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Louis might be dying, like, actually dying. With every step she takes down the far too long main aisle of the Tesco Metro she’s currently facing death in it feels like her uterus is delivering a swift kick to her insides, the lights glaringly bright with the headache she’s had all day. But death will have to wait because Louis is a man on a mission, or woman on a mission, whatever. It’s a Saturday night, she is nearly alone in the shop, hasn’t seen anyone save for the old man she almost crashed into while speed walking past the dairy aisle. She’s really glad he didn’t complain much because today is really not the day to test her self-control when it comes to yelling at old men. Finally spotting the “Feminine Care” sign she makes a turn for the right, pressing the hot water bottle in the front pocket of her jumper closer to her stomach, and is faced with the sight of someone else about to grab the last box of tampons. “Oi!” she yells and immediately winces at the sound echoing through the almost empty shop. If she wasn’t currently bleeding out from the inside and on a desperate mission to put a stop to that she would probably be more appreciative of the girl in front of her, all long legs and long hair and long lashes, blinking at Louis under the harsh neon lights.
“What?” she asks, sounding annoyed.
“Sorry mate, literally bleeding to death, those tampons are mine.”
“Mate”, the girl spits back, “what makes you think I’m not in the exact same situation?”
Louis finally takes a proper look at her at that, taking in her high heels and skin-tight jeans, as if. “Yeah right. Now give me those tampons or I’ll bleed all over your fancy outfit.” And alright, maybe that was a bit much, but Louis is suffering and all she wants is to get home, wrap herself in five blankets and marathon The L Word in peace. Can’t blame her for getting a little graphic. But tall girl is having none of it, actually taking the box of precious goods now and stalking away.
“Hey! You can’t just- “, but before Louis gets to finish her sentence, the girl is doubling over, dropping the tampons and blindly grabbing the nearest shelf for support. Shit. Within seconds Louis is by her side, all murder plans she had just come up with forgotten, cautiously extending a hand to rub the girl’s back.
“Listen, if it’s that bad you can have them, I can go somewhere else, it’s fine.” And it’s not really fine but maybe, just maybe, tall girl is in more pain than her and who is she to deny a pretty girl a box of tampons just out of laziness. The tampon thief is still not moving though, just clutching her stomach as she groans softly.
“Sorry, bad cramps, make me dizzy, don’t worry”, she manages to get out without looking up.
“Of course I’m going to worry; you can’t even stand up straight. How did you get here? Are you alright to drive? Do you want me to give you a lift home?” Suddenly Louis is going into overly concerned mum mode, protective instincts that come from having too many younger siblings kicking in. She unzips her coat and pulls the hot water bottle from her jumper pocket, handing it to the other girl who accepts it with a grateful nod and presses it against her belly through the thin fabric of her white dress shirt.
“I got the bus here, was on my way from work but if you could drop me off at mine”, her face twists up in pain, “that’d be lovely.” She’s not even putting up a fight and Louis makes a mental note to have a serious talk with her about trusting strangers if she ever sees her again after this. She wraps an arm around the girl’s waist (first thought: oh, soft; second thought: Not now Louis! ) to help her up, takes the box from her hands, and starts leading them toward the checkouts. Making a last minute decision Louis grabs a pack of donuts before throwing her shopping on the belt as she struggles to get her wallet out with one arm still around the girl. The cashier takes one look at the tampons and shoots them a pitiful look.
“Not exactly ideal for date night, huh?” With a smirk she rings them up and accepts Louis’ card.
The girl pipes up at that. “Well, according to Shakespeare dying together is very romantic, so we’ll see.” And ok, Louis isn’t quite ready for that level of commitment yet but the girl didn’t say no to date night, which is certainly interesting.
Soon they are stepping outside the shop into the brisk evening air and making their way across the lamp lit car park. When they get to Louis’ truck, the girl chuckles a little.
“A truck with a rainbow bumper sticker, really?”
