Work Text:
It all began when Louis ran her car into Harry’s carrot patch. Well, at that point she didn’t know that the garden her car was currently sitting in after a harsh turn off the road to avoid driving straight into a flock of sheep belonged to Harry. She also couldn’t tell the green plants squashed underneath her tires were carrots. The closest Louis had ever come to a vegetable garden had been on that school trip to a farm in year 5 where she had managed to fall into a trough ten minutes after getting off the bus. She had been sent home immediately. After that she stuck strictly to cities but this was definitely not a city.
“Fuck, shit!” Louis shouted at her own reflection in the rear view mirror. This was great, just absolutely lovely. With another string of curses, she got out of the car to inspect the damage which was, well, it wasn’t pretty. Her rental had a bunch of scratches all along the door on the driver’s side but that wasn’t even the problem, Louis being the atrocious driver that she was had luckily paid the little extra fee for insurance as if she had known this was going to happen. The problem was the mess of wood and wire and churned up soil that was no one’s fault but her own. The sheep she had narrowly avoided hitting were still standing in the road and their bleating sounded incredibly judgmental to her ears. First things first, she snapped a picture, the scene almost picturesque with the setting sun in the background and pulled up Instagram, captioning it off to a great start!!!! #countryliving, and posted it. On her private account, not the one with 120k followers which consisted entirely of tiny portions of food on even tinier tables.
“You ruined my carrots!” The voice was shrill, annoyed and not exactly unfamiliar. Shit. “What the fuck, did you just not see that there was a fence? Or you know, things behind said fence?”
A girl came into view, pushing her way through the sheep, shooing them away with a simple click of her tongue and they actually scattered into the field next to the road. This was the moment when Louis realised it was a carrot patch she had driven into and that this carrot patch belonged to Harry. Harry Styles, twenty-two years old, owner of hazbites on Instagram, an account full of food that could rival Jamie Oliver’s in health and colourfulness with a whooping 200k followers (not that Louis was jealous or anything). Harry Styles who she was supposed to be staying with for a week. Fuck.
“You’re Harry! Hi, I’m-“
“I don’t care who you are, you just destroyed months of hard work!” Harry was only a few feet away now, arms crossed and a deep frown etched into her heart-shaped face, clearly aiming for an intimidating look but the tiny freckles on her cheeks and nose didn’t really allow it. She was still going on about the state of her carrots but Louis couldn’t seem to focus, her eyes took on a life of their own and began to wander down Harry’s torso wrapped in a loose only half-buttoned men’s shirt, down to her subtly toned legs, completely bare except for the tiny shorts that covered the top of her thighs and a pair of muddy wellington boots. “Are you even listening to me?”
Louis’ head snapped up, her cheeks warm and a guilty expression on her face. “Look, I’m really truly sorry, I didn’t see the sheep early enough and I didn’t want to hit them so I just…hit your garden instead. I promise I’ll spend all of next week on my knees superglueing your carrots back together if that’s what it takes.”
At that statement Harry seemed to realise who Louis was. Her brows shot up but she was still trying to frown and her face ended up in a hilarious twisted pout and Louis was having a hard time not bursting into laughter.
“You’re…you! I’m making you sleep in the shed for this!”
Without another word she turned around and stormed away down the short drive that led off the road just a few metres ahead, at the end of which Louis could make out a small cottage. Of course she’d manage to have an accident less than a minute from her destination. Of fucking course. There was not much else to do but to get back into the car, reverse out of the ruined carrots and follow Harry who was marching at record speed towards the cottage. By the time she had parked the car and grabbed her bag from the boot Harry was standing by the door, her wellies safely deposited underneath a wooden bench, tapping her foot impatiently.
“Shoes off, please”, she said as she led them into a narrow hallway. “Kitchen on the left, living room on the right. Your room is at the end of the hall and the bathroom’s across from it. Grab whatever you need, towels, food, I’m going to bed.”
Louis was left dumbfounded and frankly a little offended in an unfamiliar house. She didn’t think a few vegetables more or less would warrant this kind of treatment. Dreading the week ahead she toed off her Converse and pushed them in the general direction of a pile of shoes by the door, hitched her bag a little higher up on her shoulder and went in search of her room.
