The Degradation (translation)

Chapter 17

I trusted her. I fucking trusted her. How could she do that? She had no right. It just wasn't there.

***

Louis' pov

Mom? Mom, what do you mean, Mom? His real mom? Wow. He hugs her tightly, and she smiles broadly and looks over her shoulder at me. And I'm clutching the blanket, not because I'm naked under it, but... Like, yes, I'm naked under it. So I just bat my eyes and try to look innocent. This is not how I imagined our first meeting. Harry loves her so much that I would like to meet her properly. In a suit, with flowers. But naked in the crib is also not bad. In a family way.

"I'm Julia, Harry's mother."

She says it like I haven't figured it out yet. Hey, I'm not an idiot. Although, judging by my appearance, I should look very much like him. She holds out her hand, and as I shake it, I try not to think about what I recently did to her son.

"I'm..."

Naked. Surprised. Sleepy. Choose what you like best. Harry comes to the rescue. He pulls away from his mother and looks at me. Oh, my God... I've never seen him smile like that before.

"Mom, this is Louis, my friend..."

"I know," she smiles, and I somehow relax. "You talk about him more often than you breathe."

He laughs, blushing. He's also very beautiful in the morning. Especially in the morning, when his mother suddenly appears out of nowhere.

"Get dressed, I'll take you to lunch. Louis, it's really nice to finally meet you."

Before I can answer, she leaves the room. I turn to Harry, looking a little (very) confused. His dimples had never been so deep.

"This is my mom," he says, so full of joy and excitement that he can't sit still. He leans forward and gives me a quick peck on the lips five or ten times before getting out of bed. "This is my mother. And she came back."

He jumps to his feet, and damn, he looks like a kid on Christmas Eve.

"The bathroom's still in the same place —" I point to the door, laughing.

He runs in there and then runs out.

"I forgot my clothes."

I laugh even harder when he stumbles over the threshold and wait for him to come out so I can shower myself. Something interesting is planned.

***

His mom is driving, Harry is sitting next to her, I'm in the backseat, and they talk all the time. I mean, Harry talks. Yes, exactly. Harry the chatterbox, can you imagine?

So, when will it snow in California?

He asks her a hundred questions and doesn't even give her time to answer. She starts laughing.

"Calm down, or you'll have an asthma attack."

I frown.

"Do you have asthma?"

"I had when I was little."

"And now, when he forgets to breathe properly."

I'm about to say something, but Harry turns and looks at me.

"Don't worry, it's very rare, and I always have my inhaler with me."

I smile back, lean back in my seat, and stare out the window as he continues to chatter. I love learning new things about him. But I don't like it when these things turn out to be diseases. Well, traditions don't change.