Walk That Mile

Chapter 2: Day 1, 2, 3

DAY ONE

Chicago, Illinois

Louis wakes up late on the day the road trip is supposed to start. He has a mild hangover and sticky skin as he rolls off of Niall's couch and onto the floor. They'd gone hard the night before, he and Niall, a bit too hard maybe, in preparation for nine months without each other. Technically, they'll both be home for the holidays and Louis's birthday in December but the shots went down easier when they said nine months instead.

His head is pounding as he pulls himself off the floor to actually stand, tripping over his own shoes on the way to the toilet. He checks his phone once he's washed his hands and stares blankly at the time. Niall said Harry would be over around nine to pick him up; considering that is two minutes away from the current moment, Louis thinks he might be in a bit of a situation.

He opts out of showering to collect his things and wrangle his phone charger in a bag all while gnomes with tiny hammers tap on the inside of his skull. He hears a car pull up out front of the apartment complex at exactly nine but he ignores it in favor of shoving his shoes in his bag. There's no way Harry is actually going to show up on time.

The doorbell going off both proves him wrong and makes him groan as the tiny men with hammers pick up their pace against his skull.

"That's probably Harry," Niall says from somewhere down the hallway, his voice getting louder as he comes into the front room. "He's serious about his schedules."

"You could have told me that," Louis says as he zips his bag, a bit breathless from the exertion. "I would have at least attempted to make a good impression."

Niall glances at him over his shoulder as he goes for the front door, "Whoops, sorry," he says half-heartedly.

Louis checks his reflection in the television screen as Niall answers the door, his voice far too loud for the hour. The voice that meets Niall's is low and methodical, something out of an audio book recording. Louis runs his hands through his hair, sniffs his shirt, and goes to meet Harry Styles.

"Here he is," Niall says as Louis comes up behind him. Niall moves to the side as Harry steps inside the doorway.

Harry is taller than Louis expects, his shoulders broad and waist thin, and his hair definitely shorter than the collar picture from two weeks ago. Louis thought he'd forgotten about that photo but clearly his subconscious was just waiting for the right moment to bring it up.

"Louis Tomlinson," he says in his best impersonation of a functioning adult. He holds his hand out to Harry and definitely doesn't stare too long when Harry takes his hand in his own, the muscles in his forearm flexing.

"Harry," he says. "It's nice to meet you."

"You as well," Louis says in an autopilot response. He takes in Harry's converse and tight black jeans, his white tee shirt and hair pushed back from his face, his ridiculous jawline. Louis's eyes drop back to his shirt and he reads the simple black font: women are smarter. He smiles, "Cool shirt."

Harry's eyes drop down as if he's forgotten the text on his shirt and then he almost blushes, if Louis had to call it, when he looks back up. "Thanks."

"I'm almost ready," Louis says, averting his eyes from Harry's cheeks. "Let me just grab the last few things."

Harry's nod is tight and Louis thinks he may be restraining himself from checking the watch on his wrist.

"Right back," he promises, turning quickly and heading back the way he came, leaving Niall to chat with Harry.

Harry doesn't seem too horrible based on the first impression, Louis thinks. He pulls on a new pair of pants and throws the others in a bag. Hopefully they'll stay somewhere with a laundry machine over the next couple of weeks. Otherwise, they won't be washed until he's back on campus and that may not be a pretty sight.