It wasn’t much of a search at all, with the hallway easily crossed in less than a dozen steps and the door wide open to reveal a small but tidy guest room. A soft looking queen size bed was pushed up against the wall on the right side, a desk and chair next to it facing the window. Behind the door was a low chest of drawers and potted plants dotted the room. It was nice, a lot nicer than Louis’ guest room at home which didn’t contain more than a mattress on the floor and a flickering lamp and Louis wished she wasn’t too annoyed to appreciate it properly. At least Harry had left a note with the wifi password on the desk. After a quick trip to the bathroom Louis climbed into bed for the night despite it only being just past nine and pulled out her phone for one last social media check. Above her, where Harry had fled to earlier, no sound could be heard.
*
When Louis woke up her phone was stuck to her cheek and she was chewing on a piece of her own hair. The sun was shining brightly into her small room, illuminating the space and leaving spots of heat where it hit her bare feet sticking out from under the duvet. The rattling of pots and pans could be heard from the kitchen and the soft rumbling of a kettle close to boiling. Right, time to face the wrath of Harry once again.
Louis’ arrival in the kitchen caused Harry to almost drop her phone onto the table which was so overladen with food that it was almost a miracle the tabletop hadn’t collapsed yet. There were different kinds of juices, fruit, what looked like freshly baked bread, eggs, a stack of pancakes, Louis didn’t even know where to look first. She had seen all of this on Harry’s Instagram countless times but she had put most of it down to good filters and careful arrangement, never had she expected it to actually look like this in real life.
“Hi, morning! I was just going to come and get you. Come sit, breakfast is almost ready, just waiting for the tea to brew. I’ve snapped a few pictures already, I can send you some to post later. How do you take your tea?”
“Splash of milk, no sugar please”, was all Louis gets out in reply, too surprised by the sudden onslaught of friendliness she was bombarded with.
“Brilliant, there you go”, Harry chirped stirring milk into a mug and placing it in front of her. As she sat down the friendly atmosphere turned awkward, last night’s fight hanging over the table between them. Louis stirred her tea with her index finger and Harry was fiddling with her fork, neither quite sure what to say.
“So”, they both spoke up at the same time.
“You go”, Harry offered, just as Louis said “Go ahead.”
Again, they both opened their mouths at the same time but burst into awkward laughter before either of them managed to speak.
“Listen”, Louis finally got out. “About your vegetable garden, I really am sorry. I’m a terrible driver as it is and I haven’t driven in ages, but if there is anything I can do to make it up to you-”
“No don’t worry, it’s fine, it’s all good. I should be the one apologising, I was completely out of line just running off on you like that, I didn’t even offer you dinner, I’m a terrible host.”
“I had dinner on the way, it’s fi-”
“Please, Louis, I feel terrible, just let me apologise? I was tired and cranky and had a horrible day at work because two of my colleagues didn’t show and I had to pull an extra shift but I still shouldn’t have yelled at your or just abandoned you like that, I was out of line and I’m sorry and I wish we could start over.”
Louis eyed her for a moment, the hopeful expression on her face and the way she was digging her teeth into her bottom lip. Eventually she extended a hand across the table. “Hi, I’m Louis. It’s really good to meet you.”
“I’m Harry and it’s good to meet you too. I think we’re going to have a great time this week.”
*
After an exchange of smiles they dug into their food. Louis hadn’t realised how hungry she was but it made sense, a dry sandwich from Tesco wasn’t really a full dinner, so she made up for it now, filling her plate with everything Harry had to offer. Usually a fan of Froot Loops for breakfast, if she even remembered to eat it and wasn’t in a rush to get to work with just enough time for a handful of crackers while sprinting to the nearest bus stop, the sheer endless choices in front of her left her a little breathless. Even when she decided to treat herself on the weekend or when she went home and had her mum whip up a full English for her it was never like this. She could get used to this, she thought. Every now and then Harry had to explain some food or another to her, like how to best eat tamarillos or that yes, those were crepes with goat’s cheese but they’re really good, promise. They didn’t talk a lot other than that, but the silence filled with the clinking of cutlery and the soft sounds coming from the radio on the window sill wasn’t as awkward anymore.
When their plates were cleared Louis offered to clean up but realised too late that Harry didn’t own a dishwasher. Harry, noticing her expression, just laughed.
“Not a fan of washing dishes?”
“No, I just…I barely cook at home and even I have a dishwasher. Wouldn’t it make your life a lot easier if you had one?”
