Meet Me in Londontown

MMIL chapter 5

This chapter contains some sexual/language content. If this is a trigger for you of you don't like that kind of writing, please find something else! (Trying not to offend anyone <3)

     Harry flutters with his keys as Louis and the taxi driver unload Louis' bags from the trunk. He opens the door, catching Dusty right as she was about to bolt out the door.

"You really like him, don't you, Dusty?" He asks her in a cutesy voice. He pets her for a moment, then puts her in the middle of the kitchen floor. He heads back out to help Louis and to pay the taxi driver.

As the taxi drives away, Louis puts his wallet back in his pocket.

"Lou, I was going to get that!" Harry says, grabbing one of the two suitcases.

"It's alright, Harry. I'm just a white boy with little extra money, right?" He says, walking towards the door. Harry sighs, then follows him in. Harry gets in front of Louis to lead him to his bedroom. He sets the bags down under his window.

"I'm gonna go call my mum, tell her what happened. I 'll be just downstairs if you need me. I'll come right back up when I'm done, alright?"

"Harry, what's she going to say? What if she doesn't want me here? What if your sister doesn't like me?" Louis worries.

"Babe, they'll love you. My mum is alright with things like this. I've told her about you a lot, to be honest. I told her you never liked going home. She said you could stay here a while ago, so I'll just let her know that you're here. It'll be alright, Lou. I promise." Harry reassures Louis, then heads downstairs to call Anne.

Louis looks around Harry's room while he's alone. The front door is covered in articles from magazines and news papers about The Beatles, Rolling Stones, Jimmy Hendrix, Pink Floyd, and Bob Dylan. His walls are a cloudy, peaceful grey with only a few paintings hung. 

His side table is piled over with books about all different religions and theories, topped with a candle that smells like soy milk and sage. It's halfway melted, almost dripping onto the books. Under his mahogany, antique end table were a couple chords hiding behind a sculpture of two dancers carved out of wood.

His bed had no headboard, just a few hanging lightbulbs strung above it. There is a small window on the other side of his bed with airy blue curtains. His bed spread is a black duvet cover spotted with patches of coffee stains on them. Louis keeps turning in a circle, admiring the personality of the room. The closet doors don't quite shut all the way. There are scarves and jackets poking out through the crack of the door.

Harry's dresser matches his end table by the bed. There are four drawers, all painted on. Each drawer is painted a different city. They look as though they are London, New York, Los Angeles, and Seattle. On top of the dresser, there are more candles. One smells like grass, another clean linen, and a third sandalwood. Those are also melted, a little less than the one made of soy milk and sage. There's a carpet under the dresser. It has a red border around it, and on the inside a coffee creamer color with the same red creating vine designs.

After Louis makes a full circle, Harry comes back into the room.

"Welcome home, Love. Do you like it in here?" Harry says, smiling at Louis.

"You mean I can stay?" He asks, running into Harry's arms. He chuckles, hugging Louis tight to his chest.

"Yeah, you can stay, Love."

Louis stays a moment in Harry's arms.

"You alright, Love? You seem upset still. Do you want to talk to me?" Harry asks, trying to comfort Louis.