Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at https://archiveofourown.org/works/12692082.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M, F/M
Fandom: One Direction (Band)
Relationship: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Liam Payne/Louis Tomlinson, Harry
Styles/Original Female Character(s)
Character: Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson, Liam Payne, Lots of OCs, a cute kid, a
badass muslim girl, people i command you to love
Additional Tags: Angst, Lots of it, Exes to Lovers, Hate to Love, Fake/Pretend
Relationship, Famous Harry, Mildly Famous Louis, light industry talk,
Explicit Sexual Content, Homophobia, Islamophobia, Angst with a
Happy Ending, so after a little while ive decided to add some tags,
Alcoholism, depression and anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Rough
Sex, bottom!Louis, Kid Fic, something that could be considered as
cheating, i mean i dont but some might, JUST, h&l dont cheat on
each other, im sorry im going to take time uploading but i promise i
will, Betrayal, Pining, i cant believe i forgot to add that, Bisexual
Harry, lgbt louis, Like, harry being bisexual is something that they're
going to discuss in this that's why i know, oh yeah about the sex tags,
theres roug sex for sure, not too rough, They talk about it though, and
theres kind of flashbacks i guess, Kink Negotiation, degradation talk,
Spanking, Choking, and then all the normal stuff like, Anal Sex, Anal
Fingering, Rimming, Blowjobs, handjobs, of and some comeplay as
well, ENJOY GUYS I LOVE YOU, i feel like i have to add some stuff
now that its over, Crying, a lot of crying, harry cries so much i hate
him, intentional plot holes, since its an internal pov there are things
he wont think about, i hope u like it, TELL ME IN THE COMMENTS
Stats: Published: 2017-11-11 Completed: 2018-09-19 Chapters: 3/3 Words:
30516

Sounds Like Heaven

by howtogetawaywithlouis

Summary

Louis is screaming, and he should consider toning it down cause Sandy is sleeping on the
same floor, but tears are starting to gather around his lashes and his voice is slightly
quivering, and he doesn’t care about waking her up as much as he should.

All he can think about is how he’s been such a fool that a woman is going to steal his girl
and his man, and he’s completely helpless cause none of them both were entirely his in the
first place.
 “Louis,” Harry whispers quietly, his hand coming to rest hesitantly on Louis’s shoulders.
“You know it’s not going to happen.”

Louis shakes him off and takes a few steps away. “No, I don’t.”

He grips the bottle of champagne and goes to pick up the glass from the sink. His throat is
tight and it hurts to swallow, so when he speaks again, to a Harry who looks sad and
frustrated, it’s with a simple murmur.

“I’m going to bed. You can show yourself out.”

---

Or, a very painful au where singer/actor Harry Styles and songwriter Louis Tomlinson are
married and have a daughter, but are not together any more. Except of course, it’s not that
simple.

Notes

So.

Hello everyone. I feel like I should introduce myself, cos it's my first fic- in case you
haven't notice the first 11 times I've said it. I'm Chafi, I'm French and I study English at uni
in Paris - which, no one cares about. What you might care about, though, is this fic, so I'm
gonna start talking about it now.

I'm so happy to finally be able to share this fic with you. I've been working on it for a little
over six months now, and it's a miracle I'm actually publishing it! It's relatively short,
compared to other chaptered fics out there, but I hope you like it anyway.

I wanna give a shout out to a few people, starting with wonderful Kat, who accepted to
beta for me, and did an amazing job at it! Thank you for taking your time with this, and
checking in on me. Go take a look at her page!
I'm also sending love to my wife Aya: I love you baby, you're my night light.
A massive thank you and a hug to Clem, for being my first reader. We bonded over fics,
that's how you know we were gonna work.
This last one is for the French team:
Mia, your name is in there somewhere. Find it.
Leeloo, we also bonded over fics, so I feel like this one is very much for you. I love you.

And of course, a big thank you to all of you. I hope you guys enjoy it, please feel free to
let me know your thoughts in the comments :)

The title comes from a song by a very talented French singer that all of you should check
out: Sounds Like Heaven by Marina Kaye ft Lindsey Stirling

See the end of the work for more notes

 Chapter 1
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

"Sandy, c'mon, your dad's going to be here any minute now!", Louis shouts, glancing at the
empty hallway for any sign of Harry.

"Papa, I can't find my teddy bear! Where is it?"

Louis sighs, rolling his eyes. It's 7pm, he's pretty hungry, Liam's waiting for him, and they've
already been through this too many times for him to keep his cool.

"I put it in your yellow bag, Sandy, how many times will I have to tell you?", he says with
exasperation. He's sweating a little, and his fringe is starting to stick to his forehead. It's the middle
of November, for God's sake, why is it so hot? "Hurry up, now, you know Harry gets mad if
you're not ready to go when he picks you up."

"No, I don't", someone says next to him, and he jumps, his hand slipping from the doorknob he's
been gripping tightly for the past ten minutes.

It's Harry. Well, of course it's Harry, Louis' been waiting for him for fifteen minutes, it better be
him. His very long red coat is dripping from the rain that's been pouring the whole week, and his
hair looks much darker than usual. Louis doesn't double take at his hand where he knows his
silver ring is shimmering.

"You're late", Louis remarks coldly, stepping away to let Harry in.

"Am not", Harry answers simply, and he crouches down soon enough to welcome a storm of
messy dark hair and uncontrollable giggles in his arms.

Louis knows he's not late. He doesn't say anything back.

"Dad! Papa gave me a colouring book this afternoon, for when we go to the studio!", Sandy
almost screams, her face still buried in Harry's hair. "We're still going to the studio, Dad, right?
With Perrie and Jesy?"

Harry doesn't respond, but he's smiling wildly now, as Louis watches his daughter put on her
green jacket. Sandy leans in to kiss Harry on the nose, and just like Louis expects it, Harry
pinches her cheek. He's noticed this very same exchange several times now, so he knows it kind
of became some sort of ritual for them. He's not endeared.

"Papa said I should bring it so I can let you work and not bother you" Sandy adds, and both Harry
and Louis freeze.

Dammit.

"Papa certainly likes to say funny stuff about me when I'm not around", Harry mumbles, and the
look he gives Louis is nothing close to amused. "You're never bothering me, honey, okay? We all
love to have you with us at work."

Sandy hums happily and gives another kiss to her dad, before running into Louis' arms. "Love
you Papa, I'll miss you!" Louis' heart melts at that, and this time, he's the one hugging their
daughter against his chest, peppering her face with kisses.
"I love you so much. Have fun, don't cause any trouble. I already miss you. Don't forget to take
your cough syrup before you go to bed, and no sweets after 5 p.m. And absolutely no T.V.
instead of napping, do you hear me?"

Louis hears Harry huff next to him, where he's already standing with Sandy's bags on his
shoulder. "You don't have to do this every time I pick her up, Louis, I'm her dad, I know this stuff,
too." The annoyance is clear in his voice, and Louis bites back any rude thing that's coming to his
mind at the moment. For Sandy's sake.

"Well, we never know", he simply says after a minute of tense silence. He pets Sandy lightly on
her head before kissing her one last time, and then turns to Harry. "When are you bringing her
back?"

Harry takes Sandy in his arms, her bags still hanging on one of his shoulders, and Louis has to
keep himself from staring at his flexed arm. Why the hell does his chest have to be so broad?

"We'll be here by Monday morning", Harry replies. Sandy claps enthusiastically and they both
smile at her excitement. "We're having dinner with Niall tonight", Harry adds, and Louis lifts an
eyebrow, surprised.

"Oh. Err... How is he? Haven't seen him in a while", he says, unsure. Harry scratches his neck,
and tries to position Sandy better as she starts playing with his hair.

"He's good, yeah. Been busy with a new client recently, but yeah. He asks about you a lot, you
should, um. I don't know, give him a call or something." Harry seems as uncomfortable as Louis.
They've been avoiding each other so much that the last time Louis has seen Niall was when he
babysat Sandy a few months ago because Harry was in Canada.

It's not that he's been doing it on purpose, though. Louis thinks about Niall, a lot, actually, Niall is
always good fun and many of his nights out would've have been better if Louis had invited him,
but. He's just shit at keeping contact. Also, texting your ex's best friend to plan getting-laid nights
out would be fucking awkward.

"Yeah, I will. Tell him I said hi", he decides to answer instead, and Harry just gives him a stiff
nod.

"I should... We should get going", he mumbles, and Sandy reaches out one last time for Louis to
give her a kiss. Louis steps closer, and hugs her tightly while she's still in Harry's arms, and. Nope.
Not a good idea. Harry smells like rain, and dirt, and cologne, and that's too many things at once
for Louis to be smelling before going on a date.

"Call me when you get there", is the last thing he says to Harry before closing the door behind
them.

They don't even exchange one last look, Harry doesn't even ask about his plans for tonight, like he
used to when they first started doing this. It feels as formal as it seems, with just a hint of
uneasiness that should make Louis feel like a failure to his daughter, but doesn't.

Yeah. Louis should be sad and bothered. But really, they've been doing that for a year, and by
now, he just feels empty. Both him and Harry know that there's no going back. No need to try and
pretend.

Dinner is okay. They don't end up going to Liam's, because it's raining too hard by the time Liam
gets to Louis', but they eat leftovers watching some stupid reality show, and they snog for bit after
that. It doesn't actually go very far, just some groping once in a while, cause Liam seems like the
romantic type, and every time Louis tries to bring things to the next level, he just smiles and kisses
his cheek. They drink a lot, though, and then they're back at kissing.

Louis can wait, he guesses. Liam's a pretty nice bloke, he's funny, and kind, and he's got a huge
cock. (Well, as far as Louis can judge with the little groping he's done so far.)

So yeah. Definitely worth the wait.

They kiss some more at the door before Liam leaves, and by the time he reaches his bedroom,
Louis' hard on has the time to calm down a little. He contemplates touching himself a little once
he's settled in bed, but just as he slips his hand in his pants, his phone starts ringing.

" 'llo?"

"Um...Louis. Hi." It's Harry. Louis groans. He's talking very quietly. Louis is already mad at him.

"What is it", he mumbles into the phone. His hand is actually still on his dick right now, so he
should probably take it out, but he doesn't. It's warm in here, okay? He just hopes Harry will stop
bothering him so he can go back to jacking off in peace.

"Um...Yeah, uh. Sandy just fell asleep. We're at Niall's, actually, 'cause it's raining too much, so I
guess we're staying here tonight, and maybe tomorrow? They said it wasn't going to calm down
on the radio. The weather, I mean."

Harry is rambling, and he's doing it so, so, quietly, and Louis wants to punch him in the face.

"I want to punch you in the face." He hears Harry huff, and his grip around the phone tightens.
God, Louis hates him. "Is it why you called? To tell me about the weather?"

Harry makes an indignant noise, and Louis can actually picture what face he's making right now.
His brows furrowed, his mouth agape and his hand ruffling his recently-trimmed curls.

"No, you twat, I called 'cause you told me to before we left, and because I thought you'd like to
know where your daughter sleeps at", Harry whispers angrily.

Yeah, he kind of has a point here.

"Well, thanks for telling me. Anything else, or can I go back to what I was doing?" He knows he's
being a brat for no reason here, since Harry's intentions were actually noble. But he really wants to
have a wank, and he's being kept away from it cause his ex wants to act like Prince Charming
when they both know what a dick he really is.

"Yeah, right", Harry laughs humourlessly into the phone. He's not whispering any more, so Louis
guesses he must have left Sandy's room. "I can hear you, you know. You've been drinking.
You're probably smashed, alone, on the sofa, waiting for your stupid show to end. What a way to
spend the night."

Louis doesn't even open his mouth to protest. He's used to Harry acting like a cunt ninety percent
of the time, so he doesn't give a shit about what he has to say. Instead, he hums and starts stroking
his cock lazily, because that's definitely more interesting. He feels relaxed, wine flowing in his
veins, and he's had a pretty great evening, so he doesn't see the point in engaging with Harry. He
decides to tell Harry so.

"I did drink a little, actually. But with Liam. That guy from work, you know? Really short hair?"
"The one that works out a lot?" Harry asks, and Louis is pretty pleased to know that Harry
remembers Liam from that party they went a year ago.

"Yeah, we're kind of dating now", he says quietly, his fist moving idly around his dick. He swipes
his thumb on the head, hisses a little, then does it again while he waits for Harry's answer.

"Oh. Well, that's good." Harry's voice is steady, and calm, and really not quavering. Louis frowns
and stops his movement. "He's pretty hot. Is he with you now? I'm sorry I interrupted, I'll...",
Harry starts to say next, but Louis doesn't let him finish.

"No, no, no! He's, uh. He left. We had dinner, but he's gone now", Louis explains quickly, and he
wants to hit himself in the head, because he doesn't owe any explanation to Harry. Why are they
even still talking? Louis was ready to hang up on him like, three minutes ago.

"Didn't you... What, doesn't he usually stay the night?", Harry asks incredulously. Louis wants to
scream. What is this conversation? Why is Harry asking stuff like that? Shouldn't he be, like,
jealous, or grumpy, or whatever? And why does Louis still have his dick in his hand?

"No," he says quietly. "We don't- we haven't... yet."

There's a silence on the line, and for a moment, Louis thinks Harry has actually hung up on him.
He contemplates laughing it off and saying that "Ha! You thought, Styles! I actually do have a lot
of great sex, thank you very much, so I'll leave you to your boring life and go get dicked down on
the couch right now!" when Harry speaks again.

"That explains a lot, actually."

And what? Is it amusement that Louis hears in his voice? Louis sits up, the hand around his cock
tightening abruptly, and he swears under his breath. "Excuse me? What is that supposed to
mean?"

Harry laughs. Like, a genuine, happy laugh, that's making Louis want to crawl into the phone,
come out on Harry's side, and sink his fingers inside Harry's eyeballs.

"I mean", Harry says between two chuckles, "you have to admit you've been in a shitty mood
lately. More than usual. That can only be the result of a cock drought." And then he erupts into
laughter again.

"You're such a dick, you know that?" Louis spits into the phone. He's about to hang up for real
this time - he does have a sexual condition that needs to be fixed at the moment - but Harry starts
talking again.

"Yeah, right. You love my dick. You'd be pretty happy to have it right now, I'm sure, with the
torture you've been living lately." He still sounds fairly amused but Louis freezes nonetheless. He
does love Harry's dick. Did. Does? It's still just a dick. Very pretty dick, very big, especially when
hard. Louis' mouth is watering. He whines.

He should've pulled his hand out of his pants a while ago. He really can't handle hearing Harry
talk about his dick right now. Not when his own is half hard in his hand, and he can't seem to take
it away. God, he hates drunk-him.

"I'm gonna hang up, now", he says, his voice strained. He notices how his hand around the phone
is slightly shaking, and gulps loudly.

"Right", Harry laughs some more. "Bye, Louis. I'll have Sandy call you tomorrow morning. If
you're not too hungover," he adds with what Louis knows is a cheeky smile.

"Yeah, okay, bye," Louis replies quickly, and then he's tossing the phone across his bedroom.

In one second, he's lying down again, his hand moving impossibly fast around himself, not even
bothering with lube. It burns a little, but Louis doesn't care. He's only thinking about how the
hands that used to touch him were usually already wet, cause he's always liked to suck on a few
fingers first, he thinks hard about Liam's fingers, about how he likes it when Liam has his hand on
Louis' hips, he thinks about how good Liam smells, he thinks about the smell of rain and cologne,
and about a broad chest and muscular arms and curly dark hair and a long, red coat, and he's
coming, fast and in the most unsatisfying way possible, the name of someone he would like to
forget on the tip of his tongue.

There's still come in his pants an hour later. There's also a tear on his left cheek. He falls asleep
with both drying on his skin.

The first time they'd seen each other after the break up, Louis was at work. He remembers it quite
well, actually. He had taken a week off, and it was his first day back in the studio. Lauren had sent
him a text asking to come down cause she'd apparently found a great beat for the song they were
working on, and he had somehow felt excited to leave his bed. Sandy was with his sister anyway,
so he could go without having to worry about her.

Harry had been waiting for him in the parking lot, and sadly enough, his curly head was the first
thing Louis saw after a week of anti-socialization. He remembers contemplating hiding in his car
until Harry decided to leave, but then, a pair of green eyes had sunk into his and in seconds, Harry
was stood next to the door.

His once long hair was let down on his shoulders and the wind was making it flutter a little. He
was wearing a long brown coat, his hands buried in his pockets. Louis remembers wanting to cry.

He had gotten out of his car, avoiding Harry's eyes. He had felt his stare on the back of his neck
while he stood there, eyeing his own reflexion instead of turning around.

"Why are you here?", he had asked, his voice barely a whisper in the wind of October.

He doesn't remember what had Harry answered. It's not that important. He's not even sure Harry
had answered anything, actually. He simply recalls strong hands settling on his hips and spinning
him around, and burning lips crashing onto his, swallowing his gasp.

He can still feel the cold rain slipping inside of his raincoat and in between the warmth of his and
Harry's mouths. It had felt good. Harry was holding him so close, so tight, like he never wanted to
let go, and for a second, Louis had let himself believe it. Believe in a future where they could
work this out, and forgive each other.