Dumping their plates and in the sink Harry laughed again. “Well, only if you see dishes as a hardship. I like doing them, it’s meditative, you know? And I’m only cooking for one person most of the time, if I had a large family I’d probably buy a dishwasher first thing.”
“I have one. Big family, I mean. Six younger siblings, two pairs of twins, the youngest ones are three years old now.”
Harry’s eyes lit up at that. “I love kids! I only had an older sister, she was great, but I always wanted baby siblings to play with, babies are just so cute!” Her voice rose up a bit at the last word, excitement ringing through. Louis was fixated on her bright face, on her cheeks where a blush was starting to form. Cute. Yeah, alright. Louis broke into an explanation of her family then, of the five younger sisters and how happy she had been when the sixth child was a brother because as much as she loved her sisters none of them had ever really been into her more tomboyish hobbies and even though Ernest could barely run a minute without falling over she had high hopes for him to be her football buddy one day. Every time she looked up Harry was looking back at her, eyes filled with wonder and an open smile pasted on her face. When the conversation petered out they continue to work in silence, Harry washing dishes, Louis drying them, and it didn’t take long until the kitchen was spotless. By far not as long as it would’ve taken with a dishwasher Louis admitted to herself.
“So, I hate to do this but I’ve gotta get to work. I mentioned that in my email, right?”
Louis nodded, when they had emailed to plan this Harry had apologised at least twenty times for not being able to just take a week off from work.
“I should be back around eight I think, I’ll bring dinner. Just um, make yourself at home, eat if you’re hungry, feel free to watch TV, whatever you like.” Harry was pushing her bare toes into a pair of trainers that were more holes than shoes and Louis seriously doubted whether she was allowed to wear those at work, considering she had mentioned working at some upscale hotel somewhere nearby. Bag and jacket trailing behind her Harry left with a “See you tonight, Louis” thrown over her shoulder as she drove away in a beat up old Fiesta.
With a mental slap to herself, Louis shook her head and turned away from the door. “Get it together, you big gay.”
*
Louis had brought a couple of books with her to read while she was staying at Harry’s. She was officially on holiday from her job as a software engineer and although work was piling up for her at home she had decided to just be lazy this week. But reading had to wait a bit because Louis had more pressing issues on her mind, namely whatever mess she had created last night.
The fence was still in the same sorry shape it had been when she had last seen it, two fence posts on the ground, a third one snapped in half, everything still hanging onto a mud-covered tangle of heavy wire. Well then, at least she had taken wood tech in school.
“Oi, what are you doing there?” For the second time in two days someone was yelling at Louis while she was contemplating Harry’s mess of a fence. This time it was a boy though, or a young man, his military-style buzz cut in contrast with his warm face. Nice shirt, Louis wanted to tell him because the red plaid shirt he had tied around his waist really was quite nice, but the fact that he was now telling her to get lost didn’t really put her in the mood for compliments. “Get off Harry’s property!”
“Mate, I’m staying with her so before you give yourself a coronary maybe relax a bit.”
His expression went from angry puppy to confused puppy.
“Oh shit, you’re Louis, aren’t you? I’m so sorry. I’m Liam, hi!” This thing where people got angry at her and then made a complete 180° had to stop, Louis thought but extended a hand anyway.
“Hi Liam, good to meet you, I’m Louis and I’m honestly just trying to fix her fence. I have no intentions of vegetable theft or anything, promise.”
Liam regarded her with a measuring look, one that Louis hoped would turn into a friendly one soon because Liam was at least a head taller than her and his arms were roughly twice the size of hers. She’d rather not get on his bad side. His scepticism was more directed at the fence though, or what was left of it, and after a moment he lit up excitedly.
“Do you need help? It shouldn’t take too long anyway but two is better than one, right? If we space the other two out when we put them back in the ground, we can fix it without replacing the third one. The wire didn’t snap so we can just straighten it out and put it back up.”
He seemed too enthusiastic about this project for Louis to deny him the fun even though she would have preferred to work alone just to avoid having to explain the reason for the wreckage. She gave Liam an awkward thumbs up and they set to work.
Like Liam had said it didn’t take much to turn the fence back into something at least vaguely resembling its old shape. An hour later the two posts were standing up again and the wire was only a little bent and dirty. The sun was standing high in the sky by now, announcing that it was lunch time, when Liam straightened and took a step back to look at their work.