“Yes?”
“That’s so…”
“Gay? I know, I’m nothing if not committed to being a walking stereotype. For pride I usually tie a flag to the roof.”
The girl just laughs again, finally slipping away from where Louis’ arm is still wrapped around her and climbs into the passenger seat. Louis gets in on the other side and puts the key in the ignition, looking over at her passenger with an arched brow.
“Oh, my address. Calais Hill, first house on the right after the turn. It’s not terribly out of your way, is it? I’m Harry by the way, if I’m keeping you away from your rom com and ice cream or whatever you had planned for tonight I feel like I should at least introduce myself.”
“Louis and don’t worry, don’t even have any ice cream at home so you’re not keeping me from much. Was just gonna curl up in bed and curse the world for giving me a uterus to be honest.”
*
It’s not far to where Harry lives and they spend most of the drive in silence, radio playing softly as they make their way through the last remainders of the rush hour traffic and out of the city. Harry has kicked off her shoes and pulled her legs up on the seat, curling in on herself, and now that Louis is neither battling for tampons nor in her white knight role she takes a moment to appreciate the girl in the passenger seat. She’s cute, like if Louis had met her in a bar she probably would’ve bought her a drink and scared her off with a terrible pickup line cute, and Louis curses the powers that be when Harry says “this one” outside a small red brick house and Louis pulls to a stop to let her get out.
“So…”, Harry drawls while stretching her legs and picking up her shoes from the floor of the car. “Do you want to come inside for a cup of tea or something? I have ice cream too and you said you don’t have any.”
At that Louis sends a silent prayer to the heavens for not letting what she has dubbed “excellent rom com material night” in her head end just yet. She sends Harry a wide smile as she turns off the car and unbuckles her seatbelt.
“Well, seeing as we’re both dependent on one shared box of tampons I don’t really think I have a choice, do I? And I want donuts with ice cream which I’ll need to raid your freezer for.”
After Harry has assured her that Louis can just leave her car where it is they walk through the dark garden to the door, Harry’s hand guiding her along the crunching gravel that leads to the small porch.
“Harriet Styles”, Louis reads aloud while Harry is fumbling with the keys trying to get the door open.
“Don’t laugh, it’s not my fault my mum decided to give me a name that screams ‘I love knitting and put lavender in my stockings drawer!’”
“Hey, I’m not judging, my name’s Louise technically which stands for ‘I’m the wrinkliest member of my church’s choir and probably had a crush on the village priest seventy years ago’. My parents still haven’t forgiven me for dropping the e the second I was out of school.”
Harry finally gets the door open and steps inside, leading Louis into a small kitchen.
“Look, I don’t want to be rude but I really need to have a shower and to get out of these clothes. I’ll only be a few minutes, if that’s ok?”
“Sure, take your time. Want me to make tea?”
“Thanks, that’d be lovely. Mugs and everything else is in the cupboard above the kettle.”
She has barely finished her sentence before she is out of the kitchen and running up the stairs with loud steps. Louis shrugs out of her coat and shoes, depositing them by the door and sets to making tea. Opening the cupboard Harry pointed her towards, she gets out everything she needs and is just waiting for the kettle to boil when someone comes bounding down the stairs and into the kitchen. It’s not Harry though but a guy about her age, messy blonde hair peeking out from underneath a dark beanie.
“You’re not Harry”, he states confusedly.
“Afraid I’m not. She’s in the shower.”
“Damn, can you tell her I took an evening shift and probably won’t be back until tomorrow night? So you guys can do…whatever you’ve got planned without worrying about my poor innocent ears.”
And really, Louis has absolutely no reason to blush at that and if anyone asked she would blame it on the kitchen light making her skin look a funny colour because they’ve got nothing planned that could do anything to anyone’s ears. Before she gets a reply out however, blonde hair is already shoving his feet into a pair of trainers and opening the front door.
