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Harry can feel the fever burning on his skin. He shakes as Louis lays another blanket on him, watching him at all times like a fretting mother.

It's been four days since Ricky left for work and he forgot to call when he landed and Harry didn't bother even trying to get ahold of him. He's exhausted from life and it's nice to be the one taken care of for once. It's nice to feel important and he has since Ricky left because Louis has barely left his side.

"Put your head in my lap and I can play with your hair," Louis whispers. The two have only spoken in soft murmurs and hushed tones for the past four days. It's like they're constantly telling secrets and maybe they are. Harry can never tell Ricky the words Louis tells him or tell him about how Louis' fingers are so gentle when they touch his skin because he never wants to hurt him.

Harry obediently lays his head on Louis' thighs and closes his eyes as the man runs his fingers through his knotty hair. He knows his skin is clammy and he can feel Louis rest his hand on his forehead, checking him yet again.

"Harry, you're really burning up. Can I please check your temperature?" Louis asks this question almost every hour but Harry shakes his head. He doesn't feel faint or loopy at the moment so the fever can't be too high.

"I'm fine. I just need to sleep," Harry tells him, his words so faint he's surprised Louis can hear them at all.

"We need to get you medicine. Don't you have any?" Louis asks, his tone nervous.

"No. Ricky was supposed to get some awhile back. Probably forgot," Harry replies, shrugging his shoulders slightly. He can feel Louis' apprehension as he continues to shiver and the boy starts to rub and down his arm over he blanket.

"No offence, Harry, but you look like shit," Louis tells him and Harry doesn't know why but he cracks a smile. He knows he should be offended but he just can't be with Louis.

"You're a true charmer," Harry chuckles.

"I'm serious. Maybe I should go get you something."

"No. Stay with me. Tell me a story," Harry pleads, not wanting to be alone in this house any more than he has to be.

"A story? What kind of story?" Louis asks, seeming to decide to just stay with him. Harry rolls onto his back and his eyes look up to see Louis' face. The man is watching him, his hand moving back into Harry's hair.

"I don't know. A good one," Harry tells him and Louis smiles, his mouth not opening wide but still happy. Harry likes knowing he's happy.

"Alright... Well, when I was in high school I was in love with my drama teacher. He was young and handsome and I was just smitten," Louis starts and Harry listens closely, wondering where this story could go.

"So we had this assignment where we had to write a quick romantic skit. So naturally, I wrote mine about a student and teacher," Louis continues and his face goes pink.

"Well, I didn't know we had to perform them in front of the class. So I had to get on stage with my friend Luke and perform this romance scene about my teacher right in front of him. He ended up calling my mom and that's how I got to come out to her and my whole class," Louis finishes and Harry just opens his mouth and closes it and then opens it again.

"What happened after?" Harry asks curiously and Louis just shrugs and continues to play with Harry's small curls around his face.

"Not much. Got a few boyfriends, got teased sometimes, lived my life," Louis tells him, his voice casual.

"Did you love your boyfriends?" Harry asks, not being able to drop his curiosity on the certain subject.

"Some of them," Louis answers and Harry sits up slowly, his face now level with Louis'.

Magic || larryWhere stories live. Discover now