Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Haz," Louis breathes, letting out a small sigh of relief. Harry looks up from her phone and ahead at the girl in front of her. Harry smiles, seeing Louis' relieved expression. She moves to the front of the line, shoving her phone into her pocket and leaning up against the counter. Harry lets her eyes roam over Louis' apron-clad body, the disheveled look of her makeup and hair.

Harry meets eyes again with Louis, smiling to the left of her face and tucking some of her curly hair behind her ear. "Lou. If I didn't know any better, I'd say I just improved your whole day," Harry smirks. Cocky girl.

"If you're here to buy me tea and give me a ride home, since my shift ends in ten minutes, then you did," Louis smiles, adjusting her hat. Lou works at this little locally owned cafe that Harry has loved since forever.

"Aw, Louis, anything for you. As long as we're using your employee discount and throwing in a couple of pastries," Harry grins, her green eyes glistening. Louis swallows, never breaking eye contact. "You wanna sleep over tonight? I need help annotating some documents, gotta create an outline for my DBQ."

"Anything for you, H," Louis murmurs, winking at Harry and punching their orders into the register. She's had them memorized for months. Louis has been sleeping over at Harry's a lot since she broke up with her boyfriend a couple weeks ago. At first she thought it was because she was heartbroken, then she realized she just really, really enjoyed Harry's company. Nothing wrong with that, just gals being pals. Even if Harry is the gayest person Louis knows, she herself is at least mostly straight.

So Louis gives Harry her total, applying all kinds of discounts which were entered into the system as 'coupon codes', then bags up their pastries and hands her the bag. Harry thanks Louis with a radiant grin that warms Louis' heart, Harry's dimples brilliant. Then Louis goes and hangs up her apron and hat, clocks out, and meets Harry on the other side of the counter.

"Ready?" Harry asks, handing Louis her tea. Louis nods and wraps both of her hands around the cup, bracing herself for the cold outside. Together they walk out to Harry's small car and duck inside quickly, Louis already reaching to turn the heat up. Harry keeps her car so cold. Or maybe Louis just needs to be really warm. Harry laughs at Louis' curses at the temperature, and starts the car.

"Buckle up, Boo," Harry hums, handing her the aux cord. Louis sighs and puts on her seatbelt before scrolling to the playlist on her phone she created for Harry, titled with a moon emoji. Why? Well, because Harry is a moon lesbian. And while Louis denies that she even made the playlist for Harry, much less named it for her, Harry has seen the emoji, she recognizes all the music, and she knows exactly what Louis is playing at. She remembers having that conversation with Louis, where she dubbed herself a moon lesbian, and told Louis that she would definitely be a sun lesbian. Harry has a playlist on her phone titled by a sun emoji. You do the math.

Soon enough, Harry is humming along to "Valerie," by Amy Winehouse, and Louis is texting a few of her friends. "Oh God, Haz, do you remember Becca, from English last semester?" she rolls her eyes. Harry thinks for a while, then nods and hums a sound of affirmation. "She thinks you're crazy hot, I think she wants you to ask her out," Louis grins.

"How do you know that?" Harry smiles, "Not the part about me being crazy hot, everybody knows that."

Louis rolls her blue eyes again, "She's literally texting me about it right now, fuckhead. So conceited."

"Mm. Not conceited. Self-aware. Anyways, why would she text you about that? Since when do you text Becca From English Last Semester?" Harry mumbles, tossing a look in Louis' direction before focusing her attention back on the road.

"I don't. She only has my number because of that project we did in the middle of the semester, she's texting me to learn more about you," Louis explains.

Harry slows the car to a stop before a red light. "Yeah? Mm. She's pretty cute, isn't she? Maybe I will ask her out," she says, looking over at Louis, noticing how the red from the stoplight looks on her skin, making those blue eyes just sparkle, her skin looking smooth as ever.

Louis is thankful for the lighting, because it must be pretty hard to see the blush in her cheeks. "No way, H, Becca was crazy," she says. Harry chuckles a little, reaching over and touselling Louis' pixie-cut hair as the light turns green.

"I like 'em crazy," Harry teases, "wanna stop for ice cream?"

"No," Louis scowls, taming her hair. "I'm freezing. Anyways, Harry, you can not date Becca. I'll burn your house down, swear to God, do not let that Satan spawn into your home."

Harry laughs, signalling to turn onto her street. "At first she was just crazy, now she's the child of Satan himself? You know you've got my heart Lou, no need to be jealous of poor little Becky." Louis is angered by this, to an irrational extent, but she's one-hundred percent heterosexual, why would she be bothered by her insanely attractive lesbian best friend calling her jealous? Unless she thinks Harry is right.

"Becca," Louis mutters under her breath. "You know, I'm starting to think I shouldn't stay out on a school night," she grumbles, crossing her arms. Harry shakes her head, cocky smile never leaving her lips.

"You're not staying out, you're staying in, with me," she says, checking the time on her watch. Only 7:08 P.M. as they pull into Harry's driveway.

"I hate you," Louis sighs.

"You got the dagger, though," Harry whispers breezily, winking at Louis as she kills the engine. "Hurry in, love, you know how you get cold."

"I know," the smaller girl mumbles, in response to both of Harry's statements. Then she shuffles out of the car and follows Harry into the home. And if she was checking out Harry's ass on the way in, who has to know? Well, I know. And you know. And even though she never turned around, Harry knows.

Harry lives in a small two-story Victorian house, the exterior painted a light yellow, with a small porch and surrounded in magnificent flower beds and hanging garden baskets. She refused to live in a dorm or apartment, claiming they weren't homey enough. That's why when she and Louis hang out, it's always at her house, Louis lives in a small apartment right in the middle of campus. Although, Louis has the most homey apartment Harry has ever been in. She's not afraid to admit that it's probably because it's Louis', and Louis just makes everything feel like home.

On the first floor of Harry's house is a small kitchen, a living room with a fireplace and the softest couch you'll ever sit on, a study, a bathroom, the laundry room, and a small dining room that connects to the kitchen. Up the stairs is her bedroom, a guest bedroom, two more bathrooms, and a room that just has a piano and a violin sitting in it, along with a huge chest just filled with sheet music and a couple of music stands. The whole house has little air plants and succulents and terrariums sitting on every shelf or windowsill imaginable. It's a lively place.

As they walk in and drop their coats onto the coffee table in the living room, Louis crosses the room and picks up a bra that was strung across the back of the couch with one of her fingers. "Clean up after yourself, slob, your laundry room is just down the hall," Louis rolls her eyes.

Harry grins and plops down on the couch, stretching her long legs out in front of her. "That's not mine."

Louis drops the bra. "Whose is it?"

"God, whose is it? What was her name? Shit. Short, redhead, purple lipstick, uh...." Harry thinks, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You're terrible," Louis mumbles, sitting on the other end of the couch. Harry just shrugs and smiles at Louis.

"She was beautiful, sure wish I remembered her name," she sighs wistfully.

"God, don't talk about your failed love life while I'm around, let's just write that outline so we can get it out of the way," Louis says.

Harry nods and rolls her eyes before standing and walking down the hallway to her study to grab her binder. Louis remains on the couch, wrapping her arms around herself for warmth, until she spots one of Harry's sweatshirts on the chair opposite her. Louis loves wearing Harry's outerwear, not because they're Harry's, but because they are always nice and big and warm and they smell like cinnamon. Like Harry.

Harry walks back in to see Louis in her favorite crewneck, her legs folded underneath her, combing through her hair with her fingers. The sight of Louis in Harry's clothes is enough to hold Harry in her spot for a solid five seconds, standing there at a loss for words, dumbfounded. Louis doesn't always get to Harry like this, usually she can hide the fondness she feels, but every now and then she's just completely frozen, speechless. Louis looks up and meets eyes with Harry, quickly seeing Harry's expression and smiling, leaning back a little and clasping her hands together.

"I was cold," Louis explains, staring into Harry's eyes. It's almost like she recognized Harry's admiration and loved it, tried to play it up even more. Like she feeds off of it.

"Always cold," Harry mumbles. She walks over and sets the binder down on the coffee table before scooting next to Louis.

"What's the DBQ over?" Louis asks.

Harry, now regaining composure, grabs a packet and hands it to Louis before settling into the couch, against Louis' side. "French Revolution."

Louis grins. "The French Revolution is-"

"Your favorite historic event since the fall of the Roman Empire," Harry finishes. "I know, Boo. Why do you think I had you over?"

Louis shrugs. "Because you're obsessed with me," she states simply, skimming some of the documents.

"True," Harry smiles, "unless I'm in it for the cheap warm tea and pastries. Hey, where did those pastries go, by the way?"

"Kitchen countertop," Louis mumbles, reading over the packet as Harry gets up and heads toward the kitchen. "Okay. You'll want to organize it into different paragraphs for each cause of the revolution, using transitions to show how the causes connect, not how they're similar, because a lot of the causes were all effects of each other, y'know? So start with the corruption and spending of the nobility, and how sucky King Louis XVI was. Mkay?"