“That should do the job. Wanna grab lunch in town? I’m buying”, he offered and because Louis had nothing else to do and an ever-growing hole in her stomach she let herself be led to his car sitting by the side of the road.
*
They parked in the courtyard of an old stone building, its grey walls overgrown with vines. A red sign hung crookedly above a bunch of tables proudly proclaimed The Cock Inn and Louis tried her best not to let out an immature laugh.
“I know”, Liam grinned and held the door open for her. “Never gets old, that one.”
They split up then, Louis going to find a table in the bustling room filled with a bright variety of people on their lunch break and a few children chasing each other between the chairs, while Liam took off in the direction of the bar to order.
Five minutes later Liam set a basket of chips and two bottles of cider down on the table Louis had selected in a corner of the pub, sliding into the booth and sitting far too close to Louis for her liking. “There you go, it’s on me”, he said, pushing one of the drinks towards her. Maybe it was time to clarify something.
“Listen, Liam, no offence but I’m gay.” It came out a bit harsher than she intended and she winced a bit but it was too late to take it back now.
A flash of surprise mixed with a hint of what might be embarrassment was visible on Liam’s face for just a second before he schooled it into a more neutral expression. He didn’t move away though, maybe he was just someone with looser physical boundaries then.
“Oh um…cool. Sorry if I, you know, came onto you um…”
“It’s fine, you didn’t know, just thought I’d rather say something now than later.”
“So does that mean…you and Harry…she told me you were here for her Instagram thing but are you guys, like, a thing?”
“Harry? She’s gay?” Louis almost poked herself in the eye with the straw bobbing in and out of her bottle.
“The last time a guy tried to ask her out she punched him in the face and then grabbed the nearest girl to make out with. She was twelve.”
*
On Wednesday morning Louis came into the kitchen to find a completely green breakfast table, green smoothies, green fruit (“feijoa – eat like tamarillo” a neon green post-it instructed), green guacamole and even green bread, presumably baked this morning and dyed with food colouring. Louis’ laughter rung through the empty kitchen. Harry had come in with two large pizzas last night and Louis had done her best to finish hers but after the greasy pub lunch the pizza feast had resulted in an early night after a long complaint about how her stomach was going to explode and how her body was going to disintegrate into greasy goo from all the fat and “Harry, for the rest of my stay here I only want green things, I’ll live off nothing but spinach and grass from your backyard. I vow to never be unhealthy ever again!”
Wedged between a pot of green tea and a plate of cucumber sticks was another post-it: gone to work, be ready w/ swimming stuff at 12. If you haven’t got any check my wardrobe upstairs
Last night when they had talked about what to do after Harry got off work the next day she had been oddly secretive about their plans, only asking if Louis was up for an adventure and if she liked “outdoorsy stuff”.
Naturally she hadn’t brought anything to swim in, so after finishing her breakfast and dutifully uploading it to Instagram (captioned #tommomeetshaz day 2, someone has a new favourite colour, she never said she was big on creativity), this was the purpose of her trip after all, she climbed up the stairs to Harry’s room. It was the only room on the upper floor, a repurposed attic with the ceiling coming down so low closer to the walls that Louis had to crouch down a little where she was standing at the top of the stairs.
The furniture was a continuation of downstairs, simple light colours and shapes, nothing too extravagant to fit the small space. Louis would feel bad for snooping but Harry had encouraged her after all. The walls were covered in puzzles that had been put into wooden frames after being completed, the big kind with at least a thousand pieces, the ones that Louis could never quite find the patience to finish. The doors of the wardrobe opened with a creak to reveal a gigantic mess. Jeans on hangers, large button-up shirts crumpled on the open shelves, a mismatched collection of shoeboxes at the bottom, one labelled socks, another tights, so Louis supposed the swimsuits would be in there too.
With her knees clicking as they tended to do Louis crouched down and opened the first unlabelled box, almost throwing it across the room when her eyes fell on something neon coloured and- nope, no, absolutely not. The second box was just as bad, she may or may not be sweating slightly by now, containing soft cotton pants and lace bras, all in pastel colours and Louis really did not need to see that, there was no need for those visuals. Ready to give up and just pull a sickie to fake out of swimming she opened the third and final box and breathed out a sigh of relief, looking at a colourful assortment of bikinis. Thank God. With her own breasts being at least a cup size smaller than Harry’s, not that she spent even one minute thinking about them, she ended up picking a simple black sports bikini that was most likely to fit.