“Cheers, mate, catch ya later”, and he’s gone.
The kettle clicks off and Louis turns back to her tea making with a huffed laugh, black, no sugar for herself, milk and one sugar for Harry (teabag, water, milk, sugar, any other order would be sacrilege). Not that Harry requested it that way but she just seems like a milk and one sugar kind of person. Once she has put everything back into place there is not much to do besides wait, so she settles down on one of the rickety kitchen chairs and pulls out her phone to scroll through Twitter. When nothing is happening on there, she moves on to checking her emails, deleting a bunch of spam newsletters she should’ve unsubscribed from ages ago and quickly replying to her mum who had sent her a bunch of pictures of the backyard shed they were currently turning into a den for Louis’ younger siblings. Somehow, even after having WhatsApp for years, her mum still sent all her photos via email and Louis didn’t have the heart to tell her to catch up to the 21st century.
Finally, Harry comes into the kitchen again, yoga leggings hugging her long legs and an oversized tank top hanging off her shoulders. Louis absolutely does not gulp at the fact that she is clearly braless. She’s got both hands in her still wet hair, twisting it into a loose braid.
“Hi”, Louis definitely does not beam up at her from where she is sitting.
“Hi to you too.”
“Blonde Irish guy said to tell you he was working this evening and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow night.”
“Oh, Niall, he’s my housemate, thanks for telling me. Wanna take the tea to the living room? It’s just through there”, Harry says pointing to a half open door, tying her hair up with a glittery elastic. “I’ll get the donuts and ice cream.”
Louis grabs the two still steaming mugs and makes her way into the other room. It’s small too, just like every other part of the house she’s seen so far, with a dining table pushed against one wall and a blanket-draped sofa in the corner facing a large flat screen TV that would be far more impressive if it wasn’t put up on a pile of textbooks and leaning precariously against the wall. There are a few photographs scattered around the walls mixed with posters and postcards, and a row of what looks like scented candles is neatly arranged on the coffee table.
“I can’t believe you laughed about my rainbow bumper sticker when you literally have ‘mo homo’ painted on your living room wall”, Louis yells into the kitchen where she can hear Harry puttering about once she has deposited the cups onto the table and herself onto the sofa.
“Hey, it wasn’t a mean laugh, more like a friendly appreciative one! By the way, you’re not like, vegan or anything, are you? I only have ice cream made with dairy.”
“No, not vegan. I’m afraid that’s the only thing keeping me from being promoted to a platinum level member of the international lesbian association.”
Louis can hear Harry chuckling and then the sound of the microwave beeping. A few moments later Harry joins her on the sofa, setting down two bowls with warm donuts sitting on a mountain of slowly melting ice cream. Louis scoots over a bit to give Harry more space and picks up her tea, Harry copying her.
“This is perfect! Milky and one sugar, how did you guess that?”
“Lucky guess?” Louis shrugs, settling further into the cushions and blowing over the rim of her mug.
“Well then, thank you Louis’ lucky stars”, Harry grins. She picks up the remote and turns on the telly where they’re showing some medical drama. “This okay?” Louis nods. She would probably watch endless reruns of Fawlty Towers if it meant getting to spend more time with Harry and there is nothing she hates more than Fawlty Towers.
It must be an hour or two later when Louis blinks awake slightly disoriented with a warm body pressed against her side and a mouthful of curls. The last thing she remembers is her eyelids getting heavier and heavier after finishing her ice cream and Harry’s head slowly drooping on her shoulder. It’s still dark outside so they can’t have been asleep for too long but Louis really needs to wee and should probably make use of those tampons that landed her here in the first place. Carefully, she tries to shuffle out from underneath Harry’s sleep heavy body but just when she thinks she’s made it Harry blinks awake and sits up with a start.