That's all it had been, though. One second of hope.

He had detached himself from Harry's grip and without another word, he had taken up his bag that
had fallen on the ground during the kiss, and he had walked away. From his car, from Harry, from
this life that suddenly felt like being trapped inside a suffocating shoebox.
He vaguely recalls spending the rest of the day writing Lauren's song, and even recording it. She
sounded great on it. It's still one of his favourite songs he's ever written for someone.

Now, waiting in the kitchen for Harry to drop off Sandy, listening to this song, he can't help but
wonder. He had walked away, yes.

But the feeling of being trapped is still here.

Louis goes on three other dates with Liam before it happens. They don't actually go out, of course,
as they can't risk the press seeing them together when Louis and Harry are technically still
married, so they always stay at Liam's, or occasionally at Louis'.

So it's a bit of a hazardous thing when Liam arrives unannounced at his apartment a Saturday
evening, a massive bouquet of roses and bottle of expensive champagne in hands.

“Li?” Louis asks, confused, once he's opened the door. “What're you doing here?”

Liam smiles shyly and scratches the back of his neck. His cheeks turn pink, and Louis can't help
but smile in return, a little bit endeared.

“Um...I thought... You said Sandy wasn't here during the weekend? And I know we haven't
planned a date really, or anything, but I thought it'd be nice to stop by and ...” He starts coughing,
flushing impossibly harder, and Louis decides to put an end to his misery and steps away with a
reassuring smile to let him in.

“Like, I know we haven't really talked about it, per se,” Liam continues as Louis takes the flowers
and the champagne from his hands, “but I thought tonight would be the time, I guess? I really like
you, Louis, and I know you're situation isn't exactly the best regarding our dating possibilities,
being a celeb and all that, but I really want us to work out and--”

Louis shuts him up with a kiss. He grabs his neck and pulls him down to make their lips meet, and
does his best to make the kiss last longer, as long as possible, just so Liam would stop talking.

“Louis,” Liam breathes against his mouth, his big hands coming to rest on Louis' waist, “Louis, I
want you.”

Louis freezes. His hands tighten on Liam and he frowns, searching for his friend's eyes.

“You... Do you mean...?”

Liam exhales and brings their lips together for a quick peck before stepping away and taking
Louis' hands in his own.

“I mean everything. I mean I want you to be my boyfriend, and I want you to be mine. In all the
ways possible,” he adds, one of his hand flying from Louis' hand to his hip. “I want all of you.”

And. Okay. What? Louis wasn't aware of their relationship going so well they were ready to take
the boyfriend leap. Louis is still married, for fuck's sake! He likes Liam, that's for sure, and he
really wants to have sex with him too, but what the fuck? An actual relationship? A boyfriends-
buying-flowers-for-each-other kind of relationship?
“Err...,” is all he managed to say back to a very hopeful Liam.

Liam's face starts to fall a little, but right then, a loud bang makes them both jump and drop their
hands.

“Papa! We're here! Papa, open the door!”

Louis panics. So does Liam. His eyes widen and he grabs Louis' arm, whisper-shouting, “What
the hell? You're daughter's here? I thought she was with Harry during the weekend!”

Louis shakes his head, trying to smooth out his shirt and biting his lip with frustration. “Not this
weekend, no. Harry has an interview in Portland tomorrow morning, she's here tonight. That's
why I didn't ask you out!”

He's pretty angry, to say the least. At Liam, first of all, for barging in here without notice, at Harry,
for his stupid job and his stupid dedication to his fans that got them here in the first place, and at
himself for forgetting that his daughter was about to arrive as soon as he saw a fit bloke with the
promise of good dicking on his doorstep.

“Papa!” Louis hears again, and this time, he shakes Liam's hand off his arm before lifting his
finger at his face.

“Behave,” he demands, and okay. That's unfair. Liam is the sweetest guy he knows, he obviously
won't act like a jerk, like Louis does at the moment. But he's stressed, and he needs someone to
take it out onto.

And really, if Liam wants to be his man so bad, he better learn right now how to deal with Louis
when he's feeling anxious.

"Louis? You're here?" This time, it's Harry's voice that comes from the other side of the door, and
Louis gulps. God, this is going to be a disaster.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming!"

He rushed to the door, leaving Liam standing in the middle of hallway, and without another
thought, he opens it.

"Papa!"

Sandy jumps in his arms and Louis laughs as she wraps herself around him. He buries his face in
her curls, inhaling her sweet smell, and he feels instantly calmer as he hears her giggling in his ear.

"I went to the library today, Papa! Dad bought me so many books, I can't wait to show you!"

"Did he, now?" he asks for good measure, meeting Harry's eyes over her shoulder. "That's really
nice. Can't wait either."

Harry nods stiffly and pinches his lips together, staring at his feet, visibly trying to make an effort
to interact with Louis, but failing miserably.

Louis is about to thank him and take the bag from his hand, when Sandy shifts in his arms.

"Who's that, Papa?"

Louis' entire body turns into stone as Harry's head snaps up and his eyes lock with a point right
above Louis' shoulder.
"Um...Hi! You're the little Sandy, right? I'm Liam."

Louis can't remember why he thought he could get away with Harry and Sandy not seeing Liam
when the man is standing right in the middle of his hallway. Sometimes, he's dumb.

It goes horribly. Liam tries his best to stay polite in front of an incredibly rude Harry, who literally
refuses to shake his hand and goes straight to Louis' kitchen, pouring himself a glass of
champagne like he fucking owns the place.

"Do you mind?" Louis snaps, taking the glass from Harry's hand before it reaches his mouth.
"That's not for you."

Harry rolls his eyes, but doesn't answer. Instead, he unlocks his phone and starts playing fucking
Candy Crush. Fucking twat, Louis thinks as he turns his heels to go to his daughter.

Sandy and Liam are engaged in an animated conversation in the living room when Louis steps in,
and he stops at the doorstep, looking at the interaction.

"And that's a book about cars! It explains how they function on the inside, you know what I
mean? It's so nice, it's so I can fix cars when I grow up!" Sandy nearly screams in Liam's ear. She
looks really excited, and Louis' heart flutters when he catches the endeared expression on Liam's
face.

"Come one, little one, time to shower! Say bye to Liam," he says, going in to take his daughter in
his arms.

"Bye, Liam! You're really nice, you can come read books with me anytime!" Sandy then blows
him a kiss, and Louis winks at Liam before carrying her to the bathroom.

When he comes out of her room after he's put her to bed, Louis finds Liam in the living room,
leafing through Sandy's nail art book.

"You're still here," Louis states, surprised. He goes to sit next to Liam who simply wraps his arm
around Louis' shoulder, bringing him in for a cuddle.

"Yeah. Don't worry, I'm leaving, just wanted to say bye."

"Oh. Alright," Louis whispers. "Bye, then."

They both start laughing, and then Liam leans in to kiss Louis lightly on the lips.

"You know, about what I said earlier," Liam says quietly. Louis nods, starting to feel
uncomfortable again. "I didn't mean to put you on the spot. I know I shouldn't have come tonight,
without telling you, and asking you so bluntly about stuff involving commitment. I realize how
stupid that was. I'm sorry."

Louis relaxes in his arms, nuzzling Liam's jaw. He truly is a precious human being. Louis thinks
he likes him back.

"Apologies accepted. And I like you too, you know. It's just..." He sighs, and Liam nods, pressing
a kiss on his head. "I'm still with Harry, I mean, as far as his fans and the medias are concerned,
and I'd hate to be with you in those conditions. If I get to call you my boyfriend, I don't want it to
be only in here, or at yours."
Liam doesn't say anything back. He just holds Louis tighter, and peppers kisses along his neck.

When Liam leaves half an hour later, Louis' heart is full and he feels happy and light and ready to
climb a mountain with no equipment. He smiles lazily and heads towards the kitchen with the
intention of drinking a glass of that very promising champagne Liam has brought.

He full stops as soon as he catches the sight of Harry, still sitting on the counter, his long legs
dangling idly and his eyes locked on his phone screen.

"What the fuck. Why are you still here?"

Harry jumps at the sound of Louis' voice, and he looks around for a moment, like he's forgotten
where he is.

"Oh. Uh. Shit. Sorry, I got caught up in my game, I'll just...," he starts rambling, and Louis, who
was feeling pretty good a second ago, feels a boiling rage settling in his veins.

"Would you care to explain what the fuck was it that you did out there?" he hisses, his hands
clenched in tights fists.

"What do you mean?" Harry replies, not looking at him.

"Don't play dumb with me, you arsehole, what the actual fuck," and the more he speaks, the more
Louis feels his anger shift into a mix of confusion and actual curiosity. "I remember you guys
getting on quite well at that party last year, why were you so rude with him?"

Harry snorts as he leans against the counter, his eyes still not meeting Louis'. "He wasn't trying to
suck your dick back then."

Louis lifts an eyebrow. That was really not expected. And he probably should start asking
important questions, like why do you care and do you still think I'm yours for thinking stuff like
that, but instead, Louis does something dumb.

"He wasn't either, tonight," he mumbles, crossing the kitchen to pour himself a glass of
champagne.

"Oh, please," Harry's voice laughs behind his back. "Roses and champagne? I'm surprised he
didn't bring chocolate and strawberries too. That clearly was an attempt to get into your pants."

Louis' hand tenses up around the neck of the bottle, and he takes a deep sight before pouring the
golden liquid in the fancy glass he's taken from the cupboard. Harry is such a dickhead, god.

"Actually, that was an attempt to get into my heart," he says, and that sounds so cheesy he almost
joins Harry when he erupts into laughter in his back. "I'm serious," he adds after a moment, noting
that Harry is really not convinced. "Some guys have a bit of class you know. They do things
right."

"Yeah, I'm sure," Harry replies with a mocking tone, and Louis can't see him and he knows
Harry's wearing that insufferable smirk on his face.

"He asked me to be his boyfriend."

They fall into a very tense silence after that. Louis doesn't want to face Harry, so he won't turn
around, but he can still hear every breath that Harry takes, and he can feel him staring at the back
of his neck, and it's so much already.
He brings his glass to his lips, sipping lightly at the champagne, waiting.

"That's, uh." Harry clears his throat. "That's good. Great. Um...What did you say?"

Louis puts the glass in front of him and claps his hands against the gas cooker. "That we should
wait until the divorce is settled before getting exclusive."

"But... Louis, that's not going to happen any time soon, you know that right? I thought we'd talked
about it." Louis can see Harry's frown as he hears him talk, and his knuckles turn white with how
hard he's holding onto the counter.

"I know that, H," he snaps. "I know."

"You shouldn't keep yourself from having a boyfriend just because of this," Harry adds, and
Louis huffs and turns around, planting his eyes inside of Harry's.

"Yeah right. Because I'm so selfish I'm going to put my daughter's life, and your career as well as
mine at risk because I want to have a dick to sit on regularly."

Harry hides his face in his hands and groans. "God, Louis. No, that's not what I meant, you know
that. I just... I'm sorry okay? That this has to be so complicated. That you can't have a life of your
own without me fucking it all up all the time."

"You're not fucking it up, Harry, shut up," Louis responds, annoyed and tired. "I said no cause
I'm not ready to get exclusive with him right now. You have nothing to do with it."

"Why though? He seems sweet, even with Sandy, from what I heard tonight," Harry insists, and
Louis doesn't understand. What is his problem? "He'd be a good boyfriend. Is it because you're
seeing other people as well?"

Louis' mouth falls open with a loud gasp. "What the fuck, Styles, no, fuck you."

Harry lifts his hand in front of him, clearly realising his mistake. "Sorry, sorry, it's just... You said
you don't feel like being exclusive with him. I just... assumed. Sorry."

Louis is still a bit pissed though, so he just sips from his glass and doesn't answer.

"I, uh. I'm seeing someone, too."

Just like that, Louis' world stills. There's no weird bang, he doesn't stop breathing, but for a
moment, it's really warm in his chest. And it's get impossibly hotter, impossibly fast, and Louis
wants to curve into a ball on the floor. But he can't, so he nods and empties his glass of
champagne, in one go.

"She's... Her name's Isma. She works with Lou, she's a makeup youtuber, or whatever, and..."

"That's cool," Louis interrupts, putting his glass in the sink with a loud noise. "Good luck with
her."

They're back at avoiding each other's stare. Louis wants to puke. He feels like he's going to faint
any minute now.

"She actually wants to meet you," Harry blurts out, and okay, what? Louis meets his eyes and
instantly knows that Harry too thinks it's a dumb idea. He doesn't say so, though. "Sandy likes her
a lot, so like. I'm sure you'll get on well. If you wanna meet her, I mean."
"Sandy's met her?" Louis gasps.

Harry frowns. "Yeah well, she also just met Liam, so."

"That wasn't planned!" Louis half shouts, completely baffled by the news of his daughter meeting
her future stepmother. Ugh. Just the thought of it makes him sick.

"Oh yeah right, I forgot. You like to go around fucking people behind your daughter's back,"
Harry spits bitterly.

Louis sees red. He backs off the counter and takes rapid steps towards Harry, who doesn't have
the time to step away from where he's standing and finds himself facing a very angry, very small,
but very scary Louis.

"You're a massive twat, let me tell you, Styles. Who I fuck isn't my daughter's business, okay?
And it's not yours either, so I won't let you talk to me like you have a say in any of this!" Harry
doesn't say anything back, he simply gapes at Louis, looking down at him because he's so bloody
tall, and Louis doesn't think before swatting dryly at Harry's chest. "God, what were you
thinking? She's five! Living separately and letting her know we're not together anymore is already
enough of a risk, imagine putting into her head that she has a new mother above it all! She's not
going to keep that to herself, she's a kid! What if the press hears about it, huh?"

Harry finally steps away, rolling his eyes. "She doesn't even know Isma and I are going out. She
thinks we're friends, chill."

Louis pouts and crosses his arms. "That doesn't make it right. This is not right."

"Yes, it is," Harry sighs, combing his hair with his fingers. Several rings are shining on them, and
Louis notices a new one decorated with a red ruby on his forefinger. "You're just jealous."

At that, Louis throws his arms in the air. "Well of bloody course I am! I don't want my daughter to
have a new mother!"

He can hear the frustration in Harry's sigh as he pulls out a chair from the table and slumps down
on it. "And I don't want her to have another dad either, but hey, look who's calling who selfish
here!"

"Liam is not going to be her dad! We're not even properly together!"

"Isma isn't going to be her mother either, okay? We've just been on a couple of dates, that's it."

"And yet she's met our daughter!"

"Yes, cause we saw her at Tesco last Friday!" Harry rises up from his chair steps closer to where
Louis is standing, but Louis is too caught up in his rising anger that he doesn't even notice.

"And she wants to meet me!"

"Cause she loves your songs, she's a big fan of yours!"

"I don't care, okay? I don't care she's a fan, she can eat my ass, she's not going to meet me just so
she can fuck off later with my daughter and my husband!" Louis is screaming, and he should
consider toning it down cause Sandy is sleeping on the same floor, but tears are starting to gather
around his lashes and his voice is slightly quivering, and he doesn't care about waking her up as
much as he should.
All he can think about is how he's been such a fool that a woman is going to steal his girl and his
man, and he's completely helpless cause none of them both were entirely his in the first place.

"Louis," Harry whispers quietly, his hand coming to rest hesitantly on Louis' shoulders. "You
know it's not going to happen."

Louis shakes him off and takes a few steps away. "No, I don't."

He grips the bottle of champagne and goes to pick up the glass from the sink. His throat is tight
and it hurts to swallow, so when he speaks again, to a Harry who looks sad and frustrated, it's
with a simple murmur.

"I'm going to bed. You can show yourself out."

Liam comes by a few days later and cooks dinner for him and Sandy. Sandy helps him with
cooking the pasta and they chat animatedly while Louis watches them.

"You know, I have a little niece who's exactly your age," Liam tells her as he's chopping the
tomatoes. "We get on really well. Maybe that's why you and I are having so much fun! You
remind me a bit of her."

"What's her name?" Sandy asks, curious.

"Mia," Liam says with a soft smile.

Sandy claps happily and to both Louis and Liam's surprise, she leans in from the counter and
kisses him on the cheek. "I like you a lot, Liam. You can stay with us all the time! You should
bring Mia with you next time you come."

Louis lets out an awkward laugh, but Liam doesn't seem bothered by the way his not-boyfriend-
yet's daughter is talking to him. He just nod excitedly and winks at Louis when their eyes meet,
and. Okay. Louis feels butterflies.

It's just... it's nice to see his daughter and Liam having fun in the kitchen. So nice to spend some
time with Liam when he's acting natural and confident around his daughter enough for her to be
comfortable and happy. So nice to feel like his got a real family, that likes to spend Tuesday nights
cooking pasta and goofing around in the kitchen.

It's so nice that he ends up taking his camera and filming them with a giant smile on his face.

Later on, when Sandy is in bed, Liam lays him down on the couch and kisses him so hard he can't
feel his lips. They don't do anything more, they just snog, as usual, but this time it's so intimate and
concrete that Louis is red and panting when they're done. Yep. Definitely butterflies.

After Liam is gone, Louis goes to his room and finds his phone's screen lighting the dark room.
He frowns and goes to unlock it, and sees he's received a text from Harry.

