Where I Am Without You [L.S]

Chapter Fourteen

The rain is still coming down hard when Harry pulls up to Louis' house later that evening. He'd spent half an hour in the shower after arriving home in the middle of the afternoon, trying to get warm again. He'd had to sit and wait for another hour and a half following their impromptu dance number.

He's dressed in normal, black jeans and a large jumper which manages to trap the newly gathered body heat since his shower. He dashes from the driveway up to the front porch, forgoing grabbing his umbrella for the short distance.

The moment he presses the buzzer to the house, the distinct sound of barking comes from inside the house and he smiles quietly to himself as he realizes he gets to spend his evening with the two dogs.

The door is pulled open before him not much later, and before him once more is Louis. He's changed out of his wet clothes and into comfortable sweats and a pull over jumper, his hair still damp from a shower. And Harry can't believe this had once been his life, coming home to find a relaxed, content Louis at their home. Had travelled the world with this man, had loved him and dedicated hours and hours solely to learning every inch of him. Even after four years he could still feel the ghost sensation of what it was like to touch him, to be with him and know that they were so comfortable in themselves when they were around each other.

It hurts. It definitely fucking hurts.

He pushes the thought from his mind as Louis mumbles a Hey and steps aside to let Harry in.

            "So who of the others have heard it yet?" Harry says as way of greeting as he trails after Louis into the open living room and kitchen space.

"Zayn's the only one who's heard the whole thing, the other two have heard a couple songs." Louis answers as he automatically moves around the kitchen bench to turn the kettle on.

It's much easier this time around, Harry notes as he pulls out one of the chairs, the same he'd sat in the last time he was here, and takes a seat. Louis doesn't ask him if he wants a drink, automatically pulling two mugs down from a cupboard and it's something that had once been so achingly familiar that it seems even four years apart can't drive between them in this case.

            "How many tracks are there?"

"12. So it'll take some time."

            "You know," Harry starts as the realization hits him, "You could still just send them to me. So, you know, you don't have to sit with me while I listen through it."

"Don't be silly Haz, we've missed enough of each others lives that I want to do this with you here." Louis says, his eyes briefly meeting Harry's. But Harry wants to scream at him in that moment, You left me! But he knows that'll only hurt both of them. Perhaps that conversation will come later, when they're both feeling fully at ease around each other. But certainly not right now.

            "Do I need tissues or am I not going to cry?" Harry tries at humour instead, because it's much easier than giving in to his true emotions.

"Honestly, no idea." Louis says and that just wasn't the answer Harry had wanted. If anything it left him feeling more unsure than he had been about ever hearing the album. He'd written almost the entirety of Fine Line with Louis in mind, and it hadn't occurred to him as he'd thought Louis was happy with Eleanor and had moved on from him, that perhaps Louis had moments in his songs about their relationship. Had needed to express something about the years they'd spent together.

It was brave. Harry thought as he gratefully accepted the warm cup of tea, for Louis to sit in the room with him while he played him his album. He knew Louis had listened to Fine Line now, and even with him having to perform those songs on stage, in front of Louis and thousands of others, he knew he couldn't have done what Louis is doing now. Too listen through his album with Louis in the room for his first time.