"Mkay," Harry replies, biting into a slice of banana bread. "The king before him was pretty bad too, right?" Louis nods, motioning for Harry to come back over to her. She's getting cold again, and she wants some banana bread, too. So Harry lets Louis cuddle into her side and finish off the banana bread as she writes out her outline, Louis adding little bits of information and suggestions for revisions along the way. It only takes Harry about twenty minutes to finish all of her work.

"I don't have classes tomorrow," Louis mumbles, resting her head against Harry's shoulder.

Harry smiles. "Lucky girl. I've only got two, I guess, and neither are very long or terrible, and I don't have to be there until like 12:00. So I suppose we'll both have slow days," she says. "Wanna get drunk?"

"I do, I do want to get drunk," Louis sighs, impressed and relieved at how well Harry can read her. "Do you have wine? I need wine."

"I always have wine," Harry chuckles, "stay here, Boo. Be right back." Harry stands, shaking her hair so it falls down her back, long and unruly as ever. She goes to her pantry and grabs her and Louis' favorite bottle of wine, along with two glasses, and then pads back through the kitchen to the couch.

"You're such a saint," Louis declares, taking a glass from Harry.

Harry twists the cork off the bottle. "Hardly," she replies smugly, glancing over at the stray bra they had found earlier. "God, what was that name? Jill? Ginger? Julie? Fuck, I dunno," she mumbles to herself, filling Louis' glass and then her own. Louis practically chugs the entire glass before Harry can even finish pouring her own, causing Harry to grin and shake her head.

"Thanks," Louis breathes, as Harry fills her glass a second time.

"Always here to fuel your impending alcoholism," Harry smiles, relaxing into the couch and wrapping an arm around Louis, encouraging her to do the same. "You seem tense, Lou," Harry says, sipping from her wine. "Seriously, is something going on?"

The smaller girl sighs. "I dunno, Haz. I guess I'm just stressed in general. My classes are hard and I'm poor and I'm single and for some reason, that last relationship didn't even feel like it happened and I didn't feel anything when it was over, I worry I'm becoming emotionless. And I feel like I live off of everyone around me," Louis confesses, drinking more of her wine.

"Like me?" Harry asks, listening intently the whole time. Louis always goes to Harry with problems. Harry's one of the best listeners in the world, she thinks. Come to think of it, Louis goes to Harry for anything.

"Yeah, like you," Louis admits. "I appreciate you so much, you're the best friend I could ask for, and your hair is so pretty and we have matching tattoos," she continues in a whiney voice.

"I know we do," Harry replies, smiling softly. "You know, maybe that relationship was weird because you two were into each other for the wrong reasons. I mean, were you ever really yourself around him? You don't have to answer that one, I've third-wheeled with you before and let me tell you, that was not the Lou I know and love. It probably wasn't meant to be," she says, watching Louis down her second glass of wine.

"You're right," Louis admits.

"I'm always right," Harry replies. "And you know, you're allowed to live off of me. You're still one of the most hardworking, independent people I know."

"You're poor too, Harry," Louis rolls her eyes and goes for a third glass of wine.

"Easy there, tiger," Harry laughs, grabbing the bottle from Louis. Their noses almost brush when Louis looks up at her and Harry's insides feel all kinds of jumbled. "Slow down. You know, you could move in with me. I've got that guest room, we could both benefit financially, and it wouldn't be so quiet in here all the time." Not to mention the fact that the only reason Harry wanted a house instead of an apartment was so that it could feel like home. Nothing makes Hary feel more at home than Louis. And Louis? Louis feels the same way, they both know it.

Louis thinks about that for a while. Does she really want to go through the whole process of moving houses just to move into a house she already spends a third of her time in already? To live with a girl that she constantly sees anyways? Would that be worth it? Is Harry worth it? Well, of course she is. Now that she's thinking about it, Louis doesn't see why they havent proposed that earlier. It's a good idea. Harry's house is big enough for the two of them. Big house and a heart to match.

"Mm. Yeah. Yeah, okay, good idea, H," Louis says. "I'll talk to the landlord and stuff this weekend." She feels Harry's breath on her shoulder.

"Really?" Harry grins. "Aw. Brilliant, love. I mean, you practically live here already, it makes sense," she says. Louis leans into Harry's chest, her head resting on Harry's collarbones. Harry nuzzles the top of Louis' head. It makes sense.

Louis nods against Harry's body, and waits for Harry to finish her first glass of wine before asking for a third. Harry replies with her usual "Anything for you, Lou," and refills both of their glasses. They slowly drink together, finishing off the rest of the wine. Louis ended up getting much more drunk than Harry, but Harry is pretty drunk too.

Harry's a little overwhelmed, this beautiful girl wearing her clothes and drinking her wine and sitting in her lap, their bodies still pressed against each other. It's a lot for someone as obsessed as Harry is. Not to mention the alcohol in both of their systems, and the fact that they're going to start living together. As if they weren't already married enough. Harry also happens to know that Louis gets really clingy and starts questioning her sexuality once she gets to a certain level of drunkness. She's not sure if she's mentally prepared for that tonight, or not.

But ready or not, within a few minutes, Louis has slumped against Harry and turned to the side so that they can look at each other, their arms around each other for support. "Haz," Louis slurs, mouth red and delicious-looking. It physically pains Harry to tear her eyes from Louis' mouth. "D'you ever wonder if I'm actually gay?" There it is.

"Part of me kinda wonders if every girl is actually gay. I love girls, Lou," Harry replies.

"No but like," Louis whines, "like me in particular."

Harry is quiet. "Do you?"

"Yeah," Louis says. "Or maybe I'm just completely unlovable and unfuckable, that's why none of my relationships work," she sighs, burying her face in Harry's chest.

"Are you shitting me? Louis, I swear to God. You're the most lovable, fuckable girl I've ever seen, are you serious?" Harry says.

Louis shrugs, hiding a grin in Harry's sweater. "I dunno, I'm just not good with guys," she mumbles.

Harry hates Louis for lying so close to her chest, because she feels like her heart is going to fly out of it at any second. She's gotta get a grip when she's around this girl. "I promise, it's not you," Harry says.

"I remember when you were questioning," Louis says, "at first you were just a really invested ally. Then you made out with that Maggie girl."

"Maggie," Harry smiles.

"Haz, how'd you go from questioning to knowing exactly who you were?" Louis asks, looking up at Harry and tugging on one of her curls, watching it bounce.

Harry whines. "Lou, we do this literally every time you get drunk," she says.

"I know," Louis says, "but for real this time. I usually just whine about how girls are so hot and how I want to date all of them, I'm asking valid questions this time." She's correct.

So Harry sighs, and stretches her legs out in front of her, and wraps her arms around Louis. "Honestly, Lou, I've got no idea. I still don't know exactly who I am or what I'm supposed to be. I just know that I really like girls a whole lot," she says. "Maybe we should find you that Maggie girl, she seemed to work for me," Harry teases, lazily tickling Louis' sides.

Louis giggles a little, swatting Harry's hands away. "Maggie is not my type," Louis states.

"Just now considering the fact that you might like girls and you already have a type?" Harry smiles into Louis' hair. Louis nods. "What is it?"

"Hmm," Louis says, closing her eyes. "Let's see. Tall, probably. Cute bum. Not as cute as mine, but... Eyes. Good eyes. Pretty hair. Nice teeth. Good hygiene. Likes tea and making tea for me," Louis mumbles.

Harry's mouth is dry. "You sleepy, Lou?"

"Nah. Not yet. I can last for hours," Louis says.

Harry grins. "Well, I mean, so can I, but I don't like to brag," she says cockily.

Louis immediately blushes and shoves her hands over her face. "I didn't mean it like that you fucking sicko," she shouts, shoving Harry gently. Harry just grins harder and wraps her arms around Louis even tighter, then stands up off the couch.

"C'mon, Boo, let's do some drunk baking," Harry says, stretching her arms above her head.

Louis rolls her eyes. "That's gay."

"I'm gay."

"I know," Louis says, "it wasn't an insult. That's just something you would do," she explains.

"Lou, not every aspect of my life is gay, just because I do it doesn't make it a gay thing," Harry laughs, grabbing Louis' hand and leading her into the kitchen. Louis hops up onto the counter, crossing her ankles and swaying a little as Harry pulls out various pots and pans, boxes of flour and cartons of eggs.

"What are we making?" Louis asks. "I hope it's muffins."

"Muffins," Harry replies, snatching some strawberries and blueberries from the fridge. "I need to get into that cabinet above you."

"So get into it," Louis says, not moving from her seat on the counter. She moves her legs apart a little so Harry could stand between them, and suddenly Harry's chest and throat feel like they're closing up.

Harry swallows. "Actually, I've got muffin tins down here, too," she mumbles, crouching to find her other set of baking tins. Louis remains on the counter while Harry bakes, humming Fleetwood Mac to provide sound for the both of them. Harry suddenly feels like she's in way over her head. For once in her life, Harry Styles feels incredibly nervous and intimidated around a girl. Not just any girl, though, her best friend. She's usually not even like this around Louis, though, but when Louis starts saying she might like girls and cuddling up to Harry and singing Harry's favorite songs, things change.

