You Take Me Over, You're the Magic in My Veins

chapter 10

He casts a glance up and down the hall, but there is nothing near but two small torches and the back of the tapestry blocking them from the rest of the party-goers and castle occupants. Chewing on his bottom lip, Louis sneaks a look at Harry out of the corners of his eyes, then says, "Don't tell my mum," before pushing to his feet and striding over to the tapestry. He only feels a little bad when he wipes his hand on the rough cloth, moreso over his mum's reaction was she ever to find out than any actual guilt toward ruining the artwork. His great uncle had a lovely husband himself, he would understand, Louis thinks.

Louis takes a moment to lace up his trousers and straighten out his tunic, then motions toward Harry. They've been gone much too long already. He pushes the side of the tapestry open just far enough to peek out and see if the coast is clear before ushering Harry back out into the corridor. It takes a moment to adjust to the brightness of the hall, but once Louis has blinked the starbursts from his eyes, he gets a clear look at Harry and has to smother a laugh with his palm.

At Harry's questioning look, he whispers, "Harry, you look... well, like you've just gotten off in a hidden corridor. Come here."

Louis waits for Harry to crowd in close, then fusses with his hair, combing through and fluffing it to try and erase any evidence of his hands tugging and pulling and musing it up. Harry leans into it happily, lets out a rumble of complaint when Louis drops his hands and takes a step back.

Sighing, Louis reaches out and rubs his thumb along Harry's bottom lip. "Well, there's nothing we can do about this. We should get back to the ball."

Before Louis can let go of him, Harry presses a kiss to the pad of his thumb. His eyelids are heavy, eyes dark and cheeks still flushed. He looks sleepy and fucked-out and lovely, and Louis' heart swells in his chest, overwhelming him, pushing the words out onto his tongue.

"Harry, I -"

The ballroom door opens and a burst of noise cuts Louis off, effectively ruining the moment. Disappointment wells up in Louis' throat, but he lets his hand fall to his side and nods toward the ballroom at the end of the hall, where he's sure his mum is looking for him.

The music has slowed back down to a waltz by the time Louis and Harry slip back into the room, and within moments, Felicite is at his elbow hissing, "Where have you been? Mum has been waiting to make the announcement for ages."

Butterflies erupt in Louis belly and he shoots Harry a wide-eyed look. He knew this was coming, but his brain still hasn't recovered from Harry's mouth and it feels too soon. He doesn't have time to explain to a baffled looking Harry, though, before Fizzy is gripping his wrist and tugging him across the room. He only just manages to mouth the words follow me over his shoulder, hopes that Harry saw and got the message, because having Harry near will make everything that much easier.

Queen Johannah is sitting in a high-backed, gilded chair, looking beautiful in a heavy, brocade dress the color of a winter rose. Her shoulders slump with relief the moment she sees him and she rises to her feet so that she can draw him close and mutter, "There you are, I thought maybe you had skipped out on us. Oh, look at you," she fusses, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "You look as though you've been running wild up and down the halls."

Louis stands patiently and lets his mum stall, can tell that she is nearly as anxious as he is. Nerves hammer at his pulse points, leaving him light-headed. He knows what he has to do, has had it planned for days now, but knowing that what he's about to do is the right thing, for both himself and the kingdom, doesn't make it any easier or less nerve-wracking.

"Are you ready?" the Queen asks, folding and re-folding the collars of his tunic.

No, Louis wants to say, but instead he nods, voice stuck in his throat. He turns blindly toward the room when she lets go of him, vision blurred as he seeks out the only person whose face he wants to see, the only person who matters.