At precisely twelve noon on the dot Harry arrived home in a cloud of dust, loud pop music spilling from the windows of her car. “Get in, loser, we’re going swimming”, she laughed and pushed the passenger door open from the inside.
*
Parked off the road in the shade of a large tree, Harry rounded the car and extended a hand to Louis. “Come on then!”
Their sweaty palms pressed together, she let herself be led through a short bit of bushes and trees, downhill, not very steep but she was still glad to have Harry’s hand and definitely only because she’d have something to hold on if she tripped. For no other reason at all.
They ended up by the side of a river, moderately wide and moving lazily in the warm sun, rays of light shining all the way through the clear water and revealing a surprisingly clean riverbed. The bank of the river was a mix of smooth pebbles and coarse sand, littered with pieces of driftwood. Harry dropped their bags down on the ground and beckoned Louis over.
“Swim first or eat first?”
“Knowing you I’ll sink like a stone after eating your mountains of food, so I think I’d rather swim first and then stuff myself.”
Quickly, without looking at Harry because her brain was already going places she’d rather not, she stripped out of her clothes, her borrowed bikini already put on underneath, and slowly picked her way across the stones to the edge of the water.
“Is it safe to go in?”
“Yeah, the current isn’t strong at all, just don’t get the leeches get you”, Harry delivered in a flat tone.
“Leeches?” Louis’ voice went shrill at that and she spun around, saw Harry with her head stuck in her t-shirt and her soft stomach exposed. Nope.
The t-shirt came off and left her curly hair an unruly mess.
“I’m kidding, promise, no leeches.”
*
Even in the warm afternoon sun it quickly got cold so they eventually settled back on the riverbank wrapped in the towels Harry had brought and sipping on the smoothies she had procured from the depths of her bag.
“I know I already apologised but I really am sorry for the other day, it’s so nice having you here.”
“I told you, it’s fine. You should send a thank you letter to Instagram.” Louis settled back onto her elbows and let the sun warm her goosebumps-littered skin.
“Ah the powers of the internet. And then I’ll send a thank you letter to your brain because it was your idea to set this up.”
It had been her idea. Louis had got a bit bored of her own account, granted, not of the free food she got from places who wanted her to promote them or the occasional offer to write a piece for some travel site or another who wanted a feature on where to eat in London. But after seeing a bunch of people doing guest features to mix up their never-ending slightly overexposed, saturation just below centre feeds, she had got the idea to DM Harry.
“Yeah I guess; it was a good idea wasn’t it?” She sent a smile in Harry’s direction and got a beaming grin in return, dimples etched into the skin next to Harry’s lips.
“It was. I mean I was a bit creeped out when you just messaged me even though we had never talked before but you haven’t murdered me yet, so…”
“Just you wait”, Louis laughed and leaned further back, her head pillowed in the sand. She could do with a nap.
Harry seemed to have other plans.
“How did you get into it? What’s the enthralling history behind tommofortwo?”
Louis kept her eyes closed but turned her head to the side.
“Not that exciting, I was in uni and taking girls on dates was expensive, so it became a bit of a mission to find places that wouldn’t make me go bankrupt.”
“Lots of dates then?” Louis opened one eye and saw Harry’s arched brow and her teasing grin.
“You’re only young once, right? Nah, not really to be honest, the whole thing kicked off pretty quickly, by the time I had a thousand followers I was dragging friends on these dates.”
“What about now? Still forcing your friends to accompany you?” Louis had closed her eyes again, otherwise she might’ve noticed the hopeful look on Harry’s face.
“Yup. My mate Nick usually, he’s gayer than me if you can believe it but we pretend to be disgustingly in love and straight when we go for food, it’s hilarious.” Again she missed how Harry lit up at that, biting down on her lip to keep a happy sound from escaping. “How about you?”
“Oh you know, became a bit obsessed with cooking in uni when I had my own kitchen for the first time. Wanted to show off, posted it on Instagram and somehow people ended up liking it.”
“Uni? Aren’t you a chef or something?” Not that Louis knew a lot about how to become a chef but her uni definitely hadn’t offered a degree in cooking.
“Sous chef but I got a business degree. I had a part-time job cooking in a pub and later in a restaurant while I was in uni though and I stuck with that. Wasn’t ready for nine to five days in a stuffy office.”
