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Summary
"Did you write anything for me?”
Harry laughs, giving Louis an affectionate squeeze. “It’s too lame for me to say that everything I write is for you.”
“Well if you play me your song, I’ll play you mine.”
“What?” Harry twists Louis around so that they can look at one another. “You wrote me a song?”
“Babe, all I’ve been doing the past two months is write songs,” Louis admits. He leans up and places a quick kiss on Harry’s mouth. “And besides, every song I write is for you.”
Or, Harry and Louis play the songs they wrote for one another.