It's torturous, really, being so close to Louis in a platonic way. Their relationship borders on romantic or sexual far, far too often to be healthy to Harry. If only Louis knew how badly Harry wants her. Harry wishes she could tell Louis that she should experiment with girls to find out what she likes, casually remind Louis that she's not seeing anyone and that she's an amazing kisser, but Harry couldn't bring herself to do that. Not while Louis is vulnerable and confused, Louis has to ask her, let Harry know that she wants it. So far, she hasn't.

Harry's only cooling rack is in the cabinet above Louis' head. She really does need to get to it. "Lou," Harry says. "Now I actually do have to get into that cabinet."

Louis just looks at her, her chin tilted up, eyelashes thick around those big blue eyes. She quirks an eyebrow at Harry, moves her legs apart again, and silently beckons her forward. Louis' eyes are dark. In any other situation, Harry would take that as a clear "go ahead" and just immediately attack Louis in every sense of the word. Louis wouldn't have even known what happened, she'd be so quick. But Louis is drunk and vulnerable, and Harry couln't live with herself if anything happened between the two of them while they were in that state.

So, using all kinds of self-control, Harry goes and stands between Louis' thighs. She has to hold Louis' knees to create a larger opening for herself, and as soon as she does, Louis wraps her legs around Harry's waist. Harry lets out a very audible whimper, and places both of her hands beside Louis' hips on the countertop. Her forehead falls against Louis' collarbones and she feels Louis' hands on the back of her neck. Louis starts pulling Harry's dark hair back into a bun, so Harry just stands there, the feeling of Louis' soft thighs through her jeans around her waist enough to drive her mad.

Harry looks up at Louis after a while, smelling the wine on both of their mouths and in that moment, Harry is so, incredibly weak. She reaches up and tucks some of Louis' short hair behind her ear, Louis watching her every movement.

"What do you want from me, Louis?" Harry whispers.

Louis holds Harry's face in her hands. "Haz, honestly, I'll take whatever you can give me," she replies. "Do you want to kiss me right now?"

"Yeah," Harry answers, her heart pounding like never before. She feels Louis' eyes on her lips.

"Do it," Louis says. She leans in a little closer, close enough to smell the cinnamon scent that is always on Harry and the mint-scented curl cream she uses in her hair. Harry scoots a tiny bit closer to Louis, and the world is holding its breath.

Harry presses her forehead against Louis'. "I can't."

Louis frowns and leans back a little. "Why not?"

"You're drunk."

"I'm okay," Louis argues.

Harry shakes her head. "You're vulnerable," she mumbles.

"I want you," Louis sighs, pouting.

"I respect you," Harry counters, removing the hands she didn't even know she placed on Louis' back. Louis lets out a pouty exhale and crosses her arms over her chest.

"Why are you always so reasonable and considerate?" Louis asks.

Harry sighs, finally reaching up to grab that cooling rack. "Unfortunately, babe, you'll thank me in the morning."

"What makes you say that?" Louis frowns, hopping down off the counter and following Harry through across the kitchen.

"You're always straight when you're sober, 100% heterosexual," Harry replies, her own words making her even more upset.

"I wouldn't say that," Louis mutters, planting her head between Harry's shoulder blades.

Harry sighs, dumping the muffins onto the cooling rack, then carrying them over to the fridge for the night. "You're killing me, Tommo," she says, turning and leaning against the refrigerator with her arms crossed over her chest.

Louis gives her a very, very sad look. "You know I'd never try to hurt you," she says.

"Never," Harry agrees. "Let's go to bed, Boo."

"Can we sleep in your room, together?" Louis asks. Harry just nods and they head for the stairs.

"No funny business," Harry says sternly as they start changing into pajamas. She hears Louis mumble a sound of agreement from the corner as she pulls on an old pair of cotton shorts. By the time she turns around, Louis is already in her bed, under the covers, waiting for Harry to join her. And God, if the sight of Louis just staring at her from Harry's bed doesn't drive her insane. I mean, Louis has been in Harry's bed before, tons of times. But this time it's... different.

Harry walks over to turn off the lights then climbs in bed next to Louis. Louis starts to move closer to her, probably cold again and looking for warmth, when Harry says "Okay goodnight Louis," and abruptly turns her back to the smaller girl and shoves her face in a pillow. This is the most frustrating thing Harry has ever endured in her life.

After a little while, she feels two very cold hands press into her back. They creep down and under her shirt so that the two small hands are chilling her bare skin. "Louis," Harry grumbles.

"No funny business," Louis says, "just showing you how bloody cold I am. Trying to make you feel bad for not cuddling me."

"Louuuuu," Harry whines, goosebumps raising all over her skin.

"Would it make you feel worse to know that my hands get colder when I'm sad? And rejection makes me sad?" Louis adds, her hands finding their way down Harry's hips. They stay there, no funny business, as promised. Harry eventually lets out an exasperated exhale, and turns around. She flops onto her back, even though she hates sleeping on her back, and pulls Louis' body to hers. A victorious Louis smiles and rests her head on Harry's chest, wrapping her legs around Harry's tired body. She got up at 5 this morning to go for a run.

"Please let me sleep, now," Harry pleads, slowly stroking Louis' hair. Louis doesn't say anything, just nods, and presses a chaste kiss to Harry's collarbone. It's enough to warm Harry's whole chest, to make her tighten her grip on the smaller girl next to/on top of her. It didn't take long for them to fall asleep after that.

When Harry wakes up, Louis is still wrapped around her body, Harry's hands in her hair and Louis' arms around her. Louis is already awake, staring up at Harry with groggy blue eyes. "Shit," Louis curses when she sees Harry's green eyes. Harry frowns and arches an eyebrow at her. "I was gonna pretend like I was asleep when you woke up."

"You hidin' from me?" Harry asks, stretching her arms over her head.

"Little bit," Louis mumbles, hiding her face in Harry's chest.

"You embarrassed?" Harry asks, stroking the side of Louis' face. "For last night?"

Louis is quiet. "Little bit."

Harry nods, trying to hide the immense amounts of disappointment and frustration and sadness she was feeling. She wants to give this girl the world. She knows that she could make her the happiest girl on the planet; she'd never make her sad or uncomfortable or insecure, she'd just constantly tell her she loves her and kiss her face and call her beautiful. She deserves it.

"Why didn't you kiss me?" Louis asks, her voice small. Embarrassed to even ask.

"You wouldn't want that," Harry mumbles, avoiding Louis' gaze. "Not now. Not while you're sober."

Louis frowns. "Why do you say that?"

"Because, Boo. We've done this before. It's never been as serious and intense as it was last night, but we've been through it. And you always sober up. And you're always still another straight girl out to break my heart," Harry says. With those words, Louis feels her heart harden. Harry didn't even mean to say them, it just kinda... happened. There's a million things Louis wants to tell the tall girl beneath her, a million promises to make and reassurances to give, but she just can't find the words.

Harry checks her watch. "Oh fuck, I'm gonna be late for class," she groans, swiftly getting out of bed.

"You can't skip just this once?" Louis asks softly. Everything about her is so soft. "I really wanna talk to you."

Harry could skip. So far she's only missed one class and today they've just got another lecture, no new assignments, and she can copy the notes from literally anybody. "Not today, Louis," she mumbles, and without another word, ducks into her bathroom to get ready to head to class. When she returns a few minutes later, Louis is still frozen in her spot in Harry's bed. She looks up and gives Harry a very sad look, and Harry swears she sees tears welling up in those blue eyes of hers.

"Don't look at me like that, Boo," Harry says softly, dragging a pair of skinny jeans up her lanky legs.

"Like what? Like it turns out I know nothing about myself or my life or my relationships? Or like my favorite person in the entire world doesn't look like she wants anything to do with me because I just continuously break her heart, like all the other straight girls out there?" Louis asks.

Harry pulls off her shirt and puts on a clean bra. "Louis, the fact that you might like girls doesn't change anything about who you are or what your life is. Look, I'm sorry I said you were just another straight girl. You just don't understand," Harry says, rummaging for a shirt.

"Oh, of course. How could I ever understand anything about heartbreak or wanting someone, it's not like I'm a human. Forgive me, Oh Wise Lesbian God of Wonder,"Louis snaps.

"Listen," Harry hisses, spinning on her heel to face the angry girl in her bed. "When I've come to you wth every problem I've ever had and cry about it on your shoulder then go back to some boy who doesn't care about me half as much as you do, you'll understand. When you go your whole life being led on by straight girl after straight girl who you don't even have a slight chance with, no matter how pretty or sweet you are, you'll understand. When you finally find someone who you feel like you can really give yourself to, who you think really completes you, and then you have them always walk right out of your arms and into the arms of someone they barely know or trust, you'll understand.

"When you go out and meet girls and flirt with girls and take girls home with you, knowing that they're only there to distract you from how badly you want me, you'll understand. When you're ready to give every second of every day to me, when you're ready to give everything you have just to be with me, when I'm the only thing that makes you feel like you're home, and then when I leave, again and again, you'll understand. When you want me the way I want you, you'll understand. But none of those scenarios were from your point of view, Louis. Do you know whose they were from?"

