asks, paranoid as he steps to the ledge and looks down the five inch drop. “He climbed up the walls of my box so won’t he be able to climb up here?”
"Harry, you’ll be fine,” Louis says heading to the other side of the bathroom to get the flyswatter.
"You promise?”
"I promise.”
“You promise you won’t let him get me?”
“I promise that I won’t let him get you,” Louis rolls his eyes and slaps his hand palm flat on the cabinets, skirting his fingers around but he can't find the handle and now he can't remember if he used it recently. There are like a million fucking flies around the area, Louis uses the flyswatter more than he does the campus library.
"Louis!"
Louis turns sharply just in time to see Harry jump off the ledge and onto the granite countertop, nearly falling flat, running around the porcelain sink away from the cockroach that had been hiding from site, and okay Harry wasn't lying the thing is fucking huge.
"Louis, help! Help, he’s going to eat me!” Harry shouts, "kill it!"
Louis looks around his bare fucking bathroom for something to smash it with until he sees his bio textbook sitting on the ledge of the tub, he remembers photosynthesis better when he's taking a bath.
But it's an expensive textbook and brutally murdering a cockroach with the back cover of a book he doesn't even own probably isn't rational or smart.
"No! Leave me alone you big, ugly bug! Louis, do something! He’s trying to eat me!"
Right. Okay, so the textbook it is.
Harry trips over the cap of Louis' toothpaste Louis never remembers to screw back on and Harry knows he's probably going to be eaten now but Louis rushes back fast enough to pick Harry up in one hand and use the other one to crush the bug still skittering around.
And Harry's music box.
"Louis, it was so big! And it had a hold of my shirt and I thought I was going to die!” Harry moans and Louis' face falls before he turns to survey the damage done to the wooden box. It’s smashed nearly flat and Harry's small bed of Kleenex inside is crumpled beneath the damage done to the walls. It’s not irreparable but there is also a fair share of bug guts decorating the side and Louis isn't heartless enough to make Harry sleep in that.
So he takes the box to the trash and dumps it, doubles back to scrape up the remnants of the cockroach and clean his counter and he makes it all the way to the living room before Harry pokes his head through Louis' first and middle finger with curious eyes and asks softly, “What are you doing?”
“Going back to bed,” Louis says.
"But- what about me?” Harry asks.
“You are too.”
Harry's brows furrow, "Where do I sleep?"
Louis sets Harry down carefully onto the bed and pulls open the top drawer of his nightstand, “In here.”
"With you?"
"Well, I won’t be sleeping in here per say,” Louis smiles softly, its small enough but Harry still manages to see it. Louis rearranges things around and folds a pair of socks together setting them in the corner of the drawer, placing another sock above the folded pair.
Stepping to the edge of the bed, Harry peers over into the now mostly empty drawer and says, “You mean I don’t have to sleep in the bathroom anymore?”
"Nope, nothing can eat you if you're in here."
Louis hands a fourth sock to Harry.
“Um. I made you a pallet.”
“A sock pallet!” Harry beams, observing the makeshift bed before him. “And it’s argyle!"
“Yeah,” Louis says because he didn't even know that, they're just his nice pair of socks. "it's argyle."
“Thank you Louis!" Harry runs his hand across it feeling the soft fabric beneath his fingertips.
"They’re clean, just so you know,” Louis says, “My socks, that is.”
Louis looks at the sock in his hand, "Do I sleep in this too?"
"Or like, a sleeping bag, yes,” Louis helps him into the drawer and he has to stop himself from reaching out when Harry almost trips trying to take off his Barbie sized boots, crawling into his folded socks and spreading the other out on top of him like a blanket.
"It's nice," Harry says and Louis switches the light off listening quietly to Harry's breath leveling out until Louis knows he's asleep.
x
The next few days are interesting.
Harry still wakes up with the sun and Louis still wakes with the laziness of too much sleep. Harry leaves Louis Pop Tarts or cinnamon rolls that Louis' started to buy and Louis eats them around conversations he's starting to have with Harry - conversations that he's even initiated - while Harry makes trips back and forth to the sink with Louis' mess. They talk about Louis' dorm and his classes and why he's out an university in a different country rather than going to the one a few miles from his old house and Harry vaguely mentions his old home that he never really considered a home.
