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Harry still burns for Louis, but now it's different. Instead of in his core, he feels it in his heart. Instead of solar flares coming up, when Louis shines particularly strong, his eyes turn bright and strong. He stares at Louis because he is there. He is where he's supposed to be, within Harry's reach in every way.
Louis still likes it.
They tell people that they just click. That they've gotten off from the word go. They don't tell people about the bone deep familiar feeling. They don't tell people how it doesn't feel like they've known each other their whole lives. It feels like they've known each other longer.
Louis touches Harry. Runs his fingers through his hair, over his face, his body. Harry lets himself be touched. Sometimes there's an edge of desperation. Harry's hands will lock tightly against Louis' arms, keeping him close. Louis will press his face into Harry's curls, breathing him in, like the entire concept is novel to him.
They move in together after the X-Factor. It feels like one of them will get suffocated, say they need space. Leave the flat and give each other distance. It never happens. Harry spends days pressed to Louis' side, with his arm slung over Louis' middle. His face snuffled close to Louis' belly.
Sometimes they lay together until it gets dark. They have a balcony where they like to sit. They both look up at the sky. There are thousands of lights twinkling, reflecting back at them. Harry's grip will tighten around Louis those nights.
It's hard to let go of someone when you've already done it once. Lost them to darkness, to time.
“Does it feel different to you?” Harry asks. He doesn't know what he means.
“No, it actually doesn't.” Louis knows what he means. He always does somehow. But nothing is different. Louis is still pulled in by Harry, no matter the shape or form.
Harry wants tattoos. He wants to mark his body with permanence. “How about a star?” Louis says.
Harry feels a shock run through his body at the words. Louis looks surprised to have even said the words. But it feels right.
That's how most things between them feel. It's hard for them to say, for them to click on what the electricity that runs between them means. Louis says it doesn't have to mean anything. Louis says he found him, and that's how it works right. Finder's keepers.
Harry says you can't find something until you lose it. They both get a little quiet. Harry doesn't know what he means.
Louis whispers that you can't lose something that you keep inside you. That you can't lose something when it's etched into your skin, into your soul.
That's where Harry is, isn't he. Pressed into Louis' soul.
The next day Harry goes to a tattoo shop. Louis holds his hand, intertwined with him and pressing into his atmosphere. He gets five points drawn on his skin.