Frame of Hearts - l.s.

Chapter Twelve

He wakes from his slumber with something cold pressed to his face, and the usual sound of giggling near his ear.

He has an eye open, adjusting to the light, and a yawn coming through. There's still a small giggling child beside him and Louis thinks that maybe he's come back to the few years ago where Harry would always laugh in his ear after trying to wake Louis up. All those failed attempts seemed like hours of wasted good times.

"You were snoring," Harry tells him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Was gonna go downstairs and grab a cork or something to shut you up."

"That's not nice."

"Not my fault puberty is finally getting to you, late bloomer."

"Just because you got hairy balls before me doesn't mean anything," Harry giggles hard against Louis' cheek, placing his arm around Louis' waist and bringing him in close. Louis almost forgot they kissed last night; he shouldn't have. It's like a milestone in his life. "By the way, good morning."

"G'morning to you too. Where's my breakfast?"

"You absolute pig!"

"I have been awake for almost two hours trying to wake you up. I want something to eat, you selfish snorer!" Harry teases. "I swear to god, you sleep like a log."

"S'not my fault for wanting some beauty sleep."

"It's twelve in the afternoon."

"I'm surprised, by all means, that you have resisted kissing me this entire time we've been talking."

"I have morning breath, and so do you."

"Does that really stop anyone?" Louis shifts to lay on his side, touching noses with Harry before giving him a small peck on the tip. Harry scrunches his nose and giggles to himself. "Every time."

"I'm still not used to it. It feels funny when you kiss me there."

He leans further in to brush their lips together before locking them into one another. Louis smiles softly against him, hand moving to cup behind his ear. Louis pulls away and grins.

"I'm still not used to that."

Harry puts their foreheads together and kisses him gently. He's not attempting to move his lips just yet. He doesn't want to embarrass his horrible kissing skills already. Louis didn't find himthat bad honestly ; not like he could compare to anyone else.

"You're an innocent little shit to kiss, Harold. It's like watching a scary movie with the fright scenes; you don't know when it's going to happen."

"Sorry."

Louis peeks through one eye. Harry's blushing. "I-I didn't mean to insult you. You're all right, H."

"Really?"

"Don't think I'm bullshitting you. You're sweet like this. I like it like this," Louis says. "You know, I'm a little nervous m'self. I-I don't know what I'm doing either."

Louis brings him in with a finger hooked under Harry's chin, pressing their lips onto each other and letting their mouths linger. He loves the feel of Harry's lips. He's mesmerized for so long about them. They're always so perfect and lovely. Louis feels so lucky to know that he's the first person to feel these for himself.

Harry's whining a little from his throat, and Louis drags himself away. Harry apologizes for his inability to breathe properly. Louis doesn't give two shits and kicks Harry in the shin, under the sheets, for being a bashful dork.

"Do you want some lunch? We can make some sandwiches and then we can go to the markets for a bit afterwards?" Louis suggests. Harry nods slowly and smiles to Louis. Both hop out of bed and change into something casual. Louis finds himself wearing one of Harry's Jack Wills hoodies over his t-shirt and jeans. Harry doesn't mind; they've been sharing clothes since they were seven and eight.