Harry [21:45]: Can I come over ?

Louis sighs, checking the clock. It's past 11pm. What does Harry even want? They haven't talked
since last weekend and things are not better, as far as Louis is concerned, so he's kind of worried
about Harry's intentions here.

Louis [23:07]: Sorry, didn't see your message. Is something wrong?

Louis puts his phone down after that, and goes to take a quick shower. He finds himself actually
singing under the hot stream of water, and when he gets out, it's with a dreamy smile on his face.

His phone is still flashing on his bed. He has three notifications.

Harry [23:10]: Can I call?

[23:10]: You have one missed call from 'Harry'

Harry [23:11]: Call me back when you can

Louis stares harder at his phone screen, frowning. What the hell? He sits on the edge of the bed
and rapidly calls Harry's number, getting more worried every second.

" 'llo," Harry's voice says after two rings. He sounds a bit breathless, and there is a lot of noise
behind him.

"Harry, what's going on?"

"Can I... I'm coming over, okay?" And yeah, now Louis can make up the sound of the streets over
the phone.

"What? No, what the fuck Harry! Are you driving? Hang up, for fuck's sake!" Louis whisper-
shouts, his fist in a ball.

"I'm not driving, calm down, Stan is driving me," Harry sighs. "Can I come over please? I'm
already on the way, I'm almost there."

"Why?" Louis asks incredulously. "Harry, it's half past eleven, what do you want that can't wait
for tomorrow?"

"Please, Louis. I'm leaving for Paris tomorrow, and I need to talk to you about this in person."

"C'mon, Harry, I'm going to bed, it's not... Just tell me on the phone."

"What is it, are you having your boyfriend over or something?" Harry asks, and there's a hint of
sarcasm in his tone.

"No, dickhead, Liam left half an hour ago cause he, unlike you, has the notion of boundaries and
time and why you shouldn't barge in people's home at arse o'clock !" Louis tries his best to be as
quiet as possible, but really, when has this worked when Harry is concerned?

"Louis. It's 11pm. Not three in the morning. Stop acting like a grandpa, I'm almost there anyway."
Harry sounds so patronizing that Louis feels blood in his mouth with how hard he's been biting
unconsciously the inside of his cheek.

"Fuck you."

"See you in a bit," is what Harry says last before he hangs up.

Louis groans in frustration and goes to put on a pair of pants and some torn up shirt, gritting his
teeth. Why does it always have to be so complicated? He's just had the most amazing evening, he
fucking sung in the shower, for God's sake! But here comes Harry, on his way to ruin Louis' life
once again.

Fucking twat.

There's a knock on his door ten minutes later, and Louis drags himself out of his room to go and
open it.

Harry is wearing a tank top. Louis doesn't really know what happens in the next minute, because
Harry is wearing a white tank top, and very skinny blue jeans, and a... is that a freaking
Halloween themed headband in his head? What the fuck?

"Can I come in?"

Louis blinks twice, and then realizes that Harry has just been speaking to him. He clears his throat
and, true to himself, cocks his hip and gives Harry the most unimpressed stare he can muster.

"You're twenty-eight, why are you dressed like a teenage hipster going to Coachella?"

Harry rolls his eyes and walks past Louis, letting himself in. He goes straight to the kitchen, and
Louis doesn't have to look to know that's he's going to make himself a cup of tea.

"It's for my next role. The director wants me to try some method acting or some shit and try to act
more like a teenager," Harry explains dully, like he himself doesn't know why he's telling Louis
all of this.

"Is it why you're coming to bother me in this fine evening? To tell me about your successful acting
career?" Louis asks, pulling up a chair and straddling it so he can face Harry who's busy with the
tea making.

"Uh, well. Kind of," Harry shrugs. Louis lifts an eyebrow, so he proceeds. "I don't know if Sandy
told you, but I did the main character's voice in that Disney/Pixar animated movie."

"Oh, you did?" Louis asks, amazement in his tone. "Well, you know what? I don't care," he adds,
a fake smile plastered on his face.

"I know you do, dickhead," Harry mumbles as he pours them both a cup of steaming water. He
puts a tea bag in each and adds some milk in Louis' cup before bringing them to the table.

He takes a seat before speaking again.

"So the premiere is in two weeks. Cathy just called and told me it was going to be at Disneyland
Paris and that I could bring Sandy."

"Oh." Louis simply says. He wasn't expecting that, to say the least. He clears his throat, and nods.

"Uh, yeah, okay I guess? What is it exactly, you want me to give you permission?" he asks,
perplexed.

"No, it's not that. It's just... I'll already be in Paris, I'm leaving tomorrow, remember?" He takes sip
of his tea, obviously uncomfortable. Louis doesn't know what is going on.

"So like, I can bring a few more people, so I thought you could come with her? If you don't want
her to fly alone with a flight attendant or something. Cause she's still five, and..."
"Is it your way of asking me to be your date at that thing? 'Cause I know we have to keep up the
appearance or whatever for your image, we've done this before, so you don't need to go all 'if you
want to' on me."

Louis knows he's being a bit harsh. He just can't help it. Did Harry come here just to play the
good guy and take their daughter's safety as an excuse for Louis to serve his career once again?
Shut the fuck up.

"That's not... That's not why I asked, Louis, come on," Harry sighs, his head falling in his hands.
"I'm trying to be civil, here. You don't have to come to this one, we'll make up some excuse if the
press asks, it doesn't matter. I just thought you'd like to be with her the first time she goes to
Disneyland."

"Of course, I do, you idiot! What kind of question is that?" Louis hisses, sipping his tea and
glaring at Harry at the same time.

"I don't know Louis, you tell me! Look how you react every time I try and talk to you," and this
time it's Harry's turn to glare, and fuck. His jaw is tightening, and Louis can see it.

Shit. He hates how much he loves to see Harry getting mad.

"Whatever," he mumbles, well aware that he's ignoring the whole point of the argument. "Don't
you want to bring your girlfriend as your plus one, anyway?"

It's a useless comment, and he knows it. They've been through this so many times, he kind of
expects Harry to really get angry after he's said it, but oddly, the man stays silent.

"What is it?" Louis asks, irritated.

"Um...Actually. About that." Harry takes his cup to his lips and doesn't meet Louis' eyes. "Isma
will already be there."

Louis' head snaps up. What?

"What the hell? Why?"

Harry lifts his hands in front of him with the decency of looking ashamed.

"It's not... I didn't invite her, she's part of the cast! That's how we met. I swear, Louis, I wouldn't
put you on the spot like this," he says more quietly, and this time, he's searching for Louis' eyes.

Louis turns his head and stands up, bringing his cup in the sink. He leans against it, his arms
crossed, and starts scratching his elbow.

"Yeah, whatever. I don't care, anyway. Didn't you say you could bring more people? I'll take
Liam with me."

Louis feels bad. He knows he's just used Liam to make Harry feel like shit, and Liam doesn't
deserve that. Harry does deserve to suffer, mind him, but not Liam. However, the damage is done,
and since Louis has never learnt how to fucking stop, he speaks again.

"That way, I'll have my dose of sex and I won't act like a prick around you. It's a win-win
situation."

Harry shoots up from his chair, his cheeks red. Yeah, Louis thinks, that wasn't the smartest thing
he's said.
"Are you nuts? I'm not paying for that guys' flight ticket and for his hotel room so he can have sex
with my husband whenever he wants!" He's angry, Louis can tell. He's not shouting yet, and he
probably won't, because Sandy is asleep and, unlike Louis, he has an ounce of self-control in him.

"Well you're fucking your Irma whenever you want, how is that different?" Louis spits, his hands
resting on his hips.

"It's Isma and you know it," Harry groans. "And I'm not fucking her, just as I won't be in two
weeks either, Louis, because believe or not, I have some respect left for you!" Harry takes a few
steps forwards, his nostrils flaring with how mad he is. Louis feels a shiver zip down his spine.

"Yeah right, tell that to yourself. Turns out I don't respect you anymore, Styles, so whether I'll be
going to that premiere or not, know that Liam will be with me, fucking my brains out, and you
won't be able to do anything about it!"

Louis does not expect what happens next. Well. Maybe he does.

Harry lets out an almost animalistic growl and in two steps, he's on Louis. Louis thinks he can
smell Harry's cologne before he can feel his hands gripping his wrist, but then. Then he stops
thinking.

He feels familiar lips on his own, and a familiar chest pressed against his, and he feels tears
streaming down his cheeks. He doesn't know to whom they belong.

Harry brings Louis' hands around his own neck, and squeezes his wrist so Louis leaves them
there. His own hands go to Louis waist, and he pulls him roughly against him, closer than they
already are, and Louis huffs inside Harry's mouth.

Harry seems to take it as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside Louis' mouth, and they both
moan as their tongues collide, tasting each other for the first time after a year. Harry tastes like tea
and mint and there's even a little hint of smoke in his breath. He tastes so good, Louis might faint.

Harry's leg comes to rest between his open ones, and Louis can't help but roll his hips against it, a
hot shock running along his limbs. Harry kisses him harder, biting his lips and groaning in his
mouth, and brings Louis' hips against his leg, helping him to roll them on him.

"C'mon, Lou," he pants in between kisses, his voice strained. "Go ahead, I know you want to.
Take it, take it, c'mon, take it."

He doesn't make any sense, but Louis is so hard, and things are happening so fast, that he just
knows. He knows what he wants, and now he knows he's going to take it because Harry's given
him permission to.

He drops to his knees, his hands working fast on Harry's fly. He can't hear anything over the
beating of his heart, over his harsh breaths. He can't feel his lips because of how hard Harry bit
them, but he can feel Harry's hand resting on his scalp, and his thumb caressing his cheek, and he
can see his cock, half hard and so pretty and so big Louis might cry, and that's all he needs.

"Go on," he thinks he can hear Harry say, before he leans in and presses an open mouthed kiss on
the tip.

Harry's dick has never tasted like anything spectacular, Louis must admit. It's a dick, and it's
precome, and while he agrees about the whole sexiness of it, it still doesn't taste very good.

However, right this moment, he feels starved for it, and without a second thought, he takes all of it
in his mouth. Or he tries, at least. It's been a while and yeah, Harry is huge, so he only manages to
take a few inches before pulling back, and then diving in again.

Above his head, Louis can hear Harry struggling to stay quiet. He's always had a hard time
keeping the noises in every time Louis has had his mouth on him, whether it had been on his dick,
or his nipples, or on his arse. Harry has just simply always loved his mouth, Louis knows it.

"Louis, Lou- oh my god, Louis- baby, please, can you just. Fuck. We need to..." Harry cuts
himself off with another whine, and Louis kind of wants to smile at that, but he also really can't
cause Harry's cock is stretching his lips too wide.

He pulls away and lifts his gaze, meeting Harry's eyes as he starts tonguing lightly at the head.
"What is it," he asks, his voice barely a murmur but still extremely hoarse to his own ears.

"We should go to your room, what if- shit, stop doing that, I'm trying to speak," Harry whisper-
shouts, grabbing Louis' hair in his fist and pulling his head back harshly, making Louis stumble
back a little.

A single shiver runs down Louis' spine and he really wants Harry to keep his hands in his hair,
almost wants to beg for it. But Harry's frown seems to be serious, so he zones back in and waits
for him to start talking again.

"We shouldn't do this here, what if Sandy sees us?"

"She won't, she's sound asleep," Louis shakes his head, already opening his mouth to get back to
work.

"Louis, c'mon, listen to me," Harry tries again, pulling at his hair to keep his mouth away from his
cock. Louis almost pouts.

"My room's walls are not soundproof, she's going to hear us if we go in there. It's safer here," he
explains, not even bothering to hide his annoyance.

He really wants to have sex, and Harry interrupting him is starting to make him go soft. If it
weren't for the hand in his hair, he would already be standing up asking Harry to leave.

"Yeah, but if she wakes up and walks in on us, what do we do?" Harry presses.

Louis rolls his eyes back at him. "At this rate, she's not going to be walking in on anything," he
mumbles.

Harry groans and pulls slightly at his hair to make him stand up. Louis obliges, this time full on
pouting, and he even folds his arms against his chest.

"Let's go to your room," Harry states, not even giving Louis the impression that he has a choice.
"I promise I'll be quiet."

He leans in before Louis can say anything and kisses his lips softly, almost chastely, a vivid
contrast with how his hand is still pulling at Louis' hair and how his cock is hanging hard between
his legs, pants halfway down his legs.

Louis' eyes flutter open after Harry pulls away, and he's too out of it to say anything, so he simply
nods and waits for Harry to pull his pants back up before he leads them both to his bedroom.

He doesn't switch the lights on. He strips quietly and waits for Harry to do the same, and for a
moment, it's almost like the mood has been broken because he can't bring himself to look at Harry
any more.
"Hey," he hears a voice whispering in his ear, and oh. Harry is standing behind him now, his hand
coming to rest on Louis' hips, breath light and warm against the back of his neck. "You sure you
want to do this?"

Louis gulps. Funnily enough, that's all he's been craving for the past twelve months, but now, he
can't bring himself to say it to Harry. So, he settles with imperceptibly leaning back so his back
grazes Harry's chest, and that's all it takes for Harry to spin him around and claim his lips once
again.

Harry's hand start roaming all over his now-naked body, and Louis' skin is tingling in the best way
possible. He backs away blindly, pulling Harry with him as he lets himself fall onto the bed.

It's a mess of tongues, teeth, and searching lips and when Harry kisses his way down his chest,
leaving a huge mark right against Louis' hipbone, Louis thinks his soul might leave his burning
hot body.

"Will you let me?" Harry asks, almost reverently, his mouth only a few inches away from Louis'
dick. "Please?"

Louis can't bite back his moan and his fist immediately comes to his mouth, preventing other
noises from coming out. That must have been the answer Harry was waiting for, because he
doesn't waste a second before he takes Louis in his mouth, his pink, obscene lips wrapping around
Louis' cock and slurping like it's fucking candy.

Louis doesn't know how long he lasts. One minute, he's biting down on his fingers, Harry doing
something incredible with his tongue on his balls, and the next, white stripes are coming out of his
dick, some of it landing on Harry's chin before he closes his fists around the tip and collects it all
in his hand.

"You're so beautiful," Louis thinks he can hear Harry whisper. He whimpers lightly, his hand
leaving his mouth to wrap around Harry's neck as Harry climbs up on body, connecting their
mouth in a messy, wet kiss.

They kiss for what feels like hours. Louis almost gets lost in it, but then Harry starts rocking his
hips against his thigh, and all of a sudden, that's all Louis can focus on. The drag of his smooth
and slightly wet tip on his skin, the silent gasps leaving Harry's mouth and landing his tongue.

"You gonna come?" he asks breathlessly, his hands travelling down Harry's back, nails scratching
his shoulder blades just how Louis knows Harry loves.

"Fuck," Harry curses before he bites Louis' bottom lip harshly. "You know I am. You know
exactly what you're doing to me- shit- you're so good, always so good, gonna make me come so
good--"

He doesn't finish his sentence. Louis barely has time to look down between them to catch Harry's
cock spurting come on him, right on the bruise he's left on his hip. If he hadn't come minutes ago,
he would've just now, because fucking hell, that was hot.

They don't move for a while. They just stay here, breathing heavily against each other's mouth,
exchanging lazy kisses. Louis can feel both his and Harry's come drying on him, but he can't bring
himself to care, as gross as he knows he's gonna feel the next morning.

"Sleep," he manages to whisper, hands buried in Harry's hair.

Harry kisses him again and then nods, before he rolls over and settles next to him, arms
 immediately coming to wrap around Louis' waist. He crooks his head in Louis' neck, and sighs.

"G'night," he murmurs, pecking Louis' collarbone.

Louis wants to say so many things. He wants to tell Harry that he's sorry, that he shouldn't have
been so mean to him all these months, he wants to tell him that tonight was the best thing that's
ever happened to him in a year, he wants to grip Harry's face and tell him 'I love you, I never
stopped loving you, please, take me back' but he's tired, and sleepy, and he thinks that there will
always be tomorrow.

"Good night," Louis answers.

Yes. Tomorrow.

When Louis wakes up the next morning, he's alone. The bed is still warm next to him, and there's
a single piece of paper lying on the pillow, a yellow sticky note with black scribbles written on it.

He sits up and takes it, arm numb, blinking several times to accommodate his eyesight to the light
in the room.

Louis,

I had to take a flight to Paris very early this morning. We'll see each other there in a couple of
weeks, I'll email you the details soon.
I'm sorry about last night, I shouldn't have done what I did, nor said what I said. Liam is welcome
to join you if you want to bring him along. I'm really sorry.

Have a good day, H.

It's only when Sandy comes barging in with her thumb in her mouth, demanding that he cooks her
pancakes for breakfast that he notices the single tear that's crashed on the note, making the words
look smudgy.

Chapter End Notes

And that's it for chapter 1! What are you guys feeling right now? Please tell me in the
comments, I'm so excited to know what you're thinking.

Chapter 2 will probably be up before Christmas- at least, let's all pray it does.

Thank you all for reading, love you x

my tumblr
 Chapter 2
Chapter Notes

Hello every one !

