"Things change, sure, but don't expect me to just turn into a whole new person for you. One thing I can't change is the past."
~~~
Louis's plan was to shopping. He needed new clothes, and the lad was becoming comfortable with the cross-dressing.
He stepped into the living room, walking over to Harry, who was watching American Horror Story. He'd arrived that morning to talk to Louis about scheduling auditions for the club and was now going to go shopping with Louis.
The small lad stood in front of Harry, crossing his hands behind his back.
"I'm ready to go."
Harry's eyes traveled up to Louis's before examining Louis's outfit: a maroon, lace flower print sweater, white jeans that hugged his thighs, and black flats. His cheeks were dusted with blush, but that's all the makeup he wore, for Louis knew he was pretty enough without makeup, even if he wore it on stage.
"You look... Beautiful," Harry spoke, reaching out to grab Louis's hands and pull the bloke between his legs.
"Thank you," Louis whispered. He let out a gasp as Harry stood up with their bodies pressed tightly together. Harry freed one of his hands, using it to cup Louis's cheek, moving down to the tan skin of his neck, down his clothed arm, lacing their hands back together.
Harry opened his mouth and Louis was praying to any existing god that Harry would say those three words, the three he wants to say himself, because it feels so right to him.
To Louis's disappointment, Harry's pretty mouth only let out a shaky sigh before closing, along with his eyes, and he leaned down to press his forehead to Louis's.
They stood like that before Harry spoke. "I want to tell you about myself."
Louis knew about Harry- how he preferred coffee to tea, how he was rough and demanding in bed with a touch as light as a feather, how he preferred music to movies, how he didn't have a religion or a family, how he liked to eat healthy- Louis knew little things.
He also knew that Harry meant tell him- talk to him about his personal life. His problems and what happened with his family.
Louis nodded, letting Harry sit down and pull Louis to straddle his lap, but it wasn't inappropriate. It was comforting.
"I suppose it all started when my dad died," Harry whispered, closing his eyes. "I was always a spoiled child and one day I was begging my dad to take me for icecream, even though it was storming. I was always brave; I didn't mind the rain or anything. He buckled me in at six years old, driving us to the parlor... We didn't make it there."
Harry's voice faltered. Louis didn't want Harry to stop, though, he wanted to know Harry.
"I lived, obviously," Harry mumbled, opening his eyes to look at the ceiling.
Louis wanted Harry to look at him. He wanted to see Harry's green eyes.
"Mum and my sister... Well, they were so sweet and kind- of course they didn't blame me. A man moved in down the street two years later. I was a little broken, but I was healing, and it helped when my mother started dating this man, Robin. I liked Robin."
Harry finally locked eyes with Louis and the older boy felt he'd melt into a puddle with how deep Harry's mossy, emotion-filled eyes were.
"When I turned fourteen, I came out as gay. No one minded. In fact, they were happy that I was so confident in myself. My older sister, Gemma, was proud. I loved her so much."