When Niall calls, Louis shrugs and says, “No, I mean, he’s okay. He’s not as big of a pain as I thought he’d be,” and Harry smiles to himself as he rinses out Louis' milk glass. When there’s a Mythbuster’s marathon on Discovery Channel, Louis offers Harry the armrest. When Harry says he’s feeling hungry, Louis orders pizza with an order of cinnamon sugar sticks and Harry lets him cut up his food into sizeable squares. When Harry can’t quite move his Queen to check Louis' King, Louis helps Harry lift it and carry it all the way across the Chess board to clench his victory. When Harry is claimed by the gap in Louis' couch cushions, Louis is tugging him out and fussing over Harry being more careful.
When Harry asks about Louis' guitar that Niall had given and showed him how to play Louis says, “Let’s play.”
And they do. Harry sits on the bed by Louis' thigh while Louis plays a few chords and starts playing the chorus to a Panic! At the Disco song. Harry hums the words beneath his breath and when Louis asks if he wants to try, Harry blushes, holds up his hands and says, “I wish I could.”
“You don’t have to play alone," Louis lifts Harry from his seat and sets him on the fret board, "We'll play together."
Harry is still hesitant but he presses his heels against the strings Louis tells him to and Louis awkwardly strums the chord from where the guitar is lying flat in his lap and it sounds exactly the same as the chord Louis played. Louis directs Harry where to step and Harry does, Louis strumming when he's in the correct positions and Harry can feel the vibration against the soles of his feet.
After awhile Louis stops and asks, "okay remember where to step?"
And Harry nods, he'd been paying close attention trying to memorize every time he moved his foot and in what direction.
"Okay," Louis says, "You're going to step around and I'll strum."
"Gotcha,” Harry salutes and makes one last run to the end of the neck of the guitar for good measure.
“Ready?” Louis asks and Harry jumps onto the first note.
xi
Louis wakes up to a loud roll of thunder and he can't find Harry.
It’s normal for Harry to not be in his drawer after sunrise, and it’s normal for something uncomfortable to rise in stomach when he rolls over and sees that there isn’t anything occupying his favorite pair of argyle socks. What isn’t normal is Harry to not being in the somewhat kitchen and for it to be torrential outside.
Louis' instinct is to check the back of the drawer, see if the thunder scared Harry to the farthest corner where he might curl up and tremble. His second instinct is to double back to the kitchen and check every one of the drawers in there. His third instinct is to panic.
He calls Harry’s name more times than he can count, searching every room, every corner, every nook and fucking cranny for Harry's small shadow and after thirty minutes of shouting for him, Louis' voice is cracking and he’s shaking a little. He calls Niall, borderline hysterical, and Niall makes him swallow, breathe, sit down and wait. Niall, Liam, and Zayn arrive at Louis' door quicker than they had the night Louis first called them about Harry.
They tear the dorm apart - namely Louis, but “It’s my fucking room, Niall. And don’t tell me to calm down!” - they throw the cushions off the couch, pull the dishes out of the cabinets, take the books off the shelves. Louis even goes so far as to push all of it into the center of the living room so that he can re-comb every square inch of the dorm that he’s ransacked.
Harry isn’t anywhere to be found.
"Look Louis,” Niall says but he looks just as fucking concerned even if he's not saying it, “I’m sure he’s fine. He’s probably out playing with the mice or something. You know how he is."
Liam adds, “Or maybe he just fell asleep somewhere and can’t hear us. You said yourself he likes to look around the house so maybe he just got tired and -”
“No, no, no! You’re wrong! Both of you. He’s not with the mice and he’s not sleeping. He wouldn’t - he would have told me if he -” Louis stops and runs his fingers through his hair and takes a deep breath before he fucking passes out. “He’s not here.”
“Where do you think he could be?”
"I don’t know Zayn!” Louis explodes and everyone flinches. “Fuck, I don’t know,” Louis says softer, impatience fizzling down until he’s this anxiety ridden bundle of nerves wound so tight he’s trembling.
Outside, lightning sends a strobe light effect through the blinds for a split second and a few moments later the loud rumble of thunder growls and crashes against the house, windows rattling. Niall looks outside, "You think maybe he got out?"
But Louis cuts him off before he can finish his sentence and says, "We're checking the dorm again."
"But you said he wasn't here!"
Louis looks outside at the storm, rain pouring and drowning plants and maybe little people that wander outside and don't know their way back. It feels like there's a hot knife slicing through his stomach turning his insides into ice, "we're searching again. He's in here somewhere."