The room is the quietest it has ever been. Louis is completely still and silent. "Answer, Louis," Harry demands.

"It's from yours, Haz," Louis responds quietly. Harry nods once, trying to catch her breath and assess the situation and God, what does she do? Standing there in front of Louis, wearing jeans she hasn't even completely pulled over her hips yet and a black bra and no socks.

Louis just stares at her, helpless, confused, distressed. Harry looks at her feet for a while, then tugs her jeans up, not quite high enough to cover the laurels on her hips. So she nods again and grabs some random tee shirt that could have even been Louis', she didn't check, and throws a flannel over that, and then she walks out without so much as a glance in Louis' direction.

Now, don't get her wrong, she still cares very deeply for Louis. More deeply than she cares for anybody she isn't related to. But she just can't handle confronting Louis right now. She's halfway to school when she realizes she drove Louis over to her house, so Louis is going to have to call somebody else for a ride, or just stay there until Harry gets home in a couple of hours. Knowing Louis, she would call her ex.

"Fuck," Harry curses, suddenly feeling much more inconsiderate than she did a few moments ago. She decides to call Louis on her way into her first class.

"Harry?" Louis says immediately, the phone only ringing for half a tone. "I didn't mean to hurt you, I'm so, so fucking sorry."

"I know, Lou," she sighs. "Stay there, okay? We can talk when I get home. I'll be back at like, 3:00, I promise I won't yell at you again," Harry says. She's now starting to feel guilty for that.

"I deserved it," Louis says, "okay. I'll be here." Always, is the word she wants to add to the end of that statement. But she doesn't. She doesn't want to upset Harry any more than she already has.

"Okay. See you soon, Louis," Harry says.

"Bye, Haz," Louis replies half-heartedly.

And of course, Harry can't think about anything but Louis through the entirety of her first class, so she takes no notes, absorbs no information. But God, how can she focus when she and Louis could have easily made out last night? They could have easily done a lot more than that.

And of course, in Harry's second class, they're having a group discussion in which you gain points for participation. And Harry knew the material being discussed, usually she takes full advantage of these point opportunities. But today she simply added one or two facts throughout the whole discussion and was otherwise completely not engaged. All she can think about is LouisLouisLouis, the way her lips probably taste, the way her thighs felt around Harry's waist, and about that small kiss she gave Harry on the chest before they fell asleep. What did she want? God, what is going on?

And back at Harry's house, Louis isn't doing too well, either. I mean, it's not like she can stop thinking about Harry, she's in Harry's goddamn house. Everything here is hers. Everything here reminds her of Harry. So she's just moping about, tidying up the messes they made last night in the kitchen, and the wine glasses in the living room.

And thinking. About Harry. And how much she must be hurting from all this. Louis wonders how many times she's hurt Harry this same way in the past without realizing it. She honestly had no idea that Harry was so into her. Maybe if she did know, well. Maybe things would have been different. She probably shouldn't have led Harry on last night, but she didn't regret it until Harry got upset. Then again, Harry only got upset because Louis said that she was embarrassed. But when Harry was standing between her legs last night, and they were the same height, and her hands were on Harry's neck, she didn't care. About anything, about her sexuality or what people thought or anything in the world except Harry.

Of course Harry didn't let anything happen, she's so good about that. She's so particular and careful when it comes to consent and stuff. Now Louis knows that Harry must have really, really wanted to kiss her, it must have been so hard for her to not. Not to mention how jealous Louis got at the thought of Harry dating some other girl, yesterday in the car. Louis got jealous seeing that other girl's bra in Harry's house, even though she was obviously pretty irrelevent, as Harry couldn't even remember her name. The thing is, Harry doesn't date girls. Not really. Not now that they're in school.

She claims that it's because she can't make the time commitment right now. Louis isn't so sure if she believes that anymore. I mean, she did say that all of her little one night stands were just distractions. Which is something to think about. Really.

By the time Harry does come home, they're both nervous and stressed out and scared. Harry now completely regrets everything she said to Louis this morning, she's completely fine with going back to just being friends with Louis if it means they can still be friends. Harry does want her in her life, even if it means they'll never be together, that's not Harry's top priority. Her top priority is keeping Louis happy and loved and cared for, keeping her in Harry's life. It would just be a lot easier more fun to do those things if they were together. But, apparently beggers can't be choosers.

Louis stands in the middle of the living room, Harry stands in the doorway. Harry isn't quite sure what to do, but boy, do they have a lot to talk about. Louis beckons her over, and they sit on the couch together.

Louis takes a deep breath. "Usually when I get drunk, my memory of what happened the night before is a bit hazy. But I've got the clearest image in my mind of the way you looked at me when I was sitting on that counter," she starts.

"Louis, I-" Harry tries to interrupt, but Louis cuts her off.

"Let me finish. You looked at me like I was a god. Like you would do anything in the world for me, like you would give anything in the world for me. Honestly, Harry, I've never seen anyone look at me like that before. You also kinda looked like I was physically hurting you, and now I know I probably was. I had no idea that you were so into me, Haz," Louis breathes.

Harry's face is hot. "Surprise," she mumbles, running her hands through her hair. "Sorry? What do you want me to say, Louis?"

"You don't have to say anything," Louis replies, reaching out and placing a hand on Harry's knee. "I just really need you to know that I care so deeply for you, I would never, ever want to hurt you in any way, I really apologize for anything that I need to apologize for," Louis says, scanning Harry's face.

Harry takes a long breath in and a long breath out. "It's okay, Lou. I hope you don't hate me for being so obsessed with you. You're just... fuck, there are no words, but I understand if any or all of this makes you uncomfortable, I really value your friendship and I'd like us to be able to go back to where we were. I'd still like you to move in. And I'm sorry I yelled and got so upset this morning, I just want things to go back to the way they were," Harry sighs, spinning around on her ass and lying down with her head in Louis' lap.

Louis is more than disappointed. She doesn't want things to go back to the way they were. She wants to kiss Harry's face off and take her somewhere nice for dinner. But she's also relieved, because yeah, she really cares about Harry, and as long as Harry doesn't hate her, she's fine.

Harry is just devastated and disappointed. She and Louis had a real shot, she really thinks they did, and then she fucked it up. She's kinda heartbroken. Harry has never been so close to finally getting Louis, and somehow it all just... went away. But she finds herself calming down a little when Louis starts stroking her hairline, untangling her hair with her fingers. Harry's hair really is pretty long. Like the rest of her. Arms, legs, torso, fingers, tongue. Most of those, though, she uses to her advantage, in different ways.

"Lou," Harry says, "I can take you home if you wanna go get ready for work," she says, noticing that Louis changed into one of Harry's sweaters and shorts during the day.

Louis nods. "It was cold without you," she mumbles.

"Come move in with me. I'll work on the guest room, you work on getting out of your old place. I'll help you pack your things this weekend," Harry says, closing her eyes.

"In a hurry, then?" Louis says, and Harry hears a smile in her voice.

"Mm," Harry responds.

A few minutes later, Harry drives Louis back to her apartment building, wanting so badly to give her a goodbye kiss. Louis wouldn't have minded, but Harry doesn't even consider the possibility that she and Louis could ever have a real relationship. So she doesn't know. Harry returns to her house and immediately walks up the stairs to the guest bedroom. How could she ever make this dusty old room good enough for Louis Tomlinson to lie her head in? Honestly, Harry doesn't think there are many things in this world that are good enough for Louis. She's perfect.

Nonetheless, Harry removes the dusty sheets and duvet and and pillows, that were on the bed when she moved into the house, and replaces them with fresh ones from her cabinet. She dusts all the furniture, changes the lightbulbs, brings some of her succulents into the room, and does what she can to make it look presentable for Louis. Louis can decorate the rest of the room with her personal items and such when she starts moving in.

Within two weeks of the night Harry had proposed that Louis move in with her, the two had already completely settled into living together. Louis paid the last of her rent for the apartment and filed any and all paperwork required by the school within three days. She and Harry worked together on packing all of Louis' things, moving them and unpacking the boxes, and cleaning the apartment. It didn't take long, Louis didn't have many things. And they were both very eager to start living together. They're so married.

The tension between them went away somewhat quickly as well. Harry let her hopes die after a while, reminding herself that Louis is indecisive and has commitment issues and that she probably never wanted a relationship between the two of them. I mean, Louis has switched her major three times since they enrolled, that's why Harry and Louis have the same graduation date even though Louis is just over two years older than Harry. She's a business major now. Wants to be a C.E.O. Harry's a humanities major.

"Hey," Louis says, one morning when they're getting ready together. "I think I want an ass tattoo," she says.

Harry nearly chokes on her toothbrush. "You wha-?" she says, mouth full of toothpaste.

Louis smiles, "I dunno, it's been a while since I've gotten one. I think it would be cute," she says, rubbing some primer into her skin.

Harry raises her eyebrows and quickly finishes brushing her teeth. "What would you get it of?"

Louis blushes. "A peach."

Harry nearly faints. "Yeah, you would get a peach tattoo on your ass," she smiles. God. That would be cute.