And no, Louis really couldn’t imagine that, although the image of Harry in a suit wasn’t one she entirely disliked. Not at all.
*
Louis was dead. So dead. After another morning shift on Thursday Harry had picked her up again, taking her to the same spot by the river as the day before. The only difference was that this time Harry had declared “You’ve known me for long enough now, you don’t mind, right?” And then she had proceeded to strip, like strip completely in front of Louis and run into the water with a loud scream. Screaming seemed like a good idea right now.
With a tremendous effort Louis managed to pick her jaw off the floor. Cool. If Harry wanted to go skinny dipping in broad daylight and make Louis look at her that was cool, no problem at all.
“You are so gay and so dead”, she muttered to herself as she pulled her top and bra over her head in one fluid motion. Focussed intensely on getting out of her jeans without falling over she missed the way Harry’s eyes shot open at the sight of Louis dropping her clothes on the sandy ground one by one, face pinking and not from the summer sun.
Abandoning any shame or restraint Louis flung her arms out and ran to join Harry in the water, only coming to a stop when she was in up to her chest. She dunked her face underwater to cool her warm cheeks.
Before she had a chance to tell her brain to shut up though a hand wrapped around her ankle and pulled her completely underwater. Slippery limbs grappled for a moment before she re-emerged, faced with Harry looking like the picture of innocence until she inched closer and spat a mouthful of river water at Louis.
“You are the worst”, Louis shrieked before retaliating, wrestling with Harry in the slow moving river, their lack of clothing forgotten.
The next time their heads came out of the water they were a lot closer than before and Louis saw Harry’s gaze flick down to her lips for just a second before she pushed her back into the water with a shriek. Yup, Louis was definitely going to die.
They stayed by the river for hours until a breeze came up and Louis started shivering. “I could do with a fire to warm my hands right now.”
“We should totally build one”, Harry said excitedly. “I was in scouts when I was a kid I’m sure I can still do it.”
It turned out she could in fact not still do it. Despite a picture perfect stack of twigs and branches layered with dry grass the flame from Harry’s glittery pink lighter wouldn’t catch on. It was only after half an hour of trying (and failing) that Louis got her genius idea.
“Harry, can I borrow your deodorant for a second?” She had seen a spray-on deodorant peeking out of her swimming bag earlier.
“I’m not sure I wanna know why but yeah go ahead, it’s in my bag.”
Grabbing the can Louis made quick work of the lid and stole the lighter from Harry before she could object. She did object though when she saw Louis positioning the two objects in a makeshift flame thrower.
“Louis, no, absolutely not!”
“Just trust me”, she laughed and clicked the lighter.
“If you set yourself on fire I’ll kill you, I swear!”
The gas started flowing from the can, a neat flame building and getting their fire going.
“You were saying?”
Shooting her a look that clearly said she wasn’t happy about this Harry dragged a large log closer to their little fire and sat down on it, patting the spot next to her.
“You’ll regret sitting over there.”
Louis remained where she was sitting with crossed legs on the pebbled ground.
“Is that your best come-on?”
“No because-“ In that moment the breeze turned and blew a load of smoke right into Louis’ face, making her cough and splutter, her eyes instantly watering.
“ You were saying?” Harry smirked, throwing her words from earlier back at her, as Louis shuffled over and sat next to her, their shoulders touching lightly.
*
Louis woke up with a start and immediately felt her world tilting on its axis. Out of the corner of her she saw a fading speck of orange light which she might have identified as the dying fire if she hadn’t been so tired.
A quiet “oops” reached her ears when a hand slipped too high where it was wrapped around her torso, another one was supporting the back of her knees. Oh, someone was carrying her. She nuzzled her face into whatever soft thing it was resting against and smelled berries. Harry was carrying her then.
“Hmm soft”, she murmured. If she had looked up in that moment she would have seen Harry’s cheeks go so red, it was visible even in the almost pitch-black darkness. She dragged her hand up from its swinging position and poked Harry’s biceps.
“So soft and strong, doesn’t make sense”, nuzzling further into her makeshift pillow on Harry’s chest. “Like soft marble, milky marble cotton candy.” A second later she went back to sleep.
