if i could fly // larry stylinson oneshots

work days

harry's pov

i get into my car to go home after a long day of shooting a music video for my song, watermelon sugar. i'm ready to go home so i can see my gorgeous husband, louis. i start the car and start playing the city by the 1975. i softly hum to myself, pressing the gas, eager to see my husband as it's been a terribly long day in the malibu sun. 

after a ridiculous amount of time, due to california traffic, i am finally able to get home to my boo bear. i park my range rover in our driveway, grabbed all of my neccessities form the car and walked inside.

"honey, i'm home!"

i heard a small moan of protest come from the couch. i walk over to our sofa and see louis cuddled into a pile of blankets, watching the telly. i giggled at him and bent over the back of the couch to kiss the tip of his nose. he smiled up at me and made grabby hands at me. i sighed, walking around the cpuch and sat down. louis crawled over to me and began staddling my lap. i wrapped my arms around his small waist and he put his arms around my neck and nuzzled his face in my neck. 

"miss me, boo?" "so much. i cleaned though, but i got tired, so i slept on the couch." "i noticed that, actually. you did good for someone who made me their servant since we were teenagers." he rolled his eyes and i just laughed slightly, kissing his forehead. 

"can we go cuddle," louis asked after a few minutes of silence. i nodded, picking him up and taking him upstairs to our bedroom. i threw him on the bed and he giggled. i walked over to my dresser and grabbed some sweat pants, then i walked into the bathroom. i stripped of my jeans and button up and put on my sweatpants, then i grabbed a scrunchie from under the sink and put my hair in a palm tree like ponytail. 

after i was done in the bathroom, i walked to the bed and saw louis wearing my hoodie, fast asleep. i silently cooed to myself, taking a picture of him. i laid down beside him and he immediately turned to me and snuggled into me. i smiled, kissing his forehead and drifting off to sleep.