Gods & Monsters

Chapter 16 (Part 2)

Oh dear god.

Groaning, Louis lets his face fall back into the pillow. His ankles are cold where Harry'd disrupted his blankets. His cocoon has been split open. The little fucker.

Silence ambles along with the sporadic snowflakes outside of the damp, frosted window of the guest room. They're quite beautiful—they catch in the peaks of early morning sunlight. Fuck, what time is it, even? Louis' not a morning person. Not a wake-up person in general.

"It is really??" comes Anne's voice from somewhere downstairs suddenly.

God. He better make an appearance before they assault him with balloons and breakfast in bed.

Smiling to himself, Louis hauls his shivering body out of the guest bed, hoisting up his sweats as he yawns against the back of his palm before descending the creaky, carpeted stairs. Gem's door is open so she's already awake as well. How the hell do they all do it?

When Louis finally ruffles into the kitchen, he's met with the exact image he'd feared: Anne sliding on her gloves, already suited up in her winter jacket, as Harry hands her a list of somethings, his hair flying away in every direction. He's mumbling something to her in a low tone, only stopping when Anne not-so-subtly motions towards Louis.

She smiles, warm and amused. "Louis! You never told us it was your birthday," she chastises.

"Er, yeah... I just... It's not a thing for me?" he offers, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. He scratches his nose; it's not scratchy.

Harry merely purses his lips, clearly withholding his comments. It's sort of adorable—his face is scrunched up like the pup he is.

"Please," Louis continues, emphasizing his words with tingly hands. "Don't go to any trouble for it. Please. I didn't want to take away from the holiday—"

"You wouldn't be taking away from anything!" Harry insists, appalled, but Anne chuckles as she picks up her purse.

"I'm just going to run a few errands before we open presents. Gemma's in the shower, roast's in the oven—Harry, keep an eye on it." She says it with a firm finger punctuating each word and Harry nods, eyes wide and serious. "When we get back, we'll have breakfast and open presents, alright?" She smiles, kissing Harry's cheek.

"Sounds good, mum."

Louis just smiles sheepishly, feeling his skin warm uncomfortably when Anne turns to him. She looks anything but irate though, seemingly happy to do...whatever it is that Harry is having her do. Still, he feels guilty and awkward, offering his cheek a little shyly when Anne pecks it, gaze bright.

"And don't think you're getting away without a proper birthday cuddle from me," she teases, poking him playfully in the chest.

Louis half-laughs, biting his smiling cheek. "Alright," is all he can think to say, a little awkwardly and much quieter than is custom, and it makes Anne pull him in for a proper hug.

"Happy birthday," she says quietly, her chin hooked over his shoulder. She's rubbing his back in soothing circles and her hold is secure. Motherly.

Louis swallows, hugging her back.

"Love you, darling," she smiles as he pulls back, making Louis' chest twang, and pressing one last kiss to his cheek before disengaging herself completely and turning around, hauling her purse further up her shoulder. "See you in a bit. And Harry—keep an eye on the roast!"

"Yes, mum!" he calls out, but his eyes are already on Louis, warm and glittery, his sleep-mottled smile dancing on his mouth.

Then the door is clicked shut and it's just them, the roast, Gemma, and Christmas morning.