Larry, Actually.

Twenty: December 20th

"I feel it in my fingers,

I feel it in my toes,

Christmas is all around me,

and so the feeling grows

It's written in the wind,

It's everywhere I go,

So if you really love Christmas,

C'mon and let it snow?

You know I love Christmas

I always will

My mind's made up

The way that I feel

There's no beginning

There'll be no end

Cuz on Christmas,

You can depend

You gave your presents to me

And I gave mine to you

I need Santa beside me

In everything I do

You know I love Christmas

I always will

My mind's made up

The way that I feel

There's no beginning

There'll be no end

Cuz on Christmas,

You can depend

Cuz on Christmas,

You can depend

It's written on the wind

It's everywhere I go

So if you really love me

C'mon and let it snow?

C'mon and let it snow?

So if you really love

C'mon and let it

If you really love me

C'mon and let it

Now if you really love me

C'mon and let it snow?"

"Louis?"

He jumps, screaming. "What the fuck, Louise?! Must you always sneak up on me?"

"I've been here since your second rendition of the song. You're just unobservant." She sniffs. "Did you really have to sing it seven times? Harry singing All I Want For Christmas Is You and Last Christmas constantly is bad enough. I really don't wanna listen to you as well."

"How did you get in my house?!" He asks.

"You keep your spare key under that ugly gnome because you can't reach the top of the door frame. Rather easy to find." She shrugs, making herself comfortable on his couch.

"Right... And why are you here?" Louis asks. 

"Because you're confessing tonight." Louise says firmly.

"What? No I am fucking not." Louis argues.

"Yes you fucking are." She says, mocking his tone. "I'm sick of watching Harry act like he doesn't think of you of more than a friend. And he called me Louis again as I left the house... And last night when he was ea-"

Louis cuts her off. "End that sentence there."

"Anyway. Sick of it. Confess or I'm going to kidnap you and force you to." Louise says, rolling her eyes.

"Aren't you just a ray of fucking sunshine?" Louis deadpans. 

"Just tell my husband you're in love with him and want to fuck him, yeah?" Louise says.

"Most girls would be beating me up, not telling  me to tell him."

"Well, I'm not like other girls." Louise deadpans, and he snorts. "Now, spill the tea to everyonee favourite curly haired little twat or I will spill tea on your tiny dick."

"My dick is not tiny."

"Sure, you keep telling yourself that, hun. Two inches is average, yeah?" Louise sing-songs, and Louis throws a cushion at her as she cackles.

"You're such a bitch." He says, and she shrugs.

"At least I got the guy." She says.

"That was a fucking violation you bitch." Louis whines. "You're done. You're done."

"That's not very feminist of you."

"That doesn't even make sense!" Louis yells frustratedly.

"Whatever. I'm going home." Louise says, picking up her bag from the ground. "Tell him tonight, m'kay?"

"Yeah." Louis sighs, and she ruffles his hair then leaves, the spare house key placed on the table in the hall.