Ghost | L.S

twelve

A/N: buckle up

harry was blasting Life is a Rollercoaster by Ronan Keating through the speakers while working on a painting in his room. niall was coming over in one hour, and louis was away for the whole day to haunt his enemies' house.

harry found himself painting his boyfriend.

he was all he could think about ever since they first kissed. god, he was whipped. a whipped, whipped teenage boy. he giggled. life was perfect. he was literally living the life of some main character.

just when he finished his portrait, he faintly heard the doorbell ring from downstairs. harry beamed, and scurried down the staircase, assuming it was niall begging to be let in.

"niall, hi," harry greeted and led his friend inside.

it was not niall's first time in the big house at all, but his face would always light up like a christmas tree every time he stepped inside it. niall liked to call it "the palace," always making harry laugh.

the two friends lied flattened out on a sofa each, stuffing themselves with ice cream. niall didn't like criminal minds (which harry found totally offensive) so they decided to watch friends instead.

after several hours, they got tired of it, and turned it off.

"so. how's your ghost?" niall inquired. harry slapped his arm reprimandingly, and niall bursted out laughing, clutching his
stomach - both from the laughter and from having conceived way too much vanilla ice cream in one sitting.

"please, don't bother," harry said. "i was wrong. i saw a psychiatrist. it was all in my head," he lied in his face.

niall raised his eyebrows, but before the boy could say anything, anne entered the tv room with a polite smile. harry parted his lips. he hadn't even known that she was home.

"hey, mom."

"hi boys, dinner is served."

harry groaned in silence because he'd never been this full. but on the outside he smiled and said, "okay."

•••

that was the first time harry had ever seen louis blush. the pinkness tinted his grey cheeks so elegantly. harry felt proud to be the one who had made louis turn so shy.

it was quite a few days later. they were sitting cross legged on the freshly cut grass out in the mansion's beautiful garden. you could just barely make out harry's mom through the tinted glass. every once in a while she would take a glance out at harry.

it was thrilling. they'd make out when she wasn't looking. minutes later, harry had told louis how he loved him. and he had never been more sure about any emotion he had ever felt.

louis hadn't said it back. but harry was okay with it. because the love louis held in his bare gaze was undeniable. the love in the way he treated harry, how soft he was - just with him - was enough for the boy. at least for now, that is.

harry just loved when louis showered him in compliments. 'cause you could tell they were genuine, too.

"your hand is delicate. it fits perfectly in mine."