It's Getting Cold These Days [Larry Stylinson AU]

Eight

A/N: In honour of Mr Tomlinson's birthday, here is an early update :)

This chapter contains self-harm (towards the end). If you're triggered by that, please do not read. We can supply you with a summary in the comments instead. Be safe x

Please come over.

The text sat in Harry's inbox all morning. He wondered if Louis felt embarrassed, if he only wanted to see him to tell him that he didn't mean what he said, that they should remain friends and nothing else. The idea of Louis being attracted to him bewildered him.

What did he even have to give? His messy home, his little money? Yellow stained fingertips and the bad breath from constant smoking? He kept to himself, he wore the same ratty sweaters from his teenage years, and his hair was a mess of curls gone awry. What did Louis see in him?

Harry worked up the courage to go see him after lunch. He hadn't eaten, didn't have the energy, and his stomach growled with the need to be filled. Sometimes he enjoyed the feeling of emptiness.

A chill settled in his marrow. He fanned his hands with hot air every two seconds, shoved his hands back into pockets too shallow. His fingers peeped out of the tears in the seam. Tossing his hair back, he ignored the winter's pinch on his nose and ears, how his cheeks took on a baby pink tint instead of a full red, or how his heartbeat sped up upon sighting Louis' block of flats.

He trudged up the stairs to the flat. If he didn't want to stall he would have taken the elevator. His grimy boots scraped against the vinyl, fading out when he halted on the right floor Santa stickers had been added underneath the wreath. His dry knuckles rapped on the door.

Zayn opened. He seemed surprised to see Harry there, but stepped aside to let him in anyway. Anna stood beside him, lacing up her combat boots. Her hair was tucked under a white beanie, making her freckles prominent.

"Hi," Harry said. He could feel the heat in his cheeks.

"Hey," Zayn returned. "If you're here to see Louis he's in his room. We're heading out, so they'll be an empty house if you plan on doing anything."

Harry's lips parted in shock. "No, no, we're not going to be doing anything like that."

Zayn grinned to himself. He intertwined his fingers with Anna's and patted Harry on the back.

"See you around."

Harry was too stunned to return it.

He skimmed his fingertips along the walls as he made his way to Louis' room. Dust that had collected on the shelves stained his hands. He clapped them and grey clouds erupted in their wake.

Louis' door was ajar. Harry knocked, but paused at the doorway. Every part of him was hesitating. He couldn't bring himself to enter Louis' room.

"Zayn?" Louis called. "I thought you already left."

Harry took a deep breath. He pushed open the door, revealing himself.

"It's me," he said.

Louis was perched on his bed, blankets strewn over his lap. Photo albums littered the mattress. Harry stepped closer so his knees touched the edge of the bed.

"I thought you'd never come around," Louis said. "I thought I scared you away."

Harry only shrugged. He remained quiet as he sat down next to Louis. He kept distance between them, though he yearned to be closer. He glanced at the photo albums, skimmed over rows of images of Louis and Zayn.