So, I know I owe you apologies. I said I would post the second chapter before
Chrismas and I didn't. I said there would be two chapters in this fic, now there's going
to be three. I said this was going to be a happy ending and I... No, I'm kidding, I'm
kidding !

I lied a little bit yes. Maybe I've been in this fandom for too long, really. One
Direction are a bad influence on my honesty, with all the lies they try to feed us.
BUT. This is not this kind of conversation, right ?

I'm sorry. But I have a good excuse : my computer went off in December and I lost
all my files, including chapter 2, which was almost done. I only got my computer
back this month, but I was on holidays with my family, and also, let's be honest,
losing 90% of a chapter isn't the best motivation boost out there. Rewriting it took
some time, if you also count the fact that I changed almost everything in the story –
which explains why this work is now going to be three chapters long.

This one is for my baby May, who I love very much. We've known each other for a
little more than two years now, and even though we don't talk as often as we used to,
please know you'll always be in my heart.

A massive thank you to Kat, once again, for putting up with me and doing me the
favour of beta-ing my work. You're a gem! (Yes, one of the characters has her name,
but it was not intentional. Still. Sorry!)

I hope you guys enjoy this one, I spent a lot of time on it (no kidding!) and it's pretty
angsty. Don't forget to tell me in the comments or/and on tumblr what you thought of
it!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Louis googles her.

Of course he does. Harry's left a week ago, so he doesn't even feel guilty about it. Really, the only
surprise here is that he's waited so long before doing so.

Isma Kumar. 25. Fashion and make up blogger. London based. Made her acting debut with a
small role in a Netflix show and is now listed as a cast member for the next Disney animation film,
alongside big names like Jamie Foxx, Sophie Turner, and Harry Styles. Since there's no picture on
the result page, Louis clicks on a random BuzzFeed article, and his eyes go wide.

She's definitely pretty. Dark eyes, long - probably fake - eyelashes, and perfectly drawn eyebrows.
Her nose is thin, her cheekbones are highlighted, and her lips are full and covered with a very nice
nude lipstick. Her caramel colored skin is glowing and her smile is warm.

She's also wearing a bright blue scarf.

She's also wearing a bright blue scarf.

So. She's a Muslim.

Now, Louis has never been the kind of person to judge someone because of their religious beliefs.
He usually lets people be with what they believe in, as long as they leave him alone.

But right now, looking at that girl, he can't help but feel some kind of uneasiness settle in his chest.

Why would Harry want to date a Muslim girl? Isn't Islam kind of against everything that isn't
heterosexual? Also, from what he's heard, it's a really misogynistic religion, and looking at the
way that girl is covered head to toe, he has trouble believing she meets the standards of outspoken
feminist Harry Styles.

He bites his lip, confused, clicking on one of the video linked in the article, entitled
"STORYTIME: WHY I STARTED WEARING THE HIJAB"

The video's intro is nothing out of the ordinary, just the girl saying hi with her cat in her arms. She
has a cat, Louis thinks bitterly, great. No wonder why Harry's fell for her now.

Her voice is clear, a bit low, and she sports a heavy accent. Louis lifts his eyebrows, listening
carefully at what she says about starting to wear the hijab when she was 16- dear lord, 16 years
old!- and how it's always been completely her choice.

Yeah, right, Louis internally groans. They all say that.

"You know, I get it. It's kind of odd for non-Muslims to understand why someone would want to
cover up like that, hide themselves, or whatever. But the thing is, we're not asking for you to
understand. We just need you to let us be," the girls says, tone calm yet steady, staring right
through the screen.

"Because honestly, you guys are all about 'freeing women' and shit, but you're the ones forcing us
to feel guilty about a choice we made ourselves."

Louis doesn't move. He might blink, but that's all he does, as the girl glares at him and basically
calls him out on the thoughts he had minutes ago.

"My mother doesn't wear the hijab, nor do my two sisters. My own family literally doesn't care
about me wearing a piece of cloth on my head, so why should you? That's my choice. If a day
comes when I'll want to take it off then maybe I will, but never will you see me do it for all of
your intolerant arses."

Louis finds himself smiling at that. She kind of has a point here. And she seems to be telling the
truth, so he swallows and thinks, yeah, maybe you've been a bit a dick about this.

So he starts watching some of her other videos. He doesn't actually watch them all the way to the
end, as most of them are about her going shopping or trying expensive stuff for promo, but he
does click on most of them and even finds himself enjoying some parts of her nail art videos.

It's almost 6 pm when his phone starts ringing, Liam's name flashing on the screen. Louis closes
his laptop baldly, as if he's been caught in the act, as swears under his breath. He takes up his
phone and answers the call, hands slightly shaking.

"Hey, babe, what's up?" he asks, trying to make his voice sound normal.
"All good, all good," Liam says, "Sandy loved the movie. We were thinking of taking burgers on
our way home, what do you want?"

Louis's heart melts at that, and he smiles, biting his lip.

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

"What? Taking care of you and your daughter?" Liam teases back. "Absolutely. Although my
favorite part might be the burgers I can get out of it."

They both laugh and Louis lies back on the bed, smiling widely. "I want a cheeseburger. And
French fries. Please."

"Alright, sir. See you in a bit."

Louis hangs up and stares at the ceiling. He's still smiling, but it starts to fade really quickly, as he
feels the press of his hot computer against his leg, and remembers what he's been doing.

He hasn't told Liam about the thing that happened with Harry. He hasn't told him about how
easily it had been for him to just go pliant in Harry's arms, to let him do those things he'd been
craving for months, how easy it had been for him to contemplate forgiving everything and get
back together with Harry, to leave Liam without a second thought.

God, Louis feels so terrible. He can't believe he almost did that. When he thinks back about that
night, it's like he's seeing himself sucking Harry off and making equally stupid decision and he
can't do anything but watch and cringe at himself.

But it doesn't matter anyway, Louis thinks, throat tightening, since it clearly didn't to Harry.

Harry's always reacted impulsively, so really, him throwing himself at Louis because of one split
second of irrational jealousy isn't a big surprise. Louis really should have thought about it though,
before he let Harry literally come on him. Because, okay, maybe Harry is impulsive, but Louis
normally isn't.

He has to stop thinking about it though. And he's done a pretty good job of it this entire week,
hanging out in the studio, going on indoors dates with Liam and spending quality time with his
marvelous daughter.

Today however, is Sunday, and Liam's wanted to take Sandy out to the cinema, so he is all alone
at home and there is nothing to distract him from the hole in his heart. Hence the googling-your-
ex's-girlfriend enterprise.

He glances again at the computer, his frown never leaving his face. The worst part of it all is that
this girl seems decent. Yeah, she is a Muslim, and maybe Louis still needs some time to process
this part, but. She seems nice.

Nice enough for Harry to want to hug her. To kiss her. To fuck her. Maybe even marry her.
Maybe they'll all move in together with Sandy once the divorce is settled, maybe Sandy will be so
happy to finally have a mum, a wonderful, pretty, woke, and kind mum that she'll forget all about
her depressed other dad, who couldn't even protect their family and drowned his inspiration block
in expensive alcohol.
Jesus Christ.

He needs to get a fucking grip.

"You know this isn't going to work out, Louis."

No, he really doesn't.

It's just. If he can handle losing Harry, the literal love of his life, losing his daughter is definitely
not an option. He won't survive seeing her taking comfort in a woman after all they've been
through.

He remembers when he and Harry announced that they were getting married. They already had,
of course, but Harry's team had said that the public would take it better if they just announced an
engagement.

Louis doesn't even want to think about how they would've reacted if they'd told the truth.

For weeks, months, even, he's received hundreds of death threats per days. Prank calls, awful
letters and poisoned gifts- like actual poison, he remembers that damn perfume too well- directly
sent to his house.

He remembers the articles too. The headlines.

"Don't cry ladies, Harry' Styles is still half straight" had probably been the worst.

But they'd been through it. Pretty brilliantly, if you ask him. And after a while, people stopped
talking, and they could start planning the wedding without people getting in the way. Of course,
certain fans would still keep up with the hate, hell, some still do today, but it was bearable.

Harry still had to play the "half straight" part though, as his team advised him to, but it wasn't
really a problem to them. Louis knew Harry loved him, and Harry really did.

They were pretty good until tey decided to adopt, a few years later. They knew they were young,
only in their mid-twenties, but both of them also knew that they didn't want anything else than a
family, so this time, they ignored Harry's team and adopted a little girl, a two-year-old angel
named Sandy, with wonderful dark curls and bright green eyes.

It all went downhill from there.

As much as Louis loves his daughter, he knows they shouldn't have done it. At least, not the way
they did. They brought the media's attention to small, innocent girl, they exposed her to fandom
hate, all of this because Louis was tired of being treated like Harry's dirty secret that should stay in
the shadow for the sake of Harry's career.

God, he doesn't think he'll ever act as dumb as he did at the time.

It lasted three years. For three years, they tried to handle it all, tried to handle the more and more
intrusive interviews, the increasing hate letters, the comments from Harry's team, from both his
and Harry's family, the pity glances thrown at them from their friends when they would go at
some industry parties and every one would see that they were not handling it so well anymore.

He remembers all the fights they had about it. They had only agreed on stuff when it came to
Sandy, but at some point, even that became a source of argument between them.

Every time Harry would come home with a new film contract, with a plane ticket for New
Zealand or California; everytime Louis had wanted him to hang out with them but he was not
fucking here, instead posing with his celeb friends in their Instagram stories; all those times, Louis'
heart had broken a little more.

They tried to make it work for three years. For Sandy's sake.

But then, the thing happened. The last straw that broke the camel's back.

"He called be right before you got here, Louis. I'm sorry, he said he won't be there."

"He doesn't love you anymore."

"You're suffocating him, with your neediness? He doesn't like it one bit, but he's too afraid to tell
you."

"He can't be around you knowing things could be easier somewhere else."

"I'm so sorry, Louis. Those words aren't mine, they're his."

She'd broken him that day.

Harry's let her.

He's crying, now. Hot tears are making their way down his cheeks, probably leaving salty stains
on their way because of how heavy with pain they are.

The sound of the front door slamming close startles him and he instantly sits up, wiping his moist
cheeks in panic, his heart pounding in his ears.

"Lou?"

"Papa! We bought burgers and ice cream!"

"'M coming! Just a sec, sweetheart," he shouts, stumbling up and starting to change into a shirt
that's not wet with sweat and tears. He goes to the bathroom and washes his face, messing a little
with his hair, and checks himself in the mirror one last time before joining Liam and Sandy in the
kitchen.

They're both sitting at the kitchen table, Liam smiling broadly as Sandy stuffs her face with a huge
burger, smearing ketchup all over her cheeks and chin.

"Wow, easy there, little monster," Louis teases, placing a kiss on her forehead. "Did you guys
have fun?"

"Mm-hm," Sandy lets out as Louis takes a sit next to Liam, squeezing his thigh under the table.

"We went to see a superhero movie, it was nice! I want to build super suits when I grow up, I
want one like the Hulk's!" Louis' eyebrows shoot up and he glances at Liam, who just smiles and
shrugs apologetically.
"Well, if that's what you want, honey, I guess that's my duty to give it to you," he answers
solemnly, putting a chip in his mouth and chewing gravely. "Don't know where I'm supposed to
find that one though, pretty sure that's not even a suit."

"I don't want you to find anything, silly," Sandy laughs, acknowledging him with a
condescending roll of eyes. "I'll just need your money so I can have all the electronic machines to
build one!"

Louis is kind of speechless as he stares as his daughter, who's not even paying him any more
attention, going on about how her Hulk suit is going to be a darker shade of green cause honestly,
this one looks just like someone went sick all over him, Papa, it's horrendous.

Liam, next to him, is losing it. Louis gapes at Sandy, then at Liam, looking probably as
overwhelmed as he is. Liam leans in, his mouth tickling his ear as he speaks.

"This is like looking at a miniature you, I'm not kidding, I swear, it was even better during the
movie," he giggles blissfully.

Louis laughs at that and pushes Liam playfully before linking their hands under the table.

He's not fully happy yet, and that last round with Harry made sure of that, but he wants to be, and
right now, watching Sandy make a mess of her burger and feeling Liam's strong yet soft grip on
his hand, he feels like maybe happiness is not too far.

Paris is grey and rainy and humid and fucking sad when they arrive. Stan comes to pick them up
at the airport, and Louis has to stand there like an idiot with three bags at his feet and two in his
hands because of the dramatic scene Sandy throws on them, jumping in Stan's arms and not
wanting to stop hugging him because she missed him too much.

Okay, that's cute. But those bags are also fucking heavy.

Maybe he's spoiling his daughter a little too much, he thinks as he walks behind them to the car,
pushing the luggage cart, Sandy still in Stan's arms, making it her job to braid as many strands of
his long hair as she can.

The bright expression Stan wears kind of sends his complaints away, happy to see that his
daughter has that effect on people. She's really Harry's daughter when it comes to her people
skills.

Liam hasn't been able to come. He has several meetings planned with Zayn Malik these next two
weeks because his album is coming out in the end of November and Liam wrote on most of the
songs.

It's better that way, Louis thinks while he's in the car, on their way to the hotel Harry has booked
for them. He doesn't think he could've handled being in the presence of Liam while pretending to
be married and happy and in love with Harry for the sake of cameras.

Sandy falls asleep on his lap and when they park in front of the hotel, he has to carry her in his
arms to prevent her from waking up. It was only her second time on a plane, he can understand
how tired she must feel.
Harry is waiting for them in the room. He's sitting on the bed, back against the headboard, bare
feet crossed in front of him. He's on the phone when Louis gets inside the spacious room,
followed very closely by Stan with their bags.

He barely lifts his eyes to meet Louis', and gives him a stiff nod.

"Look I'll call you later, it's no big deal, really. I can work on that last part on the plane when I get
home, and then we'll see. Okay? ... Yep that's great, yeah. Bye."

He smile and waves as if the person he's on the phone with can see him, and it's something Louis
had kind of forgotten about him. He swallows and stays there, in the middle of room, as Harry
hangs up and gets up from the bed.

"She's asleep?" Harry asks quietly, coming close in seconds, taking Louis by surprise. He's right
here, hovering above him, his giant hand coming to rest on Sandy's back.

Louis nods without anything more than a quiet hum. He wasn't expecting to feel Harry this close
so soon. Harry's green eyes stay focused on their daughter's face, a soft smile on his lips.

"May I hold her?" Harry asks with a fake smile, voice strained and jaw contracted. Louis almost
rolls his eyes, already annoyed with Harry's mannerism and awkward attitude.

" 'f course," he just says, handing him Sandy carefully.

Harry takes her reverently and without a sound, he starts pacing in the room, gently petting her
hair. Louis notices that he occasionally closes his eyes, inhaling her hair deeply. He sighs and
takes off his jacket, looking around to familiarize himself with the place.

"So this is your room," Harry says quietly after a while, when Louis has changed into more
comfortable clothes in the bathroom. "Her room is right next to yours, there's a door next to your
bed that gives access to it. Mine is on the other side of hers."

Louis doesn't say anything back, he just follows Harry as he walks himself and Sandy to the door
he's talking about. He opens it and they step inside his daughter's room, pretty similar to his except
for the fact that one corner of the room is decorated with at least ten shelves of books and
magazines.

Louis' eyes go wide at that, and he turns to Harry as he places Sandy on the bed, taking off her
jacket and shoes.

"She's gonna lose her shit when she sees that," he comments, pointing at the books.

Harry chuckles and nods. He unties her hair and pulls the cover on her small body before turning
towards Louis.

His smile turns uneasy and they can only hold each other's stare for a couple of seconds before
both of them turn their head to the ground.

"Um," is all Harry manages to say after a while, and Louis thinks that maybe he's the one who's
about to turn crazy. "Do you want to go down to have a drink? I need to talk to you about some
stuff," Harry mutters, voice barely audible even in the quiet of the room.

Louis freezes and bites the inside of his cheek, taken aback. What the hell is that, now?
"About what?" He sounds angry to his own ears, and frankly, he feels like he has every right to.
Harry sighs and goes to the door, passing him without a look.

"We're not doing this here, she's asleep. C'mon, let's go to the bar."

And since he's already leaving the room, Louis has no choice but to follow.

Harry only takes a glass of water. Louis, of course, as the mess he is, orders a glass of wine,
empties it, then orders another one.

He instantly feels irritated by the judgmental look Harry gives him, so he flips him off and downs
his second drink.

"What do you want, then?" he asks bitterly.

"So the premiere is going to be tomorrow night. We're supposed to be on the red carpet around
eight, you, me, and Sandy," Harry explains with a sigh. "Jason called some paps to take a few
pictures of us leaving the hotel as well. And we'll have to sit together during the movie, but I guess
that's obvious."

Of course that's what Harry's wanted to go over. That's literally all he cares about. Louis doesn't
even know why he feels disappointed when really, he should've expected it.

"Alright", he shrugs, downing his drink, trying his best to keep a straight, unbothered face.
"Anything else?"

Harry makes a face, and lifts his hand to ask the bartender for the bottle of wine. He doesn't say
anything for a moment, just fills his and Louis' glass and takes a sip, carefully avoiding his eyes.