"Why so?" Louis says, smoothing some foundation over her skin.

Harry rubs some curl cream between her palms. "You're a peach, love," she replies, tousling her hair and applying the product all over her curls so that they shine and bounce the way she likes.

Louis smiles a little. "Would you wanna go with me?" Harry has gone with Louis to get pretty much every tattoo she's ever gotten, and vice versa. A lot of their tattoos are matching, some of them unintentionally. But a good fraction of them were mutually planned and discussed beforehand.

"Yeah, I wanna go with you. Do you have an appointment yet?" Harry asks, leaning against the doorframe.

Louis shakes her head, blending her foundation under her eyes and around her nose. "Not yet. It's been a while since I've deposited anything into the ol' tattoo fund, so I dunno when I'll be able to buy it," she says. Louis doesn't have a tattoo fund. She's got one bank account and that's about all she can afford right now.

"Louis I will literally pay for your ass tattoo it is a necessity," Harry says. "Let's go this weekend."

"What? Harry calm down, this weekend? That's kinda short notice. And I can pay for it, just not like... right now. Soon. I just wrote my landlord a decent check and I haven't been paid in a while," she says.

"No," Harry says, pulling out her phone. "I'll just text Zayn and have him set you up, they love us at his shop. C'mon, babe, this one won't even be expensive, I'll buy this one for you. I'm not the one who had to buy three different sets of college textbooks because she couldn't decide what to major in," Harry teases. "Plus, I make more than you."

Louis rolls her eyes. "I got most of my money back. And shut up about your fancy paid internship. I don't care," she says, hunting for her mascara.

"You should," Harry says, "I'm buying your ass tattoo. God, you take forever to get ready. Look, I've already got you an appointment and you haven't even found your mascara yet," Harry smiles. Louis stops searching and rolls her eyes dramatically.

"What does Zayn think?" Louis asks, finally finding the small tube.

"He's all for it. Says you've got the perfect ass for that tattoo," Harry says, braiding some of her hair behind her head while she waits for Louis.

"He did not say that," Louis mumbles, focusing on her makeup.

Harry grins. She's right. "Well. Someone said that, doesn't really matter who." Harry really, really wants to lean up against Louis' back and wrap her arms around her from behind, and just look at her through the mirror. Probably bite her neck a little.

"You're terrible," Louis smiles, blinking on her mascara before putting all her makeup away. Usually she would wear winged eyeliner and some kind of lipstick, but they both overslept a little today. "Ready?"

Harry nods, and puts her phone back in her pocket, and they walk out to the driveway side by side.

That night, Harry was in bed reading over a chapter of her history book. She's got her reading glasses on, along with a pink fluffy bathrobe over her boyshorts and tee shirt. Hozier is playing and candles are burning; she's having a good night.

Then Louis knocks twice and pokes her head through Harry's door, wearing her work uniform, even though it's nearly 10:00. "Hey," she says, "when is my appointment for that tattoo?"

"Which tattoo?" Harry smiles softly, not looking up from her book.

"The ass tattoo, Harry, the tattoo I'm getting on my ass," she rolls her eyes.

"Ah. That one. Saturday night at 7:00. Does that work for you?" she asks, closing her book and tossing it to the ground.

Louis nods. "I'm gonna take a shower, you going to bed?"

"Not quite yet," Harry says. "Think I'm gonna watch a couple episodes of The X-Files first. Feel free to join me," she mumbles absently, rolling across her bed to grab her laptop.

"Will do," Louis sighs, and heads towards their bathroom. She wants to reply with an invitation for Harry to join her in the shower, but Harry would probably freak out. Louis isn't sure what Harry wants anymore; what she thinks about their relationship or where she wants it to go. According to Harry, she wanted Louis for a long time. She really wanted her. Then, Louis tried to get Harry to kiss her, and suddenly, Harry didn't seem to want anything less than she wanted a romantic relationship with Louis. It was almost as if the idea seemed good until it became a reality, until it manifested itself in front of her.

What could she be afraid of? Or worried about? By the end of a thought-filled shower, Louis has come up with a list of possible explanations for Harry's reaction that morning a couple weeks ago.

Explanation 1.) Harry was afraid Louis might just want to mess around, or experiment, or something, and she wanted a real relationship.

Explanation 2.) Harry thought that if she came home and maintained her profession of how into Louis she was, she would scare Louis away.

Explanation 3.) Maybe she just decided she wasn't into Louis anymore.

Louis wasn't so sure about the third one, and she had a few other theories, but she wants to consider her options. She steps out of the shower and dries off, putting on her Nike shorts with a sweater. By the time she makes her way back to Harry's room, the younger girl is already asleep. So much for watching The X-Files. Instead, Louis goes across the hall to her room and climbs into bed herself. She's got an essay due at the end of the week, and she's already about halfway through. Usually she would wait until the last minute to finish it, but Louis isn't tired at all, not after that self-evaluation she had in the shower. So she spends a solid hour and a half finishing off the paper before trying to sleep.

But, she can't sleep. What if Harry thinks Louis doesn't like her? What if Harry doesn't like Louis? Who could sleep at a time like this?

Louis goes to the best place she can think of; she's gotta clear her mind, or she's going to hate herself tomorrow when she falls asleep in class. She walks down to Harry's room, knocks twice, and pokes her head in. "Haz?"

Harry sits up groggily, some of her hair stuck to her face, some of it stuck to her neck, some of it sticking in random directions. "Everything okay?" she says raspily, eyes opening slowly.

Louis nods. "Can't sleep," she says.

"C'mere," Harry replies, lying down again. "Come be my big spoon."

Louis' heart speeds up and she swallows once as she pads across Harry's room. She hesitates for a second at the side of Harry's bed, until Harry looks over her tattooed shoulder and raises an eyebrow at Louis, as if to say, "You coming?" And yes, definitely, she was. So Louis quickly climbs under Harry's blankets and presses her legs to the backs of Harry's, her ribs fitting excellently into the curve of Harry's back, her head level with Harry's shoulders.

"You're really the little spoon?" Louis asks, once they've both settled into each other. Their flutters of breath have slowed and they're both almost perfectly still.

"When I get the chance," Harry murmurs, voice heavy with sleep. "I prefer it."

Louis' heart is overcome with warmth at her words. Harry is the absolute cutest person in the entire world. "Oh. But you're so... big," she replies, nuzzling the back of Harry's neck. The moonlight pouring through the window gives the room a cool, mysterious air, gives the girls smooth, milky skin.

"Hey," Harry yawns, "I'm only 5'10"."

Louis smiles. She's a lot shorter than Harry is. "I've never been big spoon. I like it," she mumbles, her eyes finally fluttering shut.

"You're a good big spoon," Harry mumbles. "Nice and warm. G'night, Lou."

"Night, Harry," Louis replies, smiling. She didn't have trouble sleeping after that.

For the rest of the week, Louis would knock twice on Harry's door and poke her head in a few hours after Harry had fallen asleep. Harry would look up, ask if everything was okay, then invite Louis into her bed after Louis would say something like "I'm cold," or "the neighbor's lights are shining into my room," or "the heater is too loud over there," then shyly climb into bed with Harry. This started on a Monday.

On Friday, when Louis did this for the fifth time, Harry finally said, "You know, you don't have to make up an excuse to sleep with me."

Louis blushed, violently. "They're not made up," she grumbles.

Harry eyes her up and down, then relaxes back to her original position. "The neighbor's lights are shining in your face again tonight, then, mm?" she asks, scooting over so Louis has room to join her.

"As a matter of a fact, they are," Louis replies, shuffling across the wood floor.

"Got it," Harry smiles, her back turned to Louis.

"What, you don't believe me?" Louis huffs, crossing her arms.

"Nope," the younger girl replies, lifting up her fleece blankets so Louis can slide in underneath them.

"Why not?" Louis demands, moving next to her friend.

Harry rolls over to face Louis, her usual cocky smile on her lips, now featuring drowsiness. "We don't have neighbors on that side of the house, that house has been empty for years. Real estate nightmare, apparently, the foundation is ruined."

Louis' face turns bright red. "Ah. Well, must've been a firefly," she mutters quietly.

"Must've been," Harry grins, and wraps her arms around Louis' waist. "Just come in tomorrow night if you need to, don't have to wake me up. It's okay. G'night, Boobear."

"G'night, Harry," Louis replies, slightly relieved that Harry didn't make fun of her or anything. Harry wouldn't embarrass her blushing friend too much, though, she's a nice girl.

In the morning, Harry is lying on Louis' chest. Harry's arms are around Louis' back.

"Happy ass tattoo day," Harry says as soon as she notices that Louis is awake. Louis smiles a little and rolls her eyes at Harry. "Will you let me look at it a lot if I say 'no homo' first?"

Louis shrugs, closing her eyes. "A little homo here and there is never a bad thing," she mumbles, her voice weird and sleepy.

Harry sits up and studies Louis' face, until she opens her eyes again. She smiles, hair messy and green eyes clear. "That's the spirit."

So they go through their usual routine, getting ready together, Harry going down and making breakfast for the two of them, sharing a tall stack of blueberry pancakes, and then Louis leaving and going to work later in the day. Harry picks Louis up to go to her appointment. They're both very excited.

