9. Nothing Else Matters Now, You're Not Here

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"Mm-hmm, absolutely." Louis nodded furiously, balancing a hot cup of tea in one hand while the other held the phone. "Yeah, I'm on my way now. Okay, thank you so much! Alright, good bye."

Louis hung up the call and fist pumped the air victoriously. He skidded across the hallway in socked feet, his energy radiating off him in waves. Harry rolled his eyes (a bad habit that Louis had no idea where he picked up from) and trotted down the stairs carrying a laundry basket filled with his, but mostly Louis', dirty laundry.

"Yes, Sandy's out!" Louis spoke animatedly, continuing to punch the air with both fists while Harry hummed disinterestedly.

Which is rude. Louis was finally earning the break he deserved, the least Harry could do was reciprocate some of his excitement.

"I finally got the call to direct the next game. Can you believe that?"

Harry shook his head, shrugging one shoulder and brushing Louis off in the corridor.

"Today is my Riverside event, I told you this."

Louis stopped in his tracks, all energy deflating out of him like a popped balloon.

"You never told me that."

"Yes, I did, you just don't listen to men who don't sleep with you. See it right there on the board." Harry pointed at the chart with the orange and yellow sticky notes. He placed the laundry basket on top of the kitchen stool and hitched his haversack higher on his shoulder. "We have it at 7:30 tonight."

"Harry, c'mon! I can't. There are no kids in the booth. C'mon, work with me here," Louis whined petulantly.

"Tommo, it's on the board," Harry berated tiredly.

"Do you have any idea how big of a game this is? The London Lions are a game out of the eighth seed and the East, if they win, they're in the play—Don't you walk out that door!" Louis yelled as a final attempt to stop Harry.

"Tommo, you're speaking Mandarin. I've been planning this event for three months."

Harry opened the door as the disappointing words hurled out of his mouth. He opened his mouth to say something else, but he stopped short, his eyes lingering on a spot on Louis' neck. Louis self-consciously rubbed his neck, feeling his cheeks warm up from Harry's heated gaze.

When Louis had woken up in the morning, he stumbled into the bathroom and frowned at himself in the mirror, specifically at blotch of purple and red marking his sensitive skin. It looked a lot like a hickey. Once Louis had questioned Harry if he had any idea how he got the mark, Harry merely shrugged. Louis hadn't remembered the night before.

"S'just a bruise," Harry had replied.

Harry's eyes flitted down to Louis' 'bruise' and back up to Louis' eyes, his bottom lip tucking underneath his teeth and popping out with saliva. For an undefinable reason, Louis wanted to run his thumb along the soft cushion of Harry's bottom lip. Harry snapped himself out of his Louis-induced trance and resumed from where he left off.

"There are plenty of mommies and daddies on the block who are totally in love with you. Call them."

On that final note, Harry shut the door, effectively shutting up Louis' protests too.

In a moment of sheer panic, Louis lost his warm socks as he paced up and down the hallway in cold, bare feet. Louis hitched Isabella higher on his hip, the phone pressed hotly to his cheek.

"Hey, Jade! It's Tommo from, yeah...hey, I was wondering if maybe you guys could watch Bella for a little bit today. I got kind of a huge break. I get to direct the London Lions game today..."

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