keep me » larry a.u.

twenty-five

Harry doesn't know how he didn't notice how disgusting Louis' room is before.

He's on his hands and knees, trying to pull out everything from under Louis' bed and organise it. Being nine months pregnant and trying to get it done isn't ideal, but. He can't just lay in bed knowing this mess is underneath him. Jay told him he's nesting. Louis told him he's crazy (but, still cute).

He pulls out a pair of boxers, wrinkling his nose and tossing it in the hamper across the room. The next thing he pulls out is an envelope, and he furrows his eyebrows. It says "Hazza" on it in Louis' messy handwriting, so. He assumes it's okay for him to open it. It's probably a Valentines Day card he forgot to give to him or something.

Upon opening the envelope, he sees it's not a card. It's a piece of paper. He furrows his eyebrows, unfolding it. It's a whole letter in Louis' ten-year-old-esque (but endearing) handwriting.

Dear Haz,

If you're reading this, it's probably because either we're finally getting married and moving out of my Mum's house and you found this while packing, or I'm dead. I'm hoping it's the first one, but I'm writing this in case of the second one.

Right now, currently, you're sleeping next to me looking really fucking cute. I think you're, like, five months pregnant? I don't know, but you look beautiful like this. Do I sound stupid? Probably. But I don't care. My Mum has always talked about how people glow and shit when they have babies, and I never understood it, but now I do. I'm falling more and more in love with you everyday.

And I know I tease you a lot, but I don't think I tell you how much you mean to me as often as I should. I love you, and I love that my family loves you, and that you care about me, and I love that you love me back. You're so fucking cool. Okay, that last line wasn't as romantic, but it's true. I told you I wanted to dye my hair blue, and you were in straight away. You're so fucking cool, baby.

And, hey, I know this shit with your mum is tearing you apart, even though you won't admit it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry she's like this, and I'm sorry she's missing out on such an incredible kid. More for me, I guess ;)

I know it's scary thinking about the future. I hope I'm around for it. I already have my proposal planned out, so. I need to live at LEAST five more years to get that done. Baby's in on it too. I've been plotting with her while you're asleep. Don't try and pry her for details.

But, I love the idea of a future with you. I can't wait. I've loved you for almost two years, and I love you so fucking much right now, and I know I'm going to for the rest of my life, no matter how short it might be, even as young as we are.

Thank you for sticking with me. Thank you for putting up with my weird, sarcastic and kind of morbid sense of humour. Thank you for having my baby. I like saying that. You're having my baby. It's like that Paul Anka song. You're having my baby, what a lovely way of saying how much you love me. Okay, that was cheesy, I'm sorry.

I know you're not super religious, and I've never been either, but I really do thank God and the universe and whatever everyday that I walked into class late that day we met. I think I was gone for you the day we met, and I'm not bullshitting you. Ask Liam and Niall, all I ever did was talk about you from that day on.

You're seriously the most beautiful person ever, and I love you, and I can't wait to meet our baby. I cant wait to see you become a dad. I cant wait to see all the stupid, frilly, girly outfits Lottie will dress her in. I hope I have the chance to teach her to, like, talk and walk. And skateboard! That'll be so cool. And play footie, she's gonna be so good.