Once they get there, they're greeted by a smiling Zayn Malik, a charming boy a couple years older than both of them. They've gone to Zayn for a lot of their tattoos, and most of the other employees know Harry and Louis by name. It's no surprise when a few others call out greetings to the pair as they walk in the door.

"Hey H, Lou," Zayn smiles, walking out from behind the counter to hug both of them. Harry and Louis both smile and hug him back before they follow him back to his room to discuss Louis' tattoo.

"So this one is just for Louis, you're not getting anything?" Zayn asks, looking at Harry.

"Nah, not today. Soon, probably," she says, shoving her hands into her pockets.

"Yeah?" Zayn asks, "you been thinking about anything?"

Harry nods once. "Thought those inner lip tattoos looked kinda interesting," she says, taking a seat in Zayn's little workspace. Louis' eyebrows shoot up. She and Harry had a conversation about those tattoos once. Louis said that she thought they were really hot, Harry claimed she didn't know much about them. Apparently, she's been researching.

Zayn nods. "Those are pretty badass, pain level isn't bad, but you're good with pain anyways, they fade pretty quickly, you'd have to get it retouched a lot," he says, grabbing a clipboard and a pen.

"I'd probably just do it the once," Harry states, eyeing Louis. She knows why she wants that tattoo. She's just trying to figure out if Louis knows, too.

Zayn nods again. "Let me know, when you come to a decision on that one," he says.

"Excuse me," Louis sighs impatiently, "I was informed that I was here to get my ass tattooed, now I'm very cute and very impatient so if we could get on with that..."

Zayn rolls his eyes and Harry grins. But he nods and hands Louis the clipboard, showing her the little design he drew up. The black outline of the peach is somewhat thin, yet still looks cartoon-ish, and Zayn told her that he wants to do a nice gradient of peachy colors inside the lines. A simple one, a small one. Shouldn't take long or hurt much. Louis tells Zayn she likes the sketch, she's ready to go, and so Zayn leaves to go make the stencil.

"You excited?" Harry asks as they wait for Zayn to return.

"Mm hmm," Louis replies. "Glad I wore cute underwear, too. You excited?"

"To see you get your ass tattooed? Totally," Harry laughs. "A peach. You're so fuckin' extra, Louis, first you have a great ass, then you tattoo a peach onto it to let everybody know that you're very aware of the fact that you have a great ass."

Louis blushes and shrugs a little. Harry's correct. "An inner lip tattoo? Where'd you get that idea?" Louis asks, secretly hoping that she already knew.

Harry just shrugs, a sly smile on her lips. "Divine inspiration," she mumbles, surveying Louis' body up and down.

"Divine inspiration," Louis repeats. Harry smiles, biting her lip. "I'm so sick of your cryptic hipster ass bullshit," she mumbles, watching Harry take off her black coat to reveal a dark green, black, and blue flannel shirt underneath. She stretches her long legs in front of her, clad in black skinny jeans with holes in the knees. Louis wants to feel those legs wrapped around her body, and fuck, if Harry doesn't want to do the wrapping. Their eye contact is strong and steely, and the tension in the room is suffocating. Before either of them can do anything, though, Zayn returns with her stencil.

He gives Harry a suspicious look, and she returns it with a wink. But he just shrugs, moves the privacy screen across the door, and goes to wash his hands.

Louis takes that as a sign to begin shimmying her jeans off. "I can keep my underwear on, right?" she smiles. Zayn looks over his shoulder at her to inspect her choice in cheeky panties.

"Where exactly did you want it?" he asks, reaching for a pair of gloves. Louis pokes a finger at a spot on the right side of her bum, near the center of her cheek. So the tattoo would be visible in a normal swimsuit, and most panties, for that matter. Zayn nods at her, and tells her that she can go ahead and lie down.

"Am I gonna have to hold her down for this one?" Harry asks, smiling. Louis isn't as good with pain as she is, so for some of the tattoos in more sensitive areas that Louis had gotten, Harry's had to hold her hand or let her bite her shirt or finger or something, just to keep her from twitching and moving around and stuff.

Louis glares at Harry, and Zayn says, "Probably not, I've got some of this numbing gel people seem to like a lot, if you want it," he offers.

"Nah," Louis grumbles, "I'm good. Besides, the ass isn't even that sensitive," she says stubbornly.

"Idiot," Harry breathes, moving her chair over next to Louis' chair. "Not that sensitive for most people."

Louis just shrugs, set on proving her point. So Harry rolls her eyes and gives Zayn a look, and settles into her seat, ready to ice her hand when they get home. Harry watches Louis brace herself as the stencil is applied and as Zayn switches on his machine.

"Ready?" Zayn asks.

"Just start already," Louis mutters, her eyes fixed on the floor, her fists all balled up. So Zayn shakes his head, and wheels his chair in closer. And Louis jumps a little and lets out a little yelp when the needles touch her skin, but insists that Zayn keeps going, and that she's ready now. So Zayn continues, and Louis buries her face in the chair. She lets out more cuss words than Harry could even remember existing, but she's okay, she's being really still.

"How you doing, Boo? Looks like the outline is almost done," Harry asks, looking down at Zayn's work.

"Looks great, Louis," Zayn assures her, wiping ink away from the area.

"Yeah, and so does the tattoo," Harry adds, grinning. Louis just tilts her head to the side and gives Harry another glare. Louis ends up taking Harry's hand in a firm grip as Zayn finishes up the outline. They continue holding hands through the shading, engaging in a pleasant conversation with Zayn about how they've moved in together and whatnot. Louis even manages to contribute to the conversation without adding any unnecessary curses. The tattoo doesn't take half an hour to finish up, it was a quick one, despite all the vibrant colors Zayn added to the stem and leaf, and the inside of the peach itself.

Harry is gonna lose her shit. It's so good. She looks so good. Louis' bum is red all around the area where her new tattoo sits, and the little peach is raised against her flesh. She watches, wordlessly, as Louis stands up and checks out the tattoo in the mirror, praising Zayn and giggling a lot. Harry is basically speechless.

"Haz," Louis whispers eventually, pulling her jeans back up. "You gonna be okay?"

"I'm fine, you smug little ass. C'mon, let's go pay," Harry mumbles.

Zayn smiles and moves the privacy screen, leading the pair back up to the front. When they get there, Harry hands Louis her car keys and tells her that she can go warm the car up while she pays.

"Oh, Harry's paying for your ass tattoo?" Zayn smirks. He's been convinced that the two are secretly dating since he met them.

Louis takes the keys from Harry. "She's my Sugar Daddy," she purrs, winking at Harry and sauntering out the door.

Harry looks at Zayn. "Don't tell me she's not doing this on purpose," Harry groans.

Zayn laughs. "You know a lot more about girls than I do. Specifically that one," he tells her, running his hands through his black hair.

"Yeah, but..." Harry makes a whiney sound. "I swear, she's been flirting with me for almost three weeks, this is killing me," she says.

"What happened three weeks ago?" Zayn asks, leaning over the counter. He's always one for gossip.

Harry sighs. "Honestly? I still don't know. We got kinda drunk, she started asking me a bunch of questions about how I realized I was gay, and if I thought she was gay, and all this shit. Then she told me to kiss her. And she was acting really, really not straight, and even when I reminded her that she was going to go back to her usual heterosexual self in the morning, it was different than how she usually is when she gets like that. You know? Anyways, I didn't let anything happen, and then in the morning I kinda blew up on her about how she's been leading me on for forever and how I know she's just another straight girl and all this shit, and then I left, and made her stay at my house by herself all day, then came home and we both apologized and I basically begged her to keep being my friend.

"But I swear, Zayn, it was almost as if she didn't want to be my friend. Like, not just my friend. But I don't want to be her lab rat. I want her so fucking bad, she can't just mess around with me until she figures out what she wants and then dump me, that would kill me, Z," Harry mumbles, looking at the ground. She sighs and pulls her coat back over her shoulders. "What do you think I should do?"

Zayn blinks a couple times, absorbing all of that information. He then turns and punches some things into the cash register. "Harry, do you honestly think Louis would do that to you? You two are practically married to each other already. Do you know who you're talking about, here?"

Harry does, she does know who she's talking about. Maybe she should go for it. Or maybe she should wait for Louis to make the first move. Either way, Zayn was right; there was definitely something going on between the two of them.

"You're right," Harry says, rubbing the tension from her face.

Zayn smiles. "I'm always right. Will that be cash or card, Sugar Daddy?"

Louis leans into the center console the whole drive home, careful to sit on one side of her ass. Lucky for them, it's a pretty short drive. Harry feels the need to spark up a conversation, anyways. She decides to go with a topic that she knows Louis was interested in.

"It felt right, when I kissed Maggie," Harry says after a period of silence. "Not because there was anything special about her, I actually didn't know her all that well. It was because she was a girl. It was like... a part of me was missing, and then I kissed a girl, and then it was right. And then I came out to myself, in my head, over and over again, and it felt right. That's how I realized that I'm gay. It was just... everything just... felt right. It's hard to describe. I just knew."