"We have to hang out a bit at the Disney Park with Sandy, take a few pictures with the fans. Only
for a couple of days, really. Just so they can see us being happy and in love and having a family
vacation, all that. Then you're free to do whatever you want for the rest of your stay."

Louis doesn't say anything at that. He stares at the bottles of alcohol lined up behind the counter,
trying to process the information.

Usually, when they do that, it's nothing. They just have to show up at the same time at an event,
take a few picture with random fans, and after a few hours, it's done. He goes back to his life, and
Harry to his, and Sandy is very rarely part of the plan, except for movie premieres and award
shows - which only last a handful of hours.

Not literal days. He doesn't know how he's supposed to tell Harry that he's not ready for that yet,
not ready to have him around all day long and pretend to be happy with him during most of it.

He simply doesn't know how to do it for so long anymore.

"Look, I know it's not..." Harry begins, cutting himself off with a heavy sigh. "I know you don't
like doing that. Believe me, I don't either. And I hate having to bring Sandy into this. But..."

"But what?" Louis sneers. "That's all you've been doing for a year, Harry. So, fucking stop
already with your 'I don't want this' bullshit."

Harry gasps and opens his mouth to strike back, probably some half-arsed explanation or excuse,
but Louis doesn't let him.

"You know what, the reason we're doing this in the first place is for you," he continues, venom in
each and every of his words. His voice is calm and cold, but he's really fucking angry, and he
hopes Harry can feel it.

"Your image, your career, your fans, we're doing this so that entire fancy little world of yours
doesn't ruin Sandy's. And now, you're telling me that she's going to be spending days at
Disneyland, with both her dads acting like actual parents with her, and I have to be okay with it?"

"Louis, it's not going to be like that..." Harry tries again, but Louis can tell that he himself doesn't
believe in what he was about to say.

"Can you even hear yourself sometimes, Harry? Like, when you speak? What are you going to
put into her head, with that, uh? That Papa and Dad and happy? That we're good, we're a family,
things are going to be better now? Jesus, Harry!"

He's happy the hotel restaurant is empty, because he's been raising his voice without noticing. He
glances at his glass of wine and pushes it away, turning towards Harry with a death glare.

"Look, Louis, the fans are asking questions, okay? People saw Sandy and Liam at the movies,
and others are starting to notice things between me and Isma. We really don't need a cheating
scandal on us right now, so please, try to understand."

"A cheat- Really, Harry, really?" Louis scoffs, turning away. "Don't you have some pretty
contract with The Sun or something, to publish an article about how in love we are? Ask Dan
Wootton, he's always loved writing fan fiction."

"I'm serious Louis. I just..." Harry urges, "I wish things were different. And I may sound
ridiculous, but we'd actually be protecting her if do that. I-I really don't know what to say to
convince you..."

Louis laughs bitterly at that. "Yeah, I love it when you act like I have a say in this anyway."

Harry frowns.

"But you have. If you don't want to do it, I really can't make you, Louis. We can just say you're
sick, and I'll go alone with Sandy, or we can say she's sick, and you stayed at the hotel with her,
it's not..."

"You're literally..." Louis drones, waving his hands in front of his in annoyance. "I'm not talking
about this. It's not just that. I'm mad about the whole thing, Harry."

Harry stays silent, and Louis goes quiet as well, realizing how actually tired he is.

"Harry, I can't keep doing this. For Sandy, first of all, because even if this keeps her from fandom
hate and annoying tabloids, it doesn't keep her from us tearing each other apart. She's going to be
in the middle of a massive mess when all of this is over, God knows how this is going to affect her
growing up... But also for me," he adds, swallowing loudly, throat tightening at the thought of
where he's leading the conversation.
"What happened the other night, Harry, that... that can't happen again."

"Of course, Louis, I told you that in the note, have you even read it?" Harry immediately presses,
nodding his head with panic, and Louis feels his entire body shatter into pieces.

"That's not... Harry, not like that. Not the sex. I mean, I guess that can't happen anymore as well,
but. It's just– just the way things happened! You hurt me. Ever since Katherine, all you've ever
done is hurt me," he blurts out, and he feels Harry freeze next to him. "I know having sex with me
again didn't mean anything to you, but I need you to know that it's not something that can happen
again because it hurt me. It opened wounds I wish had stayed closed, and I need to protect myself.
And doing all of this, it hurts me Harry, so I need to protect myself and my sanity and stop."

He can see Harry opening and closing his mouth in the corner of his eyes, but he doesn't dare to
turn his head and look at him.

Louis's never talked to him so bluntly since the break up, he realizes. It's always been lies and
pretends and fights that lead to nowhere but resentment and more anger, but now that this is out,
he feels... better. He didn't expect any of this to come out tonight, not in Paris out of all places, at a
hotel bar neither of them are familiar with, but.

He feels better.

"Listen. I'll do it this time, okay? One last time. But then... I know we said we'd wait for your
contract with Simon to end, but I'd like us to go public with the break up, after you're done with
promo season. And then we'll get the divorce papers. Alright?"

There's a moment of silence, where none of them say anything, and Louis almost starts to think
that Harry's not even breathing.

"Yeah," Harry finally stuttered. "Yeah okay. I'll talk to Jason, we'll figure something out. Uh."

Louis doesn't expect the massive weight that's been stifling him since they had sex two weeks ago
to leave the way it does, and the first intake of breath he has almost makes him hover over the
chair he's sitting on.

"You'd... you'd do that?" he asks timidly, a bit incredulously, trying to meet Harry's gaze.

" If... If that's what you want, then. Then I'm. Look, I just want you and Sandy to be happy. I
don't want to make you stay with me. And you're right, about it being a fucked up situation with
Sandy. I should've... I shouldn't have let it happen in the first
place. I'm sorry."

Louis gapes at him, completely in awe of those last words.

I'm sorry.
He's pretty sure it's the first time either of them is saying these words out loud since they broke up.
He kind of wants to cry, now.

Then Harry smiles, tentatively. He takes Louis' hand with just as much hesitancy, and squeezes it
lightly.

His skin is soft, and smooth. Warm. Louis' hand looks so small in his, and Louis notices with
surprise that he has holographic nail polish on. He brings his stare to Harry's eyes, to his bright
green eyes, his strong jaw, pink lips and short curls pushed back
with a peach headband.

Louis squeezes back.

He's doing a FaceTime with Liam when a knock comes, much later on. It takes him a minute to
understand it is from the door right next to his bed, the one leading to Sandy's room. He quickly
ends the call with Liam, and stumbles up to go open it.

"Hello, princess," he murmurs, immediately taking her in his arms when he sees her sleepy eyes
and messy hair. "Why aren't you asleep? You hungry?"

Sandy buries her head in his neck and hums a quiet 'no', wrapping herself around him. "Can you
come sleep with me, Papa..." she mumbles. "I had a bad dream."

"Oh, my love, it's okay. I'm here, I'm going to stay with you," Louis says calmly, caressing her
hair and kissing her forehead. "Wanna tell me about it?" he asks as he brings them to her bed,
lying carefully with her in his arms, covering her small body with the quilt.

"Someone snapped all of my dolls' heads," Sandy sobs, curling herself even more into her father's
arms. "They wanted to snap my head too!"

"Shh, shh, baby, I'm here. No one's gonna snap your head, don't worry. I won't let anyone hurt
you."

Sandy hums in agreement, and hugs him tighter, shutting her eyes, mouth closing around her
thumb. Normally, Louis would tell her to take it out, because she is a big girl now, but this time,
he lets it slide.

He looks at her, her pale skin and rosy cheeks. He gazes at her long eyelashes and messy curly
hair, and he imagines her bright green eyes under her closed fluttering eyelids. She's the most
beautiful girl he's ever seen.

Louis thinks about the first time Sandy called him Papa.

Him and Harry had decided to let her call them both by their names at first, so it would be easier
for her to adjust to a new life with people she wasn't used to. But only a few months in, while
Louis was combing her hair, humming softly one of Harry's unreleased songs, a massive
cockroach had come out of under her nightstand and she had jumped off of her chair and crawled
into his arms, screaming, “Papa! Out, out, Papa, out!”

He had immediately obliged and once they'd gotten out of the room, she had hugged the life out of
him. “'re the best Papa in the universe,” she had said, her face buried in his neck.

He had cried so much that night, when Harry had come home. Tears of joy, they were, when he
had whispered to his husband, “We're parents, H. We are her dads,” careful not to wake their
baby girl who was asleep in her tiny bed.

Louis glances down at her again, a soft smile flying over his lips. His hand comes up to her face
and he gently strokes her face.
"Sleep, Sandy, Papa's here. Papa's here."

He wakes up early the next day. Sandy is asleep next to him, still sucking her thumb, and Louis
sighs with a smile before taking it out carefully. She suckles onto nothing for a second before
going still again, and Louis kisses her forehead lovingly before getting off the bed.

Louis groans as the streches himself, hearing the muscles in his back crack with the movement. He
goes to the door leading to his own room when he hears something coming from Harry's.

Something that sounds weirdly like a sewing machine.

Louis stops in his track, frowning deeply. Why in the world would Harry be sewing at this hour?
It's not even six, for heaven's sake!

Without further thoughts, Louis turns back his heels and heads towards Harry's door rapidly. He
opens it.

And then. Well.

Louis doesn't think there's a word for what he feels like in that instant. Maybe jello-crappy-ish. He
should insert that word into a song soon, he thinks, and maybe trademark it.

Because the first thing he does when entering, is meeting a pair of wide opened eyes. But not the
ones he was expecting to. No, those eyes are brown, doe-like, with long and dark eyelashes.

“Uh.”

Fuck, Louis thinks. The thing-- the person, the person talks. Yes. Because there is someone in
Harry's room. Someone he's never met, sitting on a small table in the corner of the room, an actual
sewing machine in front of them, working on some kind of navy blue fabric.

They gape at each other for an second, just a split second, before Louis turns red and starts
stuttering.

“Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I thought ... I'm really sorry,” he rambles some more, and as if he
couldn't be more awkward, he takes a step forward instead of one backward, causing the girl to
stand up from her chair and taking a step back. “No, no, no, don't move, I'm sorry, I'll go!”

“No,” the girl whisper-shouts, almost as panicked as him. Her hair is covered with a light mint
veil, and she's wearing a matching nightgown that she closes before hesitantly stepping closer to
where Louis stands.

“No?” he repeats incredulously.

The girl steps even closer, and Louis is staring so hard it kind of takes him a while to realize she's
smiling at him. “You're Louis, right?”

Louis swallows, and nods. The thing is, he knows. He knows what's coming next. What the
conversation is leading to. He knows exactly what her next words will be.
Doesn't make it easier to hear, though.

“I'm Isma Kumar? I've worked on the movie with Harry?” she says very softly. She looks
uncertain, Louis can tell. It's obvious she's feeling as awkward as he does.

“Are you asking me?” he answers with an uneasy chuckle, unsure of how to proceed. Isma laughs
at his poor attempt at humour and she adjusts her gown around her waist.

“No, I guess not. Um.. Do you want to, have a seat, maybe?” she offers, gesturing to one of the
chairs at the table she's been previously sitting on. “I was just helping myself on Harry's machine,
my outfit for tonight had a tear and I don't trust anyone else with it, so.”

Right. Harry's machine. Because they're in Harry's room. That Isma casually entered as if it was
hers. Because she's doing Harry.

“You can sit, really, I actually. Uh, I wanted to speak with you for a bit.” Louis' eyes snap back at
her and his frown deepens. He could use need a drink. “Don't worry,” she adds, sitting herself
again, “it won't wake him, nothing can break his beauty sleep.”

That's when Louis really realizes they're in Harry's room. With Harry's suitcase, and his boots
lined up next to the door, and his phone and headphones on the table.

With an actual, living, breathing, sleeping Harry, lying on the bed with nothing but a pair of grey
boxers.

Louis throws up in his mouth. Like, actual vomit. Just a little amount, just enough to express the
disgust he feels upon seeing this situation. He wants to scream, to wake Harry up and yell at him,
he wants to break something, Harry's phones, the fucking sewing machine for all he cares, he just
wants to destroy.

Except, that's not very Louis-like. So he does the most Louis-like thing he knows.

He swallows it all.

“Well I should know, I've slept with him for eleven years.”

Meh. Maybe not all of it, after all.

Isma makes a face, but doesn't seem offended. “I guess I deserved that one.”

“Yeah,” Louis confirms, pulling a chair to sit next to her.

Isma picks up her piece of fabric and start pinning stuff on it, eyes focused as if she were trying to
think of how to say what she wanted to. When she finally speaks, she looks nervous, even though
she sounds like she's reading a speech.

“I know things are complicated between you and Harry. I don't know exactly what happened
between you two, I don't really care to either. I just want to be happy, and at the moment, Harry
makes me happy.”

Louis nods. He doesn't really know if he's supposed to interrupt her, or approve, and maybe
argue, so he nods, waiting for her to tell him otherwise if necessary. And he listens.
“I need you to know, though, that I'm not here to steal your family. I may like Harry, and I enjoy
Sandy's company so much, but never will I try to replace you or be her mother.”

Louis nods again. There's a knot in his throat, and when he swallows, he can taste the bitterness of
the vomit he threw up a few minutes ago.

“I-- my father remarried after my parents got divorced and my step-mother tried to replace my
mum really hard. I keep a horrifying memory of that, and I don't want Sandy, nor you, to have to
live that.”

She doesn't say anything after that. She simply takes a deep breath and keeps pinning her fabric,
hands slightly twitching.

“Thank you,” is what Louis answers. “It means a lot. I... I care a lot about Harry, I want to see
him happy and if you're the one providing that happiness, I'm okay with that.”

“Great,” Isma says, lips tight.

“Amazing.”

The silence stretches a little longer after that. Isma continues to sew, but Louis knows better than
leave. He knows the conversation is not over.

“With that being said,” Isma declares, confirming his thoughts, “Harry and I are more or less
dating now. I'm talking exclusivity here. So it's important to me that you realize you can't sleep
with him anymore.”

Louis sighs. To be honest, he saw it coming the minute she asked to talked to him. He lifts in
hands in front of him with a reassuring smile.

“Don't worry, that was a one time thing. We're not in love anymore, he has you and I have
someone myself, with whom I hope to get steady soon. So, no worries about that.”

It's Isma's turn to nod now. She seems convinced enough, especially with the part about Louis
having someone else to fuck, so Louis counts it as a win.

They stare at each other for a while, and Louis, as hurt as he is, can't bring himself to hate her. He
can see it in her eyes. She's in love. He can't blame her for the way she just talked to him.

Harry does that to a person. And it even gets greater when you know he feels the same about you.
He's sure Isma will be alright very soon.

So Louis, being Louis, gives her a shrug, and he says with a fake sigh, “I can't believe you just
went 'if you fuck with my man, I'll burn your house down' on your boyfriend's husband.”

There's a pause.

Isma erupts into uncontrollable laughter, and Louis follows.

And maybe Louis cries because he's laughing too hard, maybe because he's tired after sleeping in
Sandy's tiny bed. Maybe he's just heartbroken.

No one will ever know, and certainly not him.

Chapter End Notes

And that's it for chapter 2! How are you feeling, people? I'm dying to know what you
thought of this, please let me know in the comments!

I will try by best to post the last chapter during February, but if I don't, I doubt I will
in March, since I will be in Paris for two weeks then (to see Harry!!) Let's all pray I'll
write until then!

Loads of love <3

my tumblr
 Chapter 3
Chapter Notes

WARNING FOR: alcoholism, depression/anxiety, panic attacks - and see sex tags
for the rest !

Thank you everyone for your patience, I love you.

This chapter is for the last person I told about this fic, Agathe (et ça aurait pu être
pour tout le larriesquad aussi si elles étaient pas foutues de lire de l'anglais de temps
en temps)

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The premiere happens in the blink of an eye. Louis barely talks to Harry during the whole thing,
simply smiles and holds Sandy's hand, and he leans in when Harry gestures him to come close so
he can fake-whisper something in his ear. Everything is automatic, he doesn't really think about it
when he does any of it, too accustomed to these stunts to feel out of place.

The movie itself is nice. It's really funny at times and at some point, Louis turns his head to see
Sandy laughing to the point of tears with Harry. For a moment, he pretends he doesn't know all of
this is fake, and enjoys those seconds of what feels like family time.

He meets Isma's eyes, just once, but they're not filled with what he expects them to be. To be
honest, he would have thought she would watch every single one of his moves and glare at him
the whole time, with him getting all gooey with her boyfriend and all that.

But Isma seems calm. Lost in her thoughts. She keeps on glancing at their hands- Harry's hand on
Louis' waist, Louis' hand intertwined in Harry's, both their hands stroking idly Sandy's hair while
talking to an interviewer. She doesn't seem mad, or uncomfortable. Just thoughtful.

Once they all arrive at the hotel, Louis insist on taking Sandy to bed, and Harry thanks him stiffly
before climbing up the marble stairs quickly.
Sandy's asleep now. She's closed her eyes a few minutes ago, while Louis was singing to her a
song he and Liam have written for Anne-Marie's last album.