“Oh shit, did I fall asleep?” With a look at her watch she groans. “Sorry, I’m so sorry I fell asleep on you, been a long day. Hey um, listen it’s late so if you wanna stay over, I don’t want you to have to drive back to wherever you live this late. Oh god, that’s probably way too forward of me, sorry.”
Louis can’t help but laugh, it’s an adorable sight, Harry rambling with bleary eyes and her hair sticking up all over the place.
“Do you always ramble so much when you’ve just woken up? We both fell sleep, don’t worry, and thanks for the offer but I don’t want to bother you anymore than I’ve already done.”
“No, no, it wouldn’t be a bother at all, my bed is big enough, or you can take the bed and I’ll stay on the couch. Whatever you prefer.”
In the end she convinces Louis to stay and they both settle on sharing her bed because the short nap on the couch was uncomfortable enough already. They are more or less silent as they make their way up the stairs into Harry’s room. The room is soft and warm, with a low ceiling and lanterns strung up around the window overlooking the dark backyard and an assortment of colourful rugs covering almost every inch of floor. Harry hands her a large soft t-shirt wordlessly which definitely doesn’t make Louis feel all fuzzy inside as she changes out of her clothes in the bathroom. It also doesn’t make her head spin a little when Harry has two hot water bottles ready, the one Louis lent to her in Tesco earlier and another one and she absolutely does not get butterflies when Harry whispers “Night, Lou” after clicking off the light and pulling the covers up to her chin. Nope, that’s probably just the cramps returning.
*
For the second time in twelve hours Louis wakes up disoriented but this time there is no one sleeping beside her. Instead, in a beam of morning light, there is a pile of clothes and a towel waiting for her on the empty side of the bed, topped with a note. Gone for a run, use whatever you need, hope these fit. Harry xxx
Freshly showered and clad in Harry’s clothes Louis walks downstairs where soft music is pouring from the kitchen. “You know, I’ve never looked more like a farmer and I work on a farm.”
Harry whips around at that, almost knocking over the two mugs on the counter behind her.
“Well, I didn’t know your jeans size and everyone looks cute in dungarees, so… Wait, you work on a farm? That’s so cool, do you have like, baby lambs and stuff?”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment, thanks, and yeah we do but I only run the shop. If you want someone to play the lonesome farmer in your romance novel fantasy, I’m afraid you’ll have to keep looking. Why are you so chipper anyway? Yesterday you almost fainted on me and now you’re going for a morning run. Are you sure you weren’t just faking it for a ride home last night?”
“Ah, the magic of ibuprofen. Want some?”
“Not on an empty stomach, my mum’s a nurse, she’d kill me and then give a lecture at my funeral about what painkillers without food first will do to your kidneys.” Louis slides onto a chair and accepts the mug Harry hands her, (black, no sugar, Harry paid attention).
“Well in that case what’s your opinion on Sunday brunch? There’s a new American-style diner in town that I’ve been meaning to check out if you’re free.”
Half an hour later they are tucked into a booth with a table full of food on front of them, Harry is drowning her pancakes in maple syrup and laughs only a little bit when Louis dips her chips in her strawberry milkshake. “So…”, Louis begins.
“Yes?”
“Would you want to possibly maybe please go out on a date with me when we’re both not bleeding to death anymore?” she rushes out, milkshake straw dangling from her lips.
“Do you not want us to be on our periods anymore because you think I put out on the first date?” Harry replies with a smirk arching her brows higher than should be humanly possible.
“No, I, no I meant…I’d just like for us to not be in pain because our bodies hate us.” Harry is still looking at her questioningly. “I mean of course I’d like to sleep with you but not on the first date which is never going to happen now because I’m making a complete tit of myself.”
Finally, Harry breaks her stare and throws her head back laughing loudly. After a minute which seems more like an hour to an increasingly embarrassed Louis she manages to calm down and places a hand on top of Louis’ in the middle of the table. “I’d very much like to go on a date with you. In fact, we can pretend this was the first one so there are no rules of virtue for date number two.”