Louis is surprised by Harry's words, remembering her reluctance to deliver a straight answer when Louis first asked this question. "Oh," she replies, not really knowing what else to say.

"I was still the same person though, Lou. I still liked eating the crust first on all my sandwiches and Elvis Presley and organizing my books by color, not author, and I didn't like making my bed or wearing socks around the house or brushing my hair. I just also happened to like girls. A lot," Harry says.

"Yeah," Louis says. "Your hair was so gross when you were a kid," she says, laughing. "I'm so glad you take care of it now."

"Well, I still don't brush it very often, I've just learned how to get away with it now," Harry grins, and Louis makes sure to remember the way her dimples look and how prominent her jawline is when she does. Harry's got such a strong jawline.

The rest of the ride is lighthearted, and full of smiles and laughs and nostalgia. Louis complains about her ass hurting when they do get home, and the sun has just finished setting. Once inside, Louis goes upstairs to finish an English assignment, and Harry decides to have a bath and a glass of wine. She could do some homework, but... no. Besides, she bought a bath bomb that has literal rosebuds inside of it. If that doesn't sound inviting as hell, I don't know what does.

Harry sings to Elton John and Amy Winehouse and The Eagles while she bathes, the steamy water melting away lots of stress and tension from her body. It's been a pretty good day. Louis seems pretty happy with her new tattoo; it wouldn't surprise Harry if she's walking around in some thigh highs and her underwear and staring at her ass in every reflective surface she comes across. That seems like a very Louis thing to do.

Once she's been in the bath for about fifteen minutes, her curly hair knotted up on top of her head, she gets a text from Louis, and dries off her hands so she can grab her phone. Then, Harry nearly has to go buy herself a new phone because she almost dropped this one into the bath. Louis sent her a few selfies, mirror pictures of herself wearing new lacy underwear and-she guessed it-grey thigh high socks. She was also wearing one of Harry's peach-colored sweatshirts. Louis has turned and stood at an angle that shows off her new tattoo, and makes her bum look amazing, for that matter. The pictures came with a text that read, "Which one do you think I should send my mum?"

At this point Harry climbs out of the bath and dries off her long body, wrapping up in a bathrobe and exiting the room as quickly as possible. "Lou," she yells, "am I allowed to make these my background, or no?"

Louis appears out of her room, still wearing that sweatshirt and those socks, holding her phone and smiling. "Only if you say no homo first," she responds.

"Shit, deal," Harry mumbles, and begins doing just that.

"For real, though, I have to show my mum, I show her all my new tattoos as soon as I get them," Louis says.

"I know, I'm usually your photographer," Harry snorts, shoving her phone into the pocket of her robe. "I don't think the ones of you in full on lingerie are the best choice, though, maybe just do something simpler for your mother."

Louis sighs and agrees, and leaves to go take more pictures. She's really proud of this tattoo. And about an hour later, she pokes her head into Harry's door as the younger girl is settling into bed. "Thanks for buying my tattoo, I really, really like it. It's cute," Louis says, rolling the sleeves of Harry's sweatshirt twice as she speaks.

"Sure thing, Peach. Like spoiling you, you know that," Harry smiles, turning the lamp off and crossing the room to her bed. "So, you gonna come get in bed with me right now, or in a couple of hours when I've finally reached deep sleep?"

Louis smirks. "I've got some things to do before bed. I'll come disturb your sleep later," she teases, and departs from Harry's room.

Sure enough, two hours later, Louis quietly opens and closes Harry's bedroom door. But Harry rolls over and meets Louis' blue eyes before the smaller girl can come any closer. Harry hadn't fallen asleep yet. She couldn't. Not with Louis on her mind.

Louis is frozen in her place by Harry's steely green eyes. God, Harry's attractive. And intense. It takes her a few seconds to urge herself to move forward. Harry's gaze is hard and intense but her eyes themselves, Harry herself, is kind and patient. And understanding. And nice, and soft, and good and pure. Fuck, Harry is everything you could ever want. Everything Louis could ever want.

Louis pads across Harry's room and climbs into bed next to Harry, the younger girl remaining motionless. Louis scoots up to her and studies her face, their heads level. Harry looks tired. Well, it's after midnight, she probably is. But it looks deeper than that. A few hours ago she seemed okay, but now she looks... sad.

"Did I do something?" Louis whispers.

Harry shakes her head.

"Can I do anything?" the blue-eyed girl asks.

Harry smiles a little. "So considerate."

Louis shrugs. She just wants Harry to be happy. Harry makes her so happy. Louis scoots in a little closer and puts Harry's knees between her own, wrapping their calves and shins around each other.

The moonlight is casting breathtaking shadows on Louis cheeks from her eyelashes. Not to mention the sharpness of her cheekbones coming out in the dim light. Both of the girls look so soft, the moon making their hair and eyes shine and their skin smooth and milky. Harry would take a picture of how beautiful Louis is in this lighting if she thought a picture could do Louis justice. But it can't. Pictures don't really do it.

"Harry," Louis whispers, "do you want to kiss me right now?"

"Yeah," Harry replies.

"Do it," Louis says, inching her head closer to Harry. Harry reaches up and places her hand on the side of Louis' face. She strokes her cheekbone twice, and studies Louis' face for any sign of discomfort or uncertainty. "Please," Louis adds, putting one of her hands behind Harry's neck, thumb on her jaw.

Harry nods once, and leans in, and finally the gap between them is the smallest it's ever been. Louis' heart feels like it's made of good dreams and clouds and her head is just absolutely spinning. She kisses Harry back, of course, pressing their chests and ribs and stomach together. Harry's lips taste like mint and fruit and home, oh God, Louis has never felt more at home than she does right now.

Harry's heart is just sailing. She's wanted this for so long. And at first, she was afraid, because she thought maybe Louis didn't want the same thing she did, but they both felt it in that kiss. It felt like home. Louis' lips taste like toothpaste and honey and oranges, and sunshine and laughter and home. Harry holds Louis' face and kisses her slowly and sweetly while Louis grabs Harry's hips and back, pulling her closer.

Louis pulls away for a second to kiss every part of Harry's face, lingering around her favorite parts and around Harry's least favorites. Needless to say, there were several little pink marks that a still somewhat timid Louis left littered along Harry's jawline. All the while Harry runs her hands up and down Louis' curves - her back, her sides, her bum.

Once they've both relaxed back into their original positions, Harry locks eyes with Louis again. Her green eyes are no longer as intense or dangerous looking. "How'd that feel, Lou?" Harry asks, pushing hair off of Louis' forehead.

"Felt right," Louis replies, leaning forward and kissing Harry's nose. "Felt like home."

Harry's throat and stomach and heart are all tied up into one knot. "I know," is how she replies, because she does. She does know. She felt it too. "Lou, you can't leave, now, you know that right? Not now," Harry mumbles, looking away.

"Harry, why on earth would I leave?" Louis asks, lazily trailing her thumb along Harry's jaw.

She shrugs. "I dunno, Lou. I don't think you would. I just... fuck, I want you, I've wanted you so bad for so long, I don't know if you want me like that. Also you're indecisive as fuck and you've never fought for any of your relationships and I don't want that to happen to us," Harry mumbles. "Like... I'm sorry to even say that, but Jesus, baby, you can hurt me a lot more than anybody I've ever dated could have, I'd say. I'm so whipped," she laughs halfheartedly.

"Nah," Louis shrugs, "don't feel bad, Haz. That's all completely valid. But I mean, I never fought for my relationships because... I dunno, I guess I didn't see them going anywhere. Honestly, though, I've never been kissed like that before," Louis smiles, "it's never felt that way. That's how I want to feel all the time. Now that I think about it, that was just a ramped up version of what I always feel with you. You feel like home to me," she says, shyly.

Harry looks at her for a second. "You're really gay. Like, you're sounding really, really gay," she smiles.

Louis laughs and knees Harry in the leg. "For you, maybe," she smiles, leaning forward and resting her forehead against Harry's. "Wanna make out some more?"

"Always," is Harry's immediate response.

When they woke up the next morning, Louis' nose is pressed against Harry's chest, the rest of their bodies intertwined randomly. Louis was awake long before Harry was, but she just remained in her cozy spot against Harry's body and waited for her to wake up. Or at least, that was the plan. But Louis is very impatient. So she decided to sit up, and then straddles Harry's hips.

As soon as she changes positions and is sitting on Harry's lower torso, the taller girl wakes up, and is looking up at Louis with sleepy green eyes. "Mornin', Lou," Harry mumbles, voice deep and raspy with sleep. Louis grins a little, and leans down to kiss Harry's neck. She wraps her arms around Harry's body so they're practically hugging while Louis presses soft kisses all over Harry's neck and throat.

"Sleep well?" Louis asks, lying on top of Harry, now. Harry just nods, tilting her chin up so Louis has better access to her skin. She holds Louis' hips and enjoys the soft kisses Louis gives her for a while. Then Louis leans up and presses a small kiss to Harry's lips.

"How'd you sleep?" Harry smiles, rolling over so she and Louis are side by side. Harry's really cuddly when she's tired, you see, and Louis doesn't mind one bit.

