Breakfast
Harry nodded, his eyes stayed locked onto Louis. He knew he was one of those people that could read thoughts pretty accurately. He could see the worry in Louis’ face, he saw it etched into his sleep deprived face. As the front man, Lou was bombarded with the most pressure. It only made sense that he was scared. But that tiny glint, that way that he held onto Harry a bit too tightly, Harry knew Louis was scared of losing him. “My bed,” he agreed with a knob, pulling the door opening for Louis. He lead the way to the bed, tucking the boy under the quilts. He climbed in, cuddling up to Lou. He rested on his side, looking at Louis, brushing his check, leaning into kiss him. “I love you…I’m not leaving, ok?”
Louis didn’t even resist as Harry guided him into bed. Usually he’d put up a fight, just to be difficult, but he wasn’t up for it. He was too tired, and honestly too happy to be stubborn. Harry didn’t hate him. Harry was there, tucking him into bed and kissing him and being the perfect, understanding guy he was. There was still a lot he was unsure of, but he knew that him and Harry were going to work. Because true love conquers all, doesn’t it? Louis liked to believe it did, and if that was the case, then him and Harry could do anything. He rolled over on his side to face Harry, giving him a lazy, tired smile. “You better not,” he said. “But you promise you won’t? Ever?”
