Louis' house

2. breakfast

The noise of glass shattering on the floor, accompanied by a few curse words muttered under breath pull Harry from his dreams and he slowly opens his eyes.

The bedroom blinds are still closed and Harry turns around, finding the space next to him on the mattress empty. The covers are hunched up and Harry slowly sits up, running a hand through his hair and over his eyes as he gets more and more into awake-mode. It's cold, in the bedroom. The window is closed, but since its fucking freezing outside, the room still got cold inside. Harry only reluctantly peels himself out of the covers, but the clattering noises downstairs keep going, so he has to save what's left of their kitchen stuff.

As he slowly pads down the staircase, the smell of something brunt coming from the kitchen, he wraps his blanket tighter around himself, the hem dragging down the stairs behind him, but Harry cleaned the floor yesterday, so it's fine. Harry smiles slowly, shaking his head more to himself as he hears the significant sound of mugs being placed on the mirror smooth surfaces. As he rounds the corner and leans against the wall, he looks at him, how he moves around in the kitchen, small swear words leaving his mouth because the entire scene is completely out of control.

"Morning" Harry says, amusement clear in his voice.

Francis whips around, his hand stilling where he lifted the kettle to pour steaming water into the mugs. He sighs, shoulders slumping defeat, because Harry now saw this mess. He sets the kettle back down and walks towards him, planting a quick kiss onto his lips, arms winding around Harry's middle.

"Morning sweetheart" He mumbles, hands slowly stroking the small of Harry's back. "I'm sorry" He kisses him again, always talking in-between little pecks on his lips. "I wanted to make you breakfast"

Harry chuckles and moves away, walking towards the burnt toast on two plates, peanut butter jelly on them. "Thanks babe" He mumbles, takes one of the plates and a mug before he sits down at the kitchen island, watching his fiancé move around the kitchen once more. He doesn't think he can eat that, but he'll try and see if he dies after the first bite.

"I'm sorry for last night" Francis says when he joins him with his own breakfast. "Spontaneous business meeting. I promise it won't happen again"

Harry only smiles and shakes his head, signalising him it's fine. He was disappointed, and it did in fact happen before, but it's not like that was Francis' fault. His boss thinks he's always available, apparently didn't get the whole aspect of private life yet, and Francis is too proud to ever deny him anything. Harry has met his boss in person twice, and he's an intimidating man. Francis won his trust almost immediately, and he's doing everything that needs to be done to stay on top of the firm hierarchy. Harry is proud of him, of course, just sometimes it comes in the wrong moments, for example when he had a whole dinner cooked and gets rejected the last second.

"Don't worry" He mumbles, taking a sip from his mediocre tea because he needs a few more seconds to build up the courage to bite into the toast.

"Thank you for being so understanding" Francis smiles and Harry only shrugs.

He doesn't have much of a choice, is the thing. It's not like Francis asked him if he wants him home or if he could go to the meeting, he only said he wouldn't make it. There was absolutely no room for Harry to disagree, so he's not really "being understanding". He would have been mad, even, because it would have been a waste of food, if Louis hadn't come over.

Speaking of Louis, the traces of him are still around the kitchen, so Harry knows it wasn't just a dream, or something he hallucinated because of utter loneliness. No, Louis Tomlinson actually stood in front of his door last night.

"Did you have someone over?" Francis asks, speaking of the devil, and glances at the sink, plates and cutlery for two in it, along with two empty beer bottles.