"Beautifully," Louis replies, tangling her fingers in Harry's hair. "You taste like cinnamon, why do you taste like cinnamon?"

Harry yawns. "Got up, made breakfast, got back in bed and went to sleep," she mumbles, closing her eyes.

"Cinnamon rolls?" Louis asks. Harry nods, and yawns again. "You're brilliant, Haz, you really are."

"Only because I do all the cooking. I prefer it that way, though, your cooking should be considered a felony," Harry murmurs softly from under several blankets.

"Hey," Louis retorts, "it's not that bad."

"Mm," Harry mumbles, straightening up so her chin reaches above Louis' head. She kisses the top of the smaller girl's hair. "Louis, what do you want out of this?"

"You," Louis replies quickly, nuzzling her chest.

"I mean, what kind of relationship are we going for?" Harry asks, her eyes closed and her hands in Louis' short hair. "I just want you to know that I'm not going to let you turn into one of those girls that I either date for like, a month, and then dump or get dumped, or one of those girls that I fuck once and then never see again," she says softly. "You mean so much more to me than that."

Louis hums an understanding tone. "I believe you, and you know that I'm not just going to make out with you every now and then to figure out my sexuality and then leave, or whatever," she says, her face inches away from Harry's chest. "I know what I want, and it's you."

Harry smiles. "So, you wanna be my girrrrlfriiieend?" she says, tickling Louis' sides.

Louis smacks Harry's chest. "Well, I did, then you tickled me, asshole," she mumbles. Harry laughs and kisses her head again. "Seriously, though, yeah, of course. Of course I want to be your girlfriend."

"Well then," Harry says. Her heart just feels so heavy with love and happiness that she thinks she's going to cry. "If that's what you want, I suppose that's fine," she teases.

"Yeah?" Louis smiles. They're so happy.

"Yeah," Harry says, "so now I'm your girlfriend. That's how it works, sorry, no refunds. C'mon, Boo, let's go eat."

A week or two later, Louis is back in Harry's bed and Harry is getting dressed for the day. She's got her usually messy hair pinned back behind her head and has put on some natural-looking makeup.

"Where you going today, Haz?" Louis mumbles, scrolling through Twitter on her phone.

Harry pulls a blazer on over her red blouse. "The guy I'm interning for has a big fancy meeting, so I'm going with him. To take notes and get people water and coffee and stuff," she says, rummaging through her drawers.

"You look really professional," Louis muses, taking in Harry's choice in black slacks and matching blazer. They're tailored to fit her body exceptionally well. "How much did that suit cost?"

Harry smiles, and bends down to slip on her heels. "How much were all your of textbooks combined?" she asks, walking over to Louis.

Louis' eyes widen. "How the hell did you afford that?" she asks, sitting up. Jesus, Harry looks good.

Harry leans down and kisses Louis' forehead. "I didn't. I guess you could say I like to be spoiled with business suits and expensive shoes," she murmurs, looking at the faint lipstick stain that now marks Louis' forehead.

"I wish I could spoil you," Louis pouts, reaching up and tucking some of Harry's stray hairs behind her ear.

"You already do, your presence is enough for me," Harry smiles, then kisses Louis' hand. "I've gotta go, pumpkin, see you soon."

"I'll miss you," Louis smiles, and blows Harry a kiss before she leaves.

She did miss Harry. She was gone for about three hours, but Louis missed her. She made herself busy by eating leftovers from breakfast, playing FIFA and taking a nice long bath, but she missed Harry. She couldn't stop thinking about how good Harry looks in that expensive ass suit.

So when Harry comes home with slightly messier hair, but otherwise looking the same, Louis feels okay again. She's wearing another one of Harry's sweaters, and some soft shorts with knee socks. Harry looks her up and down when she walks inside and tosses her keys on the table.

"You taken care of your tattoo today?" Harry asks, stepping out of her heels. "Should be almost healed by now, yeah?"

Louis nods once, and gestures for Harry to join her on the couch. "You look so good," she mumbles, grabbing Harry's hands and leaning in against her. "Smell good, too, what perfume is that?"

"It's YSL, I don't remember the name," Harry murmurs, wrapping her arms around Louis' back.

Louis presses a kiss to Harry's neck. "You sure do like expensive things," she replies, kissing her jaw.

"Guilty as charged," Harry smiles, "especially when I don't have to pay for them." She pulls Louis into her lap and rolls her head back, letting Louis press wet kisses all over her neck and throat.

"God, I need more Harry in suits in my life," Louis mumbles, reaching up and removing the clip in Harry's hair so that her long curls fall down her front. Harry just smiles as Louis tangles her fingers in her hair and bites along her neck.

"Jesus, you're pretty worked up, yeah?" Harry breathes, trying to pull Louis even closer, though their bodies are already pressed against each other.

"Guess so," Louis replies before pressing her lips to Harry's. "Missed you today."

"Today? I was gone for like, two hours," Harry replies, grinning.

Louis shakes her head, "Three, I counted," she replies. Harry just laughs and ruffles her girlfriend's hair. "How are you today, Hazza?" Louis asks, nuzzling against Harry's neck.

"Happy," Harry replies, kissing Louis' head. "Happiest I've been in a while."

"Honestly?" Louis says, and looks up at the younger girl. "Me too. Happier than I could've predicted."

"Good," Harry mumbles, kissing Louis' face some more. She's obsessed. "That's all I want for you, you know?"

Louis sighs and buries her face in Harry's chest. "God, you're so good to me," she cries, hugging Harry's body to hers. "You're the best lesbian-best-friend-turned-roommate-turned-girlfriend I could ask for," Louis smiles, kissing Harry's chest.

"Thanks, Lou," Harry laughs, then wraps her arms around Louis and stands up. "C'mon, I need a nap, that was the most boring and mentally strenuous meeting I've ever attended." Louis smiles against Harry's neck and nods as Harry carries her up the steps to Harry's bedroom.

Louis goes and shuts the blinds, then climbs into Harry's bed and waits for her to change out of that expensive suit. God, she looks so good in that suit. Soon, though, Louis finds out that she looks even better without it. Harry pulls a soft, faded, Rolling Stones t-shirt over her head and turns around to face Louis. They both smile at each other, Louis beckoning Harry closer.

"So glad I spent all that time renovating that guest room for you," Harry mumbles sarcastically, walking over to her bed. She switches off her lamp and plugs in the string of lights hanging above her headboard. "Just so you could sleep in it twice then hijack my bed."

Louis rolls her eyes as Harry climbs up next to her. "It's not that I can't sleep in my bed, I just don't want to," she pouts, snuggling closer to Harry. "I like your bed better."

"Yeah, my mattress was more expensive," Harry smiles, pressing a soft kiss on Louis' lips.

"It's more because of the person in it, but, okay," Louis laughs, kissing Harry back. "You're okay with me stealing your bed?"

"Of course," Harry mumbles, kissing Louis' cheeks then throat. "M'okay with whatever you want, Baby Blue," she says, her eyes flicking up to Louis' when she uses that nickname. Louis hasn't heard it in a while.

"How come? M'nothing special," Louis smirks, twirling Harry's curls around her fingers.

"You're everything special," Harry counters, kissing Louis' collarbones.

Louis smiles and moves to straddle Harry's torso. "I love this," she mumbles and kisses Harry's cheeks and nose. "I love you."

Harry freezes. "Wait, what?" she says, grabbing Louis' wrists.

"I said I love this," Louis smiles, kissing Harry's jaw.

"After that," Harry mumbles, her heart rate increasing and her hands sliding slowly down Louis' body.

"I said," the smaller girl breathes, "I love you. Everything about you," she grins, kissing Harry's nose.

"Jesus, really?" Harry smiles, pressing her face to Louis'. "Seriously, Lou? In a more-than-friends way?"

Louis just nods and presses her lips onto Harry's once again. and even though their hearts were just racing, everything in the world seemed natural. Louis bites on Harry's lip. "Why? Don't you believe me?"

"Of course I believe you," Harry replies, brushing hair from Louis' forehead and staring up at her. Her blue eyes are shining like the heavens donated some of their stars to her. "Wow," Harry muses, "you're the most beautiful girl in the universe. And you love me. How neat."

"Yep," the older girl sighs, leaning down and pressing her face to Harry's chest and holding her tight. "And you're the sweetest girl in the universe, and you love me. Even neater," she mumbles, yawning and closing her eyes.

Harry smiles and kisses Louis' head. "What makes you think I love you?"

"I can tell."

And it wasn't hard to tell, Harry was absolutely head-over-heels for that adorable girl with those deep blue eyes and lips that could kiss away the pain of every heartbreak known to man. Louis was well aware of how deeply Harry cared for her. It wasn't like Harry was cryptic about it.

"Yeah," Harry murmurs, kissing Louis' forehead. "God, I'm obsessed with you. I'm so in love with you," she sighs, pressing their foreheads together. "How did I get so lucky?"

Louis shrugs. "Guess we were both just looking for a home," she mumbles before giving Harry yet another soft kiss.

Guess they found it in each other.