*
Louis had spent most of the day with Liam, Harry off to work after another extravagant breakfast. He had made good on a promise he had made to her in the pub to take her for a ride on his motorcycle, so they had done exactly that, Louis’ hair fluttering out from under her helmet as they zoomed down country lanes for most of the day. Eventually they had returned to the pub they had gone to the other day, settling into a booth with a couple of pints and their eyes glued to the telly hanging in the corner where a football match was on.
“Louis”, Harry said as soon as she stepped through the front door, stretching the i and giving her voice a pleading tone. “Because you’re leaving tomorrow, what’s your opinion on you cooking dinner tonight?”
And really her opinion should be a solid no because this can only go wrong but Harry was looking at her pleadingly, her bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly and Louis was honestly too gay to say no.
“I guess I can try?”
“Brilliant”, said Harry and skipped over to the fridge. “What are we making?”
Louis knew very well not to overestimate her cooking skills and settled on pasta, which Harry had a full cupboard of in all shapes and colours, including butterfly shaped rainbow coloured pasta (“Don’t judge, they were on sale!”). One move into preparing their meal however Harry intervened.
“You gotta put oil in it!” She reached around Louis who was standing at the cooker half-heartedly stirring the pasta with a fork, her arms coming around her from both sides, one hand holding a bottle of olive oil. After pouring a splash into the saucepan she set it down on the side but kept her arms around Louis.
“No need to stir, you can do the sauce while it boils.”
“Well, if you’re so much better at this then why don’t you do it!” Louis tried not to be put off, there was no denying that Harry was the better cook and was only trying to help but she had been feeding herself well enough for the past six years, thank you very much.
“Let’s do it together!” Harry said, wrapped her arms firmly around Louis’ middle and walked them over to the fridge. Louis let out the tiniest, not at all embarrassing squeak.
“Open”, she directed and Louis obliged. “Pull out the red sauce on the top shelf, I pre made it the other night.”
They waddled back to the cooker where more instructions followed (“Pour it in the small saucepan hanging on the left, set it on a medium heat.”). By the time the sauce was bubbling along happily the pasta was done as well and Harry finally let go of her, giving Louis’ face the chance to change back to a normal colour. If anyone asked it was because of the heat of the cooker.
“You know”, Harry said once they were sat at the table with steaming plates of pasta in front of them. “You should’ve made spaghetti so we could’ve done the thing from Lady and the Tramp!”
Louis’ reply was a suggestion to get drunk after dinner.
*
An hour later they found themselves outside the pub Louis had been to twice now, having walked there after dinner at Harry’s insistence: “I know it’s a bit of a walk but I don’t want either of us to be the designated driver tonight.”
So here they were, gazing up at the sign with matching smirks.
“If I wasn’t terrible at jokes I’d make one about two lesbians going into a pub with the word cock in its name.”
“Please don’t”, Louis deadpanned and stepped inside.
It was busier than she had thought it would be, every table filled with only a few seats by the bar left empty. The patrons from earlier in the day had been replaced by a younger crowd, save for a few older adults occupying what could only be the regulars’ corner. The bar staff had switched too, luckily for Louis, so no one would recognise this as being her second visit today.
“Louis, hey mate, haven’t seen you in at least five hours!” And there went her dreams of not being recognised.
Liam was sitting at a table in the corner surrounded by a small group of people their age and was waving enthusiastically with his half full pint, light beer almost spilling out over the top.
“Come sit with us you guys!”
Somehow they managed to find another chair which was given to Louis while Harry plopped down on the lap of a pretty girl with long dark hair all the way down her back. A round of introductions was made but Louis only remembered Sophia who she was shooting daggers at with her eyes for stealing Harry from her. It was ridiculous, really, Harry wasn’t hers at all but Louis had a lap too, didn’t she?
“I’m gonna go get drinks, what do you want?” Harry asked her as she got up again. “I’m buying?”
Louis forgot about her brief bout of jealousy immediately. “Surprise me!”
It turned out that had been the wrong answer because Harry returned to the table with two Red Bull and vodka and a small tray of brightly coloured shots. This wasn’t going to end well.
*
It only ended in semi chaos. It was past midnight, last orders had just been called and the pub was emptying slowly but steadily. Liam was in the process of leaving, an arm wrapped around Sophia (he sure moved on fast), just as Louis was doing her best to get Harry into a standing position.
