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Summary
“It’s a curse,” Harry said, nodding. “To have everyone loving you. Must be awful.”
No. It was awful to sit here with shadows dancing over the soft edge of Harry’s cheeks, casting intimate patterns in the hollows under his eyes. To not be able to say that he was beautiful and that Louis wanted to lie down holding his hand until they counted all the stars in the sky.
He smiled anyway. “Yeah. It is. It’s tragic.”
Or a sixth form AU, in which Louis has dreams of past lives he doesn’t remember and the new kid at school feels too much like home.