Louis stands up after kissing her one last time but instead of going to his room, he lingers there for
a moment, gazing at Harry's door distractedly. He can't hear anything right now. No whispers, no
laughing, certainly no fucking sewing machine.

Louis knows he shouldn't go. Isma could be in there with Harry, he thinks, walking slowly
towards the door. What is he going to say to them, if she's the one opening the door? What if she
doesn't open it, what if Harry does, and once Louis steps in, he finds her on the bed, half naked, or
worse- wearing one of Harry's shirts?

Louis brushes all of these questions away. He knocks.

“...Sandy, baby, is that you?” Harry's voice answers, so quiet it seems like he's been woken up by
the knock. Louis only feels partly sorry.
“It's me,” he says back, just as lowly. He looks down as Harry opens the door, and his eyes catch
on his thumb and he only has the time to notice a cuticle threatening to rip his nail off before the
door comes open.

“Louis? Is everything alright?” Harry asks, confusion and tiredness being the only tones that could
be detected in his voice.

And suddenly, Louis realizes that he doesn't really know why he's here. He doesn't know. He just
wanted Harry, but now that Harry's in front of him, he feels empty, because he can't have him.

He wants Harry and Harry's not his any more. Harry's in love with somebody else. A prettier,
funnier, smarter, kinder person than Louis will ever be, someone who knows what Harry's life is
about, who knows about the feeling of being loved by millions of people that don't really know
you. Someone who loves him back a way Louis never could.

“Do you want- is it okay if- can we go to the bar please?” he starts sputtering.

Harry doesn't answer right away, and Louis is too afraid to see the look in his eyes to meet them,
so he settles with taking a clumsy step back, pulling hard on the cuticle and even harder on the dry
skin of his lips.

“Louis? What the hell,” Harry steps forward, still speaking quietly, but this time, his tone is filled
with worry, “what's going on?”

He sits Louis on his own bed, and oh. They're in Harry's room now. Louis hadn't even noticed it.
He can only feel his hands trembling and a metallic taste in his mouth, and something liquid on his
fingers, and. Fuck.

His thumb has started bleeding. Harry's holding a big tissue on it, swearing under his breath. Louis
can't really hear what he's saying, so he squints his eyes and tries to focus on something else than
the urge to run to the minibar and down a shot of tequila.

“Baby, look at me. Stop- listen to me. I'm here, I'm right here.”

Louis is pretty sure that's Harry speaking. The warmth of his breath is somewhat soothing against
the shell of his ear, but he's still confused, and his tongue feels so heavy in his mouth so he can't
really tell Harry about all that right now. Well, he's not sure what he wants to tell him, but-

“Fuck, Louis, stop saying that!” Harry shouts.

His hands tighten on Louis' thumb, and suddenly it hurts like hell, so Louis jolts back and swears,
holding his hand against his chest.

And it's like, with the pain, Louis comes back to all of his senses and he can see again, see Harry
staring at him with his mouth wide open, worry clear in his eyes; he can smell the odor of
champagne coming from the glass on Harry's tiny nightstand, and he can hear. He can hear a
voice, muttering over and over again I need a drink, like a mantra.

His own voice.

He passes out.

--

Louis wakes up with the taste of flour in his mouth. He wants to open his eyes, but he doesn't try,
knowing he won’t be able to with how his lashes are probably glued together. He doesn't
recognize the smell he's surrounded by, a vague scent of aspirin and menthol, and the smoothness
of the sheets he's lying on is just as unfamiliar.

He lies like that for about ten more minutes, keeping his eyes closed but trying to wake his limbs
one by one, wiggling his toes and cracking his fingers.

“You're awake.”

Louis sits up immediately, eyes darted out in what might be half terror as well as half surprise. His
eyes rapidly scan the room and land on Harry, sitting on a chair, shirtless and barefoot.

They're in Harry's hotel room, Louis now recognizes, and the dim light coming from the windows
indicate that it's either very early in the morning, or very late in the afternoon.

Harry's leg is moving frantically. His eyes, bloodshot, are piercing holes in Louis' skull.

“What happened?” Louis asks, and his voice is so wrecked it's barely audible to his own ears.

A shiver goes down his arms and when he looks down, he's confused to see that he's only
wearing a pair of boxers that aren't his.

“Why am I naked?”

Harry's glare doesn't go away, and when he speaks, the harsh tone of his voice makes Louis'
throat go drier than it already is.

“You puked all over yourself last night. Three times. And your clothes had blood on them too,” he
adds with a brief nod to Louis' hand.

Louis looks down at his thumb and sees a small band aid around it. It's not bleeding anymore.

He doesn't know what to say. He's naked in his soon to be ex-husband's bed, feeling completely
out of it, not remembering how he got here in the first place, so he doesn't have a fucking clue of
what to say.

He looks around again and when his eyes find a glass of champagne on the nightstand, he
instinctively reaches for it.

“Don't you. Fucking. Dare.”

Harry's voice is ice cold. Louis freezes on the spot.

He looks up to meet Harry's eyes, and immediately regrets it. If he thought Harry's voice was cold,
his eyes are ten times colder.

Louis doesn't like it when Harry's angry at him. He doesn't mind the yelling, he doesn't mind
having arguments. But he hates it when Harry gets like this: still, silent, just angry. So he does
what he does best.

He gets angrier.

“You undressed me while I was unconscious and you're staring at me like a creep when I'm
asleep, excuse me if I need a drink to down that.”

Harry lets out a sharp laugh, nothing but humorous, and he stands, reaching the bed in two strides.
Louis only has the time to gasp before Harry pushes him back against the pillows and straddles
him, pinning him down.
him, pinning him down.

It's not sexual. It's not, even for Louis who usually loves to be pinned down like that.

No, right now, it feels everything but sexual. It's anger, mixed but worry, and sadness, and a
certain kind of desperation that Louis has never seen in Harry's eyes before.
He never wants to see it again.

“You don't get to be mad, Louis. You have no right- you're the absolute worst,” Harry hisses
angrily, rage so strong the veins of his neck start to show. “I hate you so much. I hate you so
fucking much, God,” and he doesn't finish his sentence before diving in and crashing his lips to
Louis'.

Louis doesn't kiss him back. He just lies here, stunned, and hurt, and confused as hell, and he lets
Harry lash onto his mouth, his jaw, his neck, then his mouth again, until he feels something hot
and wet on his face, and fuck.

Harry is crying.

Harry's mouth is still on his, except Harry's not kissing him anymore; he's just full on sobbing
against Louis' lips, muttering things Louis can't make out but desperately wants to hear.

“Harry- H,” he tries at some point, nipping at Harry's bottom lip, and that seems to break Harry
out of his trance because he jolts away instantly.

“I'm- Sorry, sorry,” he mumbles, voice hoarse, as he backs away from Louis' face. He wipes his
mouth, eyes red and cheeks wet, but doesn't move from Louis' lap.

They stare at each other for a moment, Harry's gaze going from Louis' eyes to his lips more often
than not, a few tears still spilling from his left eye.

“We should. We should probably talk.”

Louis swallows. “About what?” he whispers.

Harry shrugs.

“I think your drinking problem would be a good start.”

And just like that, Harry sends Louis' world into pieces.

“What are you talking about? I don't have a drinking problem.” It's just a mumble of words really,
not sounding an ounce believable to even a toddler, but Louis doesn't blink and holds Harry's
gaze.

Harry's fist immediately comes crashing next to his head on the pillow with no sound but a dry
blow.

“Don't fucking lie to me Louis.” He speaks harshly, a little bit of his spit landing on Louis' cheek.
“Fuck, I'm so done with your games. I am this close-”, he shows a small gap between his thumb
and forefinger, “-to taking Sandy away from you because of that little stunt you pulled earlier, so
you better start telling me or I'll ignore you until I find a lawyer you'll be willing to talk to.”

Louis' eyes go wide at that, and he sits up instantly, pushing Harry off him with a loud what the
actual fuck.

“You can't just take her from me! I'm her bloody father,” he shouts, kneeling on the bed and
forcing Harry to stand at the end of it, his hands on his torso.

“And a bloody alcoholic one, it seems,” Harry hisses, circling Louis' wrists and locking them onto
his chest. “I'm not letting her under your watch again unless you talk to me about whatever the
fuck is going on with you.”

“I'm not a drunk,” Louis screams urgently, his hands shaking in Harry's. “Let me go!”

“No,” Harry answers firmly, and he holds Louis' hands even tighter. “No, Louis,” he says again,
more softly, when Louis stands on the bed and starts to struggle out of his grip, “I'm not doing that
again.”

So Louis struggles some more, until the words sink in, truly sink in, and then he's crying too,
falling onto his knees and weeping against Harry's chest like a fucking child.

His ears are ringing so loud, and he's burning hot, his entire body trembling, but then there's
Harry's hand on the back on his neck, not pressing nor pulling, just resting there, grounding him.

Louis lets go.

--

They talk until Sandy wakes up and demands breakfast, so they call Stan up so he can take care of
her; then they talk some more until the sun is so high in the sky Harry has to draw the curtain
because the heat of the sun is unbearable. He orders lunch up to the bedroom and makes sure
Sandy is okay playing with one of his colleague's kid, and after that they talk again.

They're mostly questions from Harry's part -ones he has to ask several times- and answers from
Louis' -ones he tries to lie his way out of and gets angry at when he sees it's not working.

“How long has it been?” Since you left.

“Why?” Cause I'm alone.

“How often?” As soon as I feel I'm about to cry.

“Have you ever drunk when alone with Sandy?” Fuck, no, who do you take me for?

“Alright, bloody hell... What about Liam? Does he know” No. I don't feel like crying when I'm
with him.

“Who else knows, then?” Lauren noticed but she hasn't said anything, she just looks at me when I
drink.

“Why... why didn't you say anything? To me?” I didn't want you to take Sandy away. I can
control myself, it's not that big of a deal.

They talk long after that, questions that piss Louis off and answers that frustrate Harry. They talk,
until Louis tries to sneak a sip of vodka out of Harry's mini fridge when he goes to answer the
door for room service, and when Harry catches him, Louis lets the flask fall and shatter on the
floor before starting to sob uncontrollably.
Harry tucks him in bed then, while he's still crying, and he takes all the alcohol in the room and in
the fridge to the toilet to empty the bottles.

He comes back and lays in bed next to Louis for a while after that, and only gets up to put Sandy
to bed.
Louis faintly hears Stan asking if everything is okay, and Harry reassuring him, telling that it's all
fine, that Louis is just very tired.

He falls asleep a few minutes after that, a dreamless sleep that doesn't really provide him any rest,
and he wakes again to the sound of Harry's voice.

“I just wish... I never wanted to-” He sounds sad, and tired.

Is it because of me? Louis wonders. He's about to turn around to look at Harry, see why he
sounds so broken, when someone else speaks.

“-hurt me, yes I know, H.”

He freezes. It's her. What is she doing here? Why is she with him? Has he told her? About Louis
being- being a fucking pathetic drunk?

“I know you never meant to hurt anyone. That would be like, really fucked up.” She continues,
and Louis has a horrible feeling she's doing that while roaming her hand on Harry's back. That's
the 'I'm roaming my hand on your back' voice.

“But I do! I hurt people all the time,” and Harry sounds so miserable saying that Louis wants to
stop pretending to be asleep just to go over and hug him.

“You do, yeah,” Isma has the audacity to agree, and okay, fuck you, Louis thinks.

“Like, I hurt you. I slept with him while you and I were kinda involved, then I kissed him again
even though we'd just gotten exclusive, and now I'm breaking up with you after telling you I'm..
like- who does that?”

Isma lets out a small laugh, and yep. She's definitely still caressing his back.

“It's okay, H.”

“No, it's not! It's so not okay! People need to stop telling me it's okay when I fuck up, because I
believe them, and the next thing I know, the love of my life is having a nervous breakdown in my
hotel room because I made him go through hell and I thought it was okay!”

Louis feels like he's going to be sick. He's going to tell her, he thinks. Now. Harry's going to tell
her. She doesn't know, and he's going to tell her.

“About two years ago, Louis and I went to see that psychiatrist. The whole... couple shrink thing.
It was his idea at first, I didn't want to because I refused to believe we had serious problems. I
thought he was being overdramatic.”

Harry lets out a sad laugh, and the room is so silent Louis hears him scratching his stubble.

“He said I was out too much, that I spent too much time on my phone answering fans and talking
with my friends and planning tours. He said I was avoiding being a husband and a dad, and I... I
didn't want to admit it at the time, but he was right. I was so scared. I was twenty-five and already
married, I had a bloody child and I had no fucking clue what to do to make things work.”

He sighs, and Louis wants to too, but it's like he can't do anything but hold his breath.

“And I mean. I love what I do. I love acting and touring, I love my fans and I love the attention.
But I love my family more. And I refused to see that I was letting all of these things destroy my
home.”
“You were twenty-five Harry, that's so young, you're still so young-” Isma starts again, but Harry
cuts her off.

“No, no, let me.. Let me finish. No matter how young I was, how young I am, I should've known.
I should've seen. Louis was receiving threats from my fans since we went public, and I should've
done something about that. But my manager said I would lose my following and I would make
people hate us more, that I should let it go. And I did. Because I knew he was hurt but I was
selfish and I didn't want to stop doing my job, so I acted like a coward and did nothing.”

Louis' stomach hurts. He wants to drink so bad, he can't bear listening to this, he doesn't want to, it
hurts so much. But he can't move, can't speak; he can barely breathe.

“At some point he stopped coming to couple therapy. I still went, but it was just to complain to the
doctor about him. About him not understanding, not being supportive, about how the only
interaction we had any more was when I would snap and bend him over a table to fuck him.”

Louis doesn't want to hear this, but most of all, he doesn't want Isma to hear this. Christ, he doesn't
need a reminder that this fucking asshole of a shrink knows. This is private.

The way he would let Harry grab him after doing the dishes and fuck his mouth or slap his ass or
choke him a little even though they hadn't talked in days is private. It is the last memory of
intimacy Louis has of them, and Harry just can't have had told her that.

“And then one day.. One day I was at the studio, and Louis called and told me to meet him at the
psychiatrist's office. He sounded kind of eager to go, I guess, and I thought, fuck, okay, maybe
this is going somewhere. I dropped everything and went. I was so happy. But when I arrived..”
Harry's voice falters at that, and Louis thinks, good.

“I don't know why, but I got mad at him again. Like, really mad, and I thought about how the
night before he had huge fight and he said awful things to me and... I was fucking angry, and I
wanted us to work it out, but not now, not in front of the therapist. She had told me once that
maybe Louis was using her to try make me take all the blame for our problems. So I turned off my
phone and went back to our house, and I took a nap.”

He stays silent for a few minutes after that. Louis can't hear anything else, and he thinks that
maybe, finally, Harry's realized that he should shut the fuck up now. Except then, he hears a
sniffle and he understands that Harry's been crying.

When he speaks again, his voice is so heavy with guilt he might sink a hole in the ground.

“I was taking a fucking nap. I was fucking sleeping, being mad at him, while he was.. and then
she- fucking hell,” Harry sobs.

Louis hears Isma shushing him, and he can tell she's extremely confused. She has stopped
roaming her hands over his back, though.

“The.. the shrink we were seeing? Katherine? Turns out she was a fan from the beginning. Like.
The obsessive kind? And when she saw me and Louis having problems, then me coming alone to
the appointments, I don't know. She thought it would mean she had her chance with me. So as
soon as they realized I wasn't coming, she told him all the things I said about him, all the private
stuff he has insecurities about, and...”

He cuts himself off with a frustrated sigh.

“Harry,” Louis hears Isma whimper, and it sounds a lot like oh my God you fucking idiot.
Louis wants to sit and say, yep, that's how I felt too.

“Fucking hell, Harry,” Isma whisper shouts, and Louis hears a whack, probably her hitting Harry
on his shoulder or on his head. “What were you even thinking telling her about all that private
stuff while he wasn't here? It's not like you don't have friends! Niall loves you, he would've
happily listened to you!”

“God, I know I fucked up, I know it now, okay? But at the time I guess I just didn't realize, I was
too... I just wanted things to go back to normal. And they were not, everything was falling apart,
and she was right there, telling me all the things I wanted to hear, I just thought it would be
nothing. And I was a prick to think that way, I know. I don't blame him for one bit for leaving me
after that.”

“No kidding,” Isma snorts. “Fuck, Harry that's so bad. And... Oh, my God. Don't tell me-”

She cuts herself and Louis hears another smacking sound, this time followed by an indignant
noise.

“What was that for?”

“The whole... staying-married-for-pretend thing, it's the same shit, right? You putting your
reputation and your career over his and Sandy's well-being?”

Uncomfortable silence is the only response he gets.

“God Harry, you're such a prick!”

That's right, tell him, Louis thinks. Fucking end him right here, sis.

“They told me it would only make things worse, telling the world that we didn't work out! Do you
know how much shit I had to go through marrying a man while being considered the biggest
womanizer of my generation? I had to work so hard for people to accept that I was bisexual-”

“Yeah, and it's all about you, once again,” Isma yells, but this time Harry doesn't tell her to lower
her voice. “For fuck's sake, Harry! Haven't you learned anything from all this? I'm not saying you
didn't suffer, I wouldn't dare, I'm not even out yet okay? But feeling sorry for yourself is not the
way, especially when you end up hurting the ones you love the most in the process.”