She herself had slowed down on the shots after the third or fourth round but Harry had bumped into a friend she hadn’t seen “in aaaages”, as she proclaimed to the whole pub which had resulted in a fifth, sixth and seventh round for her. Safe to say, she was as far from sober as you could possibly get. If she hadn’t been tipsy herself she might have regretted having walked to the pub but she wasn’t really in the state to drive either.
“Come on you big oaf!”
Walking home was a lot harder than Louis had expected, Harry’s limbs essentially turned to jelly and her motivation to walk where Louis wanted her to pretty much nonexistent. Somehow they made it, with only one almost stumble into a ditch and a close call with a lamp post but with no cars in sight on the road leading out of town at least that was one thing less to worry about for Louis who had Harry hanging off her shoulder, blabbering on and on about nonsense into her neck.
Getting her up the stairs and into her room proved another feat, Harry at this point wrapped around Louis in a koala grip refusing to let go. Louis managed to maneuver her into bed, pulling off her shoes and her drink stained shirt. When she handed Harry a clean one to put on she complained.
“Too warm, come here for cuddles.”
Louis didn’t know why she let herself be pulled down next to Harry but the next second cocktail-flavoured lips were pressed against her own combined with an uncoordinated move from Harry to straddle her hips.
Louis pushed her away gently. “These aren’t cuddles.”
A pout was directed at her for barely a moment before Harry was coming closer again.
“Harry, listen, I’m flattered but you’re drunk and we have a week in London together.”
Another pout and a disappointed mewl.
“I’d rather not have you turn up on my doorstep and then do the awkward do we talk about it or do we act like it never happened dance.”
Harry’s pout deepened, it was of almost comical proportions now and it took every ounce of tipsy self-control Louis had not to giggle.
“Promise to take me on a date to one of your tiny table cafés”, she slurred.
“That’s the whole point of your trip, isn’t it?”
“No, I mean a date date. Promise?”
Louis had never been happier to make a promise. “I promise, I’ll give you fancy overpriced cappuccino, avocado cupcakes and tiny tables to fit your giraffe legs under.”
“First you’ll take me on a tiny table date and then we’ll do hazbites . Literally. Promise, yes?”
“If I must”, Louis said and pressed a kiss into Harry’s pub-scented hair. With that Harry finally settled into Louis’ arms and closed her eyes to go to sleep.
*
Waking up was no fun. Maybe it could have been, with Harry wrapped around her puffing soft breaths against her neck and the sun streaming in through the window, but waking up meant realising that it was time to leave.
Her mouth felt sticky when she opened it to whisper a quiet “good morning” into Harry’s hair, the taste of last night’s cocktails still on her tongue. A moment later Harry was sitting up, clutching the duvet to her chest, with a slightly panicked expression on her face.
“Oh shit. Did we…? Shit”
“Harry, no! You were drunk, I would never-“
“Then where is my shirt and why are you in my bed?”
“Because you spilled your drink down your shirt and when I tried to get you to change into a new one you attacked me koala-style. I can’t believe you thought I would take advantage of you like that!” And she really couldn’t believe it, didn’t think she seemed like someone capable of doing such a thing.
“Sorry, god, I’m sorry Louis”, Harry rushed out, her frown turning into an apologetic look. “Just, bad experiences, dumb uni times, promised myself not to do this stuff drunk anymore.”
She still looked awkward, like there was something else she wanted to say.
“Did I, um, say anything? Like, anything embarrassing? Because if I did I’m sorry for that too.”
Harry’s cheeks were bright red now and it took everything Louis had not to press kisses all over her face, even though her own cheeks were rapidly gaining colour as well and she decided honesty was her best option here.
“You might have tried to get me to sleep with you.” Harry groaned and buried her face in the duvet she still held bunched up in front of her.
“And you made me promise that if I said no last night, I’d say yes when you visit me in a few weeks.”
“Well at least we’re equal now, with embarrassing things said while pretty out of it”, Harry grinned, awkwardness gone.
“What?” Louis spluttered out.
“The other night after we went swimming, I carried you to the car because I didn’t want to wake you up and you had a lovely little conversation with yourself about how I’m so soft and strong at the same time.”
Not it was Louis’ turn to groan. “Oh god, I thought I’d dreamt that.”
“It’s ok, I took it as a compliment.” And then: “Would you though?”
“Would I what?”
“When I come to London, would you?”
“Yeah, I think I would.”