The Brother I Never Wanted (Larry AU)

Chapter 24

Harry never comes to bed when they get back their room. At first, it was just a little tick in the back of his mind that reminded him that maybe he wanted to stay up for a little while and watch television, but the door never opens.
After much unwanted silence and rustling in the sheets, he starts to gets worried. The way his stepbrother's head had dropped after their fight was a bit concerning. He really didn't mean to be rude. He wouldn't purposefully do that to Harry now. When they first met, yeah, he would've been snappy and sarcastic because that's what he would've expected from Harry as well. But now they're close. And he doesn't want to think that he really just lost the chance of having another real friend just because he got a little annoyed.

He's still not sure why the fuck Harry is mad. It's completely illogical. All he did was get a text from his date. A boy that he's only had one date with, and Harry's never met before in his life. What is there possibly to be angry about? He's his stepbrother, not his bloody life coach.

Another twenty minutes pass of suffocating quiet, a whine of frustration bubbling up in his throat as he buries his face in his pillow. It's his fault for his insomnia. It's his fault for most everything Louis does. And worrying is apparently one of them. At midnight, he has enough. He can't take the worry that gnaws at his stomach. He needs to settle this spat with Harry before he drives himself crazy trying to figure out what he did wrong. Wrapping himself up in his sweatshirt, he opens his door softly and goes into the hallway.

There's a faint, warm glow seeping down the hallway from the area of the living room, the light dancing against the wall. Halfway down the hall, he's hit with a puff of warmth and he can hear the crackle of a fireplace running. Otherwise, there's total silence. Louis' heart speeds up a little, mind racing when the shadows flicker. He never really liked the dark.

The sight he stumbles upon is one that makes his stomach clench. Harry's curled up on the windowsill, facing the glass. A few soft thumps sound as the drizzle outside hits the window. It's hard to see his expression in the dim light, but he can tell it's not a particularly happy expression. Pulling his long leg up to his chest, he lets out a long breath through his nose. Louis nibbles on the edge of his sleeve, frowning as he realizes he has no idea how he's actually going to approach him.

Should he just go over there and talk to him or should he stay where he is and hope Harry turns around to see him? As appealing as the second one is, he thinks he'd probably find that a little creepy. Especially after not having said anything this entire time.

"Louis, I can hear you breathing."

Oh, okay. That solves that problem.

"How'd you know it was me?" He asks quietly, staying where he is so he can watch Harry slowly turn his head to look at him. The fire casts across his face, illuminating every carved feature. He's so gorgeous. If he weren't his stepbrother, he'd definitely be smitten.

"You're the only one I know of that uses Mango shampoo." What the fuck? Is he a bloodhound? How'd he even smell that? To be fair...he did just take a shower. He didn't know it was so potent though.

"Oh."

Were the bow of his lips always that prominent or is he just being creepy again? It's not exactly a masculine mouth, bordering a feminine look. But it definitely suits him. They appear plush - the perfect mixture, he bets, for both a rough and desirable kiss if he were ever to experience a real one. Not that he's thought about that. Okay, that's a lie. He has. But he blames it on his lack of romanticism in his life, not the fact that he wants Harry to fuck him into the mattress...He did not just think that.