“I never...”

“Yeah, you never meant to hurt anyone, I know.” Her tone is dry, and Louis cheers in his head.
“But you end up doing it anyway, Harry, so get a fucking grip and start learning how not to make
everything about you, for once.”

Harry doesn't answer, but he's probably making his offended frog face, because Isma continues,
tone harsher.

“Your husband is lying sick because of what you've put him through these past years, and you're
lucky your daughter is still a bit too young to understand the kind of shit her dad is up to. But this
won't last, cause she's smart, and she's growing up fast. Think about that while I'm gone, will you?
I'm going to pray.”
With that, Louis hears a chair shrieking and after the sound of a few steps, the door opens and
closes.

They're alone.
Louis hears Harry sigh shakily, so he finally sits up to look at him. He absently feels a tear rolling
down his cheek, but doesn't pay attention to it as he stares at Harry.

He is sitting at the edge of one of the chairs, his head buried in his hands, his short curls a real
mess on top of it. He's wearing a white vest and a pair of sweats and he's scratching the carpet
with his toes.

When Harry finally looks up, his eyes are bright and wet, and they go wide once they meet Louis'.

“Oh.”

Louis doesn't say anything. He simply stares.

“How long have you been-” listening “-awake?”

“A while.”

“Oh,” Harry says again.

“Yeah,” Louis says back.

The silence that follows is the heaviest Louis' had to experience in their relationship, and that says
a lot with the weird stage they've been in the last couple of months.

“Look, Louis, I'm-”

“Lie down with me?” Louis interrupts.

He suddenly doesn't want to hear any of what Harry has to say. He doesn't want to listen to
anything. He just wants Harry's arms around him.

It's something he has wanted for a very long time now, but has always been too afraid to ask for.

Harry huffs in disbelief and the ghost of a smile starts to appear on his chapped lips. He shakes his
head, then slowly but surely joins Louis on the bed, not breaking the eye contact for one second.

He slips under the covers and into Louis' arms, nuzzling his collarbones just like he used to do
before all of this. Louis smiles.

“We'll talk, I promise.”

Harry hugs him tighter.

--

When Louis wakes up, hours later, the first thing he sees is a mop of curly brown hair two inches
from his face. The smell of strawberry overwhelms him rapidly and he smiles, soothed, reaching
so he can wrap his arms around the small figure pressed against his chest.

“What are you doing here, little monkey?” he asks with a raspy voice, tickling his daughter's side
in the process.

“Papa,” Sandy laughs, curling into a ball and shying away, close to Harry, who's lying on her
other side, “stop, it tickles!”

“Alright, alright, Papa will stop” Louis surrenders, “but only if you give him a massive, giant,
enormous ‘good morning’ kiss. How does that sound?”
Sandy giggles and turns to him, crinkles by her eyes. She wraps her arms around him and gives
him a kiss on his nose, then on his mouth, and then she tucks her head in his neck, blowing hard.
Louis yelps and bursts out laughing, bringing his fingers to her belly and tickling her mercilessly
in return.

They're wrapped in their bubble until he hears Harry's distinctive laugh over his own. Harry's
green eyes are bright, his cheeks are pink and his dimples are out, bracketing his massive smile.
His curls look so soft under the morning sun, like sweet cinnamon rolls. He's beautiful.

God, Louis loves them so much.

He pats softly his daughter's hip. “Sandy honey, how about you go have some brekkie with
Stan?”

Sandy pouts, “No, I want to stay with you and Dad. We haven't had breakfast together in ages!”

Louis' heart breaks hearing those words coming from her mouth. Fuck, he and Harry really have
done awful things to her. He's about to give in, out of guilt, but Harry jumps in right then.

“How about... you go to the Disney Park again with Stan this morning, then Papa and I will catch
up with you for lunch and we'll go to the biggest ride in the park in the afternoon. How does that
sound, Sandy?”

He hasn't even finished asking that Sandy is already jumping off the bed, running toward her
room, clapping and yelling. Louis laughs, shaking his head, as Harry gives Stan a quick call.

They order breakfast up in the room, and Harry goes to help Sandy put on her princess outfit
while Louis takes a shower. The doors between the three rooms are left open, and Louis feels
nothing but pure bliss when he sees Sandy giving Harry a twirl in the middle of her room, wearing
a shiny tiara.

He slips into a clean pair of sweats and a light vest, and is about to join them both when his phone
starts ringing. The caller is unknown and he picks up frowning.

“ 'lo?”

“Lou? Hey babe, it's me.”

Louis almost drops his phone.

Because yeah, okay. Fuck. Liam.

How has he managed to forget about bloody Liam?

“Liam, hey. Hi. Uh,” Louis sputters, panicked. His eyes flicker to Sandy's room, but Harry and
her are not here anymore. He's probably just taking her to Stan's room.

“What is.. how are you?”

“I'm good, I'm great thanks. We just finished recording the last song, Zayn's on the phone with his
producer. I only have a few minutes before he arrives, I thought I'd ring you up, see how things
were.”

Louis wants to stab himself with how sweet Liam sounds right now. Fucking hell, he's such an
asshole. He sits on the edge of his bed, biting his lip.
“That's good, amazing! I'm really happy for you,” he says honestly.

“Thanks, love. How are you, how's Sandy? You guys having fun? I hear it's freezing in Paris.”

“Yeah, yeah, kinda cold, you're right.”

There's a bit of a silence after that, a small one. A confused one.

“Are you... is everything alright?”, Liam asks quietly. “Are things going bad with.. with Harry?”

He sounds genuinely worried, and it makes Louis feel even more terrible. He wants to say so
much, he just doesn't how.

Look I'm sorry Liam, I really like you and you were amazing with me these last few months, but
I'm afraid I can't be your boyfriend cause I'm pretty sure I'm going to ask my husband to get back
together with me in less than two hours. Also, we fucked a few weeks ago and he kissed me last
night.

How can he say that over the phone?

“Liam, I'm-”, Louis coughs, “I'm sorry. Uh. I wish you were here so.. so I could tell you in person
but. Harry... I mean he- well I essentially...”

Liam cuts him with a sigh. Louis stops talking but Liam doesn't speak either, he just stays silent,
the only thing proving he's still on the phone being the faint conversation Louis can hear in the
background.

“Okay, Louis. Uh, I'm gonna have to hang up soon. Just... It's okay. We're. We're not boyfriends,
like we never were. Ah fuck,” Liam says quickly, too quickly, as if the words are falling out of his
mouth and he's trying to get them back in. “Okay, you know what? This is not a conversation to
have over the phone. I'm going to say things I'll regret cause you're not standing in front of me.
When are you coming back?”

Louis swallows. He's got a massive knot in his stomach, and weirdly enough, he just wants to be
next to Liam to hug him tight.

“I don't know yet,” he mumbles. “We were supposed to leave in a week or so, but I think we
might be home sooner. I haven't asked Harry yet, but I want to come home, so.”

“Yeah, okay,” Liam says sharply. “I'll. I have to go now, but call me. When you're home, call me.
I'll drop by, or I don't know. We'll meet, and then we'll talk.”

There's no room for discussion, but Louis doesn't want to object either, so he nods before
remembering Liam can't see him, and ends the call after a small alright, see you is murmured into
the phone.

He sighs, his head bowed down, clutching the phone against his thigh. He feels horrible. He
knows he's been a terrible... whatever it is that they were, to Liam, he just doesn't know what to
tell him when they see each other again.

He doesn't have an explanation for his behavior. Everything he's done was without a thought; he
just did what he did because he felt like it, no logic behind it at all. He just realizes how fucking
selfish that is, towards Liam and also Harry, but most of all to Sandy.

He's been a terrible father to her, a terrible friend to Liam, a terrible husband to Harry... He's just
been spending his time fucking up this past year, he now realizes, hiding behind the fact that he's
had his heart broken.

“You were on the phone?” Harry's voice interrupts him.

Louis looks up to find him at the threshold of his and Sandy's room. He's scratching the back of
his neck, apparently unsure of whether he should come in or not.

“Yeah,” Louis says. “With Liam.”

Harry visibly swallows and nods, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

“Did you...? I mean, are things over now? Between you and him?” he continues, coming closer to
the bed, steps careful.

Louis nods, then snorts, looking down at his phone. “I mean, I'm not sure things had even really
started in the first place, so.”

Harry doesn't answer, but Louis can see him biting his lip hard, frowning. He's twisting his
fingers, like he's looking for the right thing to say.

“So he's not your boyfriend?” Harry presses, now standing right in front of Louis.

“N..no, I don't think so,” Louis answers weakly, meeting Harry's eyes which, for once, are not
filled with sadness or anger. They're full of something Louis hadn't felt in Harry's stare in a long
time.

Something hard, and heated, and wonderfully tender at the same time.

“Louis, please, if you don't want to, tell me. Tell me right now, I'll stop,” Harry whispers,
hovering over him.

Louis feels a hundred shivers going down his back, he feels the heat of a thousand fires burning in
his veins.

“We need to talk, though,” he tries, not sounding convincing to his own ears.

“We already talked a lot yesterday.” Harry crouches down in front of him. He brings his hand to
Louis' chin and forces him to look him in the eyes. “But we'll talk again. I promise. I just- I need
to get my mouth on you first.”

Louis' mouth parts and he lets out the tiniest, most quiet whimper he's ever given. His legs spread
in instinct and that's all it takes for Harry to surge forward and capture his lips into a biting kiss.

It's so much more than the kiss they shared a couple of weeks ago, in Louis' kitchen. So different
from the one they shared last night.

There's no anger, this time, but it's passionate, rough, and harsh. Harry's mouth is soft but the way
his teeth sink in Louis' bottom lip is hungry and when he stands up, bringing Louis up by the hard
grip he has on his jaw, Louis is overwhelmed with how actually tender this all feels.

“Get on the bed, lie down for me?” Harry asks in between kisses.

He doesn't wait for Louis' answer and pushes him down on the mattress, breathing hard. Louis
lands on his back and clumsily props himself up on his elbows, mouth agape.

Harry's eyes are dark, his short hair is a mess, and his lips are so pink Louis is sure it matches the
color of his dick.
color of his dick.

Wow, Louis thinks. Thank God he never writes romantics songs when he's horny.

Harry quickly takes his vest off, along with his sweats, and he's on top of Louis in no time, caging
him down. He noses along Louis' jaw and bites his neck occasionally, his big hands roaming over
Louis' middle.

“God, your smell,” Harry breathes before he licks a broad stripe against Louis' jugular.

Louis hums, not sure he'd be able to say anything else if he tried. He's so painfully hard he can't
think of anything else besides Harry's mouth and hands.

Speaking of which. Harry's hands go behind Louis' thighs and he grabs them, forcefully bringing
them around his own waist. They both let out a harsh gasp when their hips meet, and Louis moans
when Harry starts grinding on him.

“Fuck, you're so hot, baby,” Harry mutters against Louis' mouth, kissing him again. “So hard for
me. Want it so much, fuck.”

Louis whines and his hands leave the sheets he had so far done nothing but clasp tightly, and he
grabs Harry by his shoulders, pressing him closer.

“Look at you, you're so desperate for it, aren't you?” Harry huffs, slowing his movements. He
backs away a little, teasing Louis by only brushing their dicks together, before he dives in full
force again and grinds his cock on Louis'.

“Harry-” Louis tries, but he's cut off by Harry sucking a mark on his neck.

“I know you've been thinking about it for months,” Harry hushes in his neck, “getting off on the
thought of my cock. You love it so much, I know you have.”

He grinds even harder, and as Louis starts to think he's never felt so much pleasure just from dry
humping, Harry sneaks his hand up his throat and rests it there, scorching hot against Louis'
boiling skin.

“Do you want this, too?” Harry murmurs into his ear, tone bordering anger. “I bet you do. You
love it when I keep you from thinking about anything else than my cock.”
Louis is hot all over. His cock is achingly hard, caged between his and Harry's body, and the
horny part of him is dying to just nod and take everything Harry is willing to give him.

However, he's still got some sanity left, so he puts his hands on the front of Harry's chest, pushing
him away a little.

“Harry, no, just...”

Harry frowns and his hand leaves immediately Louis' throat, his hips also backing away.

“I'm sorry, I thought...” Harry starts, cheek turning a bright shade of pink.

Louis instantly curls his fingers on his shoulder, keeping Harry from getting off him.

“No! No, no. I want you. You didn't read this wrong, I do want you,” Louis presses, locking his
and Harry's gaze. “I just- I'm not ready to... play, for now.”

“Oh,” is Harry's only response, and Louis knows he's trying to hide his emotions but he sees it so
clearly on Harry's face- the confusion, the hurt.
“Hey, H,” Louis murmurs. He leans up and kisses Harry's chin softly, trying to get his attention
back. “I'm not saying never again. I'm saying not now.”

“‘Cause you don't trust me yet,” Harry cuts him off. He's cross, Louis can see it, and he almost
wants to smile at how much Harry looks like a frog when he makes this face.

“Because we don't trust each other yet,” Louis corrects him. “I'm afraid you're going to choose
your career over me again, you're afraid I'm going to drink myself into oblivion... We're not ready
for that kind of intimacy yet. The both of us aren't.”

Harry doesn't answer, but Louis knows he's agreeing by the sigh he gives. He lets his head fall
onto Louis' shoulder, and leaves a small kiss on it.

“How come you always know what's best for me? For us? And I'm always the one trying to fuck
things up?” he mumbles into Louis' collarbones, his breath tickling Louis a little.

He giggles at the sensation.

“That's because I'm older. And wiser. And you're an immature dickhead,” Louis states, smirking,
his fingers pulling lightly on Harry's short curls.

Harry snorts into his neck and bites down on it, soothing it with a quick swipe of his tongue.

“I hate you,” he mutters.

“You love me,” Louis automatically shoots back, realizing his words a millisecond too late.

They both freeze. Harry's head stays buried in Louis' neck, and Louis' fingers stay unmoving,
wrapped around Harry's locks of hair.

Then Harry pulls his head out and sets his eyes onto Louis', eyebrows knitted together. He's doing
the frog face again.

“I do. I love you.”

He speaks quietly, voice almost inaudible, but with such determination and honesty that Louis
doesn't even feel like breathing, afraid to cut the delicious tension just created between their faces.

“I love you so much, and I'm sorry I've been acting like a jerk so far during our marriage. I
definitely didn't show you how much you mean to me. I made you feel alone, and uncared for, but
I promise I'm going to work on this and give you and Sandy the best version of me I can.”
Harry pauses, and that gives them both the opportunity to hear both of their hearts racing in their
chests.

“If... if you'll have me,” Harry adds, and this time, his voice breaks a little.

Louis lets out a shaky breath.

His brain feels completely empty. It's blank, he can't think of a word, of a name, for what he's
feeling right now.

His heart is racing so much that it hurts, his fingers are shaking in Harry's hair, and he can't make
himself free from Harry's pinning gaze.

He's pretty sure his legs are not attached to his body at all.
“I think,” he rasps, and his hoarse voice seems to startle them both a little. He clears his throat, “I
think I'm willing to give this a chance.”

Harry blinks and a single tear falls onto Louis' cheek. He smiles, laughs, and leans in in the same
breath, lips moulding into Louis' in the tenderest way they ever have.

Louis opens his mouth, letting Harry's tongue caress his, and he feels hands landing on his hips.
Not grabbing him, not pinning him down. Just resting there, touching him.

Harry pulls back after a few minutes of making out and lets out a laugh.

“What is it?” Louis asks, smiling.

“Nothing, just. We ended up kind of talking after all.” Harry answers like he's seen it coming
anyway, and he pointedly looks at Louis to make him know it's all because of him.

“Hey, don't call me a cock block!” Louis says in indignation. “You were gonna choke me, I had
to.”

Harry laughs again and kisses Louis’ lips.

“Never called you a cock block, baby. Also, there's still plenty of time for sexy thingies to
happen.”

Louis groans immediately, causing Harry's torso to shake into giggles.

“I can't believe you still say 'sexy thingies'. That's what made me leave in the first place.”

“Sexy thingies,” Harry teases in a syrupy voice, brushing their noses together.

“Just stop, you're going to cock block yourself if you keep going.”

That seems to convince Harry to stop saying bullshit, apparently, because he dives in immediately
and kisses Louis, open-mouthed and sloppy.

“I missed your mouth so much,” he mumbles into it. “You always taste so good.”

“Mph,” is the only thing Louis can say back, and there's a voice in the back of his head nagging
him about how, even though they're not exactly playing, he can't help but give in a little every
time Harry speaks to him that way.

“What do you want?” Harry asks, darkened eyes meeting Louis'.

His voice is still beautifully, achingly sweet.

“Anything,” Louis answers, gripping Harry's arms, bucking his hips up to brush their dicks
together. “Just make me come.”

Harry kisses him again, and in the time it takes for Louis to blink, he's at eye-level with Louis'
crotch.

Louis lets out a broken moan at the sight and lets his head fall back onto the pillow. He feels
Harry's strong hand on his hips again, but this time with more intent.

“I'm gonna turn you over, now,” Harry says, and he doesn't wait for Louis' answer before flipping
him onto his belly and stripping him off his sweats.
Louis' breath is knocked out of his chest as it collides with the mattress.

“Fuck,” they both let out shakily at the same time, but Louis is pretty sure Harry's reason is not
related to being manhandled.

“God, Louis, you're just-”, and he doesn't finish his sentence, cutting himself off by diving in
mouth first.

The sound Louis lets out is everything but human. He shuts his eyes, arching his back and
spreading his legs, and his arms fumble around to grab onto a pillow before he buries his face in it.

“Jesus,” he hears Harry say again, his warm breath ghosting over his sensitive hole.

Louis feels Harry's thumb rub over it, circling around the rim before pressing in just a little.

“It's so tight,” Harry mumbles, and Louis isn't sure it was even meant for him to hear.

“I haven't... it's been a while,” he whines nonetheless, feeling the need to answer, to let Harry
know.

Harry doesn't stop petting his hole, leaning in again to trace it with his tongue at the same time.

“How long?”

His tone is rough, low and sweet, and Louis kind of wants to beg.

Not yet.

“For- oh fuck. A few months,” he whimpers into the pillow, pushing his arse out a bit more,
desperate for Harry to do something already.

Harry pulls back a little, and blows on his hole.

“Yeah. Looks like it,” he murmurs.

Louis whines, biting on his forearm, dick hard and hurting so much he's dangerously close to
reaching for it and getting off before Harry decides to get his mouth back on him.

Before he can do it, though, Harry is back at it, this time with a definite intent, a real purpose.

He does it just the way Louis likes it. Kisses his hole sloppily, sucking a little on the rim before
tonguing inside as far as he can, and then he goes back to the kissing, driving Louis mad with
pleasure.

It goes on for so long, just like this. Harry behind him French-kissing his asshole as if his life
depended on it, Louis a whimpering mess dripping on the hotel sheets.

Harry's hands have stopped spreading his cheeks apart, so his head is literally buried in between
them, but he doesn't seem fazed by it, going even stronger with each lick. Louis wants to cry with
how good it feels, but he can't help but think that if Harry's hands aren't on him, they're probably
on Harry himself, wrapped around his own dick, and.

No. That's just not fair.

“Ha-H,” he huffs, lifting his face from the crook of his elbows. His hair are sticking to his
forehead, and it adds to the building irritation in the pit of his stomach. “I need to touch- fuck. Can
I get myself off, please?”
In response, Harry fucking groans disapprovingly against him, sending odd but pleasant vibrations
all along Louis' thighs, and Louis’ head falls back into his arms.

“Harry,” he moans, pleading.

Harry pulls back abruptly and Louis feels a light smack on his right cheek. He gasps.

“No. I want you to come in my mouth. Roll over.”

Louis does something which might appear as grouching. He admits it's not his proudest moment,
but that's apparently what his life is going back to now.

“No,” he says, wiggling his ass in what he hopes is Harry's face. “I wanna come like this, I just
need you to let me touch-”

He's cut off by another slap on his ass, this one a bit more harsh and he inhales sharply, his knees
giving out.

“Stop arguing and let me suck you, for God's sake, Louis,” Harry growls sternly.

He grabs Louis' hips surprisingly softly and helps him turn over while ignoring Louis' impatient
mutterings. Louis watches him as Harry leans in to wrap his lips around one of his nipples, biting
lightly at it.

“Why are you always so difficult, mmh,” he asks, not really asking, boring his almost completely
black irises in Louis'.

Louis has to roll his eyes, or else he'll get lost in Harry's, and that won't lead to him having an
orgasm anytime soon. He brings his hand in Harry's hair and threads his fingers in the brown
locks, tugging Harry up to kiss him.

It's a bit rough, with a little tongue and a lot of teeth, and if he didn't want to get lost in Harry's
eyes before, he definitely doesn't mind getting lost in this right here, no matter how much longer it
denies him his promise of coming.

Harry's lips are plump, perfect for Louis to bite, his tongue is velvet soft and his mouth is
producing just the right amount of saliva to make the kiss smooth but not too wet, and Louis wants
the world to stop, because fuck.

Kissing his husband will never stop being the only thing that feels just right in his world.

“I love you,” Harry whispers onto his lips in between kisses. “I love you.”

His voice is heavy, low, filled with lust and affection.

So it only feels natural for Louis to roll them over, push Harry onto the mattress, and, after kissing
him harder than he ever has before, whisper back, “I love you, too.”

Harry lets out a little laugh, a disbelieving smile slowly spreading around his face. Louis feels
warm hands hesitantly finding their way on his waist, glistening eyes searching for his own.

“Yeah?”

“Mmh,” he answers against Harry's mouth. “Now let me ride you. You'll wake me up with a
blowjob after, if you want it so much,” he adds with a smirk.
Harry immediately groans and his hands fly to Louis' ass, big palms spreading his cheeks apart
and squeezing. “Yes, please.”

So Louis does. They stumble around looking for lube for a moment, and when they find it, Harry
fucks two fingers in Louis' ass while they make out for what feels like three hours, and then Louis
gets impatient, (“it's just been a couple of month, Styles, not a bloody year” “I know, I just enjoy
doing it” “I hate you”) so, before Harry can make a move to stop him, he's lining up Harry's dick
with his hole and he starts sinking down on it.

“Wait, fuck, Louis- oh my God. Con-condom?” Harry manages to say, harsh breath coming out
of his mouth, big hands coming to rest on Louis' thighs.

Louis stops halfway on Harry's cock, and breathes out to let his body adjust to him. Harry does
have a big dick, after all.

Louis' eyes widen and he looks down, studying Harry's apprehensive features, arsehole stretching
more and more by the second.

“I- fuck. You're the only one I've done it bare with,” he puffs.

And okay, shit.

Yeah, he hasn’t done it bare with anyone since Harry. He's sure of it, and he got his last results
three weeks ago, so he knows he's clean.

He doesn't know about Harry though.

Flashes of Harry in the same position they're in suddenly appears in his mind, but with some other
body on top of him, maybe Isma's, maybe someone else's-

“Hey, hey hey, Louis, no,” Harry instantly rushes to grab one of Louis' hands to get back his
attention. “Don't- I didn't.. with anyone else, I promise. I didn't even have sex with anyone since
we broke up, Louis look at me.”

Louis blinks. His thighs are burning. He's still halfway impaled on Harry's dick, so when Harry's
words hit him, he crushes the fingers that have made their way in between his own.

“What about-” he starts.

“No one, I swear.”

And Louis really wants to ask more questions. He really does. Because it doesn't add up. For
Christ's sake, he still has the image on walking in on Harry half naked in bed and Isma wearing
nothing but a dressing gown two nights ago.

Instead, he lets himself down and engulfs Harry's cock entirely inside of him.

Motherfucker. It hurts like hell.

It also feels like the best fucking thing in the world.

It knocks the breath out of both of them, if he's completely honest, with the way he sees Harry's
eyes bulge out and he feels hard nails dig into the meat of his hips.

“Louis, baby,” Harry whispers, but Louis doesn't let him speak before he starts rocking his body
“Louis, baby,” Harry whispers, but Louis doesn't let him speak before he starts rocking his body
forward.

They both moan, but Louis winces a little as well, a familiar pain stretching him where he and
Harry are connected.

“This is a lot,” he manages to exhale, untangling his and Harry's hands.

He lets himself fall against Harry's chest and hides his face in Harry's neck, breath laboured and
limbs trembling.

Harry laughs breathlessly, and his palms come to rest on Louis' lower back, fingers drawing
soothing shapes on his skin.

“You're amazing,” is all he says before grabbing full fists of Louis' love-handles and lifting him
off his dick, almost all the way up, only to slam him back down in one swift move.

Louis- well, he's nothing much but a moaning mess after that.

He's always been pretty loud during sex. So loud that one time, Harry had to gag him with his
own underwear to keep him from waking up their flatmate back when they lived in their small flat
in Leeds.

Right now, he's pretty sure he's about to top that night's noise level.

“Taking it so well, baby,” Harry grunts, breathing hot against the shell of Louis' ear. “So good at
it. Gonna make me come way too soon, fuck, I love you.”

Louis starts crying, then, overwhelmed by the presence of Harry literally everywhere around and
inside him. Harry's smell, Harry's skin, Harry's voice, Harry's warmth. And well, Harry's cock,
obviously.

It's all too much.

“Fuck, Harry-” and then he's coming all over himself and Harry's stomach.

He drags his nails all along Harry's torso, sinking his teeth into the tender flesh of his shoulder,
and comes so hard and for so long that his vision turns black and his ears start ringing for a whole
entire minute.

Harry's hands start roaming over his back as he tries to catch his breath, and then he's on his back
again, body so weak he can't really stop Harry from manhandling him in the position he wants,
just lets it happen, eyes half closed and a happy shiver running along his blood vessels.

“Gonna come on you, okay,” Harry states more than asks, and Louis watches as his massive hand
flies around his massive dick, stroking at an inhuman speed.

He studies Harry's face, dark eyes glued to the mess on Louis' belly, clenched jaw, red lips stuck
in between white teeth. Harry is so beautiful.

Louis watches as Harry slowly starts closing his eyes and opening his mouth, and he watches as
Harry lets out the sexiest moan that he has ever heard, and finally, finally, he watches as Harry
comes, all over him, on his dick, on his thighs, on his belly, hot white spurts painting over Louis'
already drying come.

“Shit,” Louis hears him swear.

He kind of expects it when Harry brings two fingers to scoop up some of their mixed come and
brings it to his mouth, not breaking eye contact with Louis.

He gasps nonetheless, a noise that is immediately swallowed by Harry's mouth on his. He feels a
tongue prodding his mouth open and, unsurprisingly, the bitter taste of come invades it. He groans
as Harry grabs his jaw, opening his mouth wider, tongues sliding wetly against each other.

What can he say? Harry has always loved comeplay.

As if to prove him right, Harry then trails his fingers back to the puddle of cm on his stomach. He
bites Louis' lip playfully before dragging his fingers lower, reaching in between Louis' legs.

Louis closes his eyes and grimaces when he feels Harry starting to rub two come-coated fingers
against his hole, and before Louis can protest, Harry shoves them back inside him.

“Harry, I'm sensitive,” he whines, closing his thighs to halt Harry's hand movements.

Harry immediately stops and draws his fingers back, swiping them on the bed sheets.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologises softly in Louis' ears. “Got carried away,” he explains with a smirk
before kissing Louis on the lips, mouth closed.

Louis snorts and lets Harry find his usual place, face crooked against his collarbone, and he
tangles their legs together once he's finally settled.

“Let's sleep a little, then we'll take a shower,” he murmurs in Harry's hair, kissing it lightly.

A sleepy 'mmh' is all he gets in response.

He smiles.

–-

They only spend one more day in Paris.

Louis and Harry go to Disneyland one last time with Sandy, and they kind of have fun, if Louis
doesn't take into account the occasional appearance of a pap on several rides they go on.

Harry searches for his eyes each time, apologies written all over his face without him having to
say a word, but Louis just shrugs and squeezes his hand.

Sandy is the happiest of them all, though. She's very smart, and Louis believes that she actually
knows something has shifted between her parents, so she's taking full advantage of it.

Their last day really is wonderful, and they stay until the last show, with wonderful projections on
the big castle, and Louis feels truly, wonderfully at peace- with his daughter in his arms and his
husband's hand in his, and the promise of many other nights like that giving the perfect rhythm to
his heart beat.

When they get to the hotel room, though, things start to feel a little different.

Louis can't help but glance repeatedly at the mini bar, then at the door, then at the mini bar again.
He bites at his lips really hard, avoids looking into Harry's eyes and doesn't talk at all, simply nods
when Harry asks him something.

The second Harry gets in the shower, he stands up and runs up in the corridor, towards the lift,
heart racing.
heart racing.

The only thing in his mind is alcohol. He wants -yearns- for a drink.

He hasn't made it a few meters before he hears the door slamming behind him and Harry's voice
shouting at him. Only seconds later, he feels strong, wet arms grabbing him by the waist, stopping
him in his tracks.

Louis barely puts up a fight when Harry brings them both back inside. He faintly registers Harry
locking the door behind them, and then he feels the mattress underneath him.

He's shaking. Maybe crying, as well.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I should've known,” Harry mumbles against his skin, kissing along his neck,
his collarbones.

His clothes are removed from his pliant body, his eyes lost in the white void of the ceiling, and he
shudders when he feels Harry's breath hover over his crotch.

“We'll figure something out, baby,” Louis hears Harry whisper before a tight, sloppy heat
envelops his dick. “I'll help you, you just need a distraction...”

And so Harry distracts him. For hours.

He sucks Louis off, then fucks Louis' mouth, and when Louis starts shaking again, a few minutes
after that, he flips him over and fucks him hard and fast, talking in his ears about how pretty he
looks, how good he feels, and how strong he is.

It's all a bit foggy, if Louis is honest, but it feels good and warm.

A couple of hours after that, when it's dark and the light of the moon is filtered by the curtains of
the room's open windows, Harry stands up to get Louis something to eat and crawls back into
bed, wrapping them both in the blanket.

“That wasn't... too much, was it?”, he asks hesitantly, his fingers idly playing with Louis' stubble.

“What d'you mean,” Louis mumbles, munching on a chocolate bar.

“Like- cause you said you didn't want to play yet,” Harry shrugs. “But it seems you went kind of
under, just now. No?” He lifts his head from where it's resting on Louis' shoulder to meet his eyes.

Louis raises his eyebrows, surprised.

“I mean,” he chews on his snack, “not really. I was kind of out of it after that last pounding, I'll
give you that,” he half smiles, “but overall it was fine. Great, even.”

Harry shuffles, his hands trailing down Louis' torso to play with the hair under his navel.

“Then- then what are the limits? ‘Cause I did fuck you pretty hard,” he tries to joke, but Louis can
hear the actual confusion in his tone.

Louis sighs, wondering what to say. He has to admit that, when it comes to their sexual dynamic,
he never made any decisions. He used to tell Harry to try out whatever he wanted on him, and if
he didn't like it, he would just say the word.

They never really had a conversation about limits, Louis realizes. Maybe they should have.

“I don't know,” he says eventually. “I liked it just now, when you took things in charge and didn't
really ask. I liked that you knew that's what I needed, and made me come until I was still and calm
again.”

Harry doesn't answer right away. He continues playing with Louis' stomach hair.

“So.. You want me to take care of you like that when you can't calm yourself down?” he asks,
like he's truly trying to understand and make things clear between them.

Louis wants to kiss him forever.

“Yeah, pretty much,” he confirms, leaning in to kiss the top of Harry's head.

“And how about, like, the things I do while I'm fucking you?”

Louis smiles, cock stirring a little even after coming twice already.

“Don't worry, you can keep sucking me off all the time,” he teases. Harry laughs and slaps his
belly jokingly.

“I meant- how do you feel about all the things we did before, you know?” Harry insists after
they've stopped laughing. “Do you still want me to talk to you? Call you- like, the things that used
to turn you on? You said no about choking – which is completely okay – but how about
spanking? And toys?”

Louis coughs, a little overwhelmed. Before a few weeks ago, he hadn't seen Harry's cock for a
year, and now here they are, in Paris, lying in bed after a quite phenomenal dicking session, with
Harry talking about things like spanking and degradation as if they were the most trivial things on
earth.

“Oh, uh-,” he stutters.

Harry laughs, probably realizing he was a bit blunt, and tries to sooth him by caressing his chest,
which-

Not helping.

“Take your time,” he murmurs before kissing Louis' ribs gently.

“I'm not sure,” Louis says after a moment. “I need the dirty talk, definitely, but not.. not the kind
we used to do. Not right away, I mean. That'll put me under in no time, so, no.”

“Mild dirty talk, then?” Harry asks with a smirk. “Things like, 'You look so hot baby, wanna
come all over you', and 'I wanna fuck you so hard, make you come on my co-'”

“Yeah, okay, shut up!” Louis screams, pushing a cackling Harry off of him.

“Sorry, sorry,” Harry breathes, wide grin eating half of his face.

Louis wants to hit him.

“And about the spanking,” he says, “I'm not ready for it either. You can, like, slap my ass a little
when you eat me out or when you fuck me, but not-”

“Not like we used to,” Harry finishes for him. He still sounds a little hurt about the whole thing,
but Louis can see that he's trying to understand that them not trusting each other entirely yet
doesn't mean they won't ever get there.
“I can work with that,” Harry sighs, confirming Louis' thoughts.

Louis smiles and reaches for Harry's hand, and they lace their fingers, looking into each other's
eyes.

“Louis?”

“Mmh?”

“When we get home, I think you should see- I want you to see someone. For your... problem.”

Louis stills, and before he thinks better of it, he lets go of Harry's hand.

“You mean a psychologist?” He asks, voice without fail sounding cooler.

Harry's expression doesn't falter. He sits up and faces Louis, grabbing his hand again.

“Yes. I think you need it. For yourself of course, but for me too, and above all for Sandy. I want
you to be a good father to her without having me distracting you with blowjobs because I don't
know what else to do when you get like that.”

Louis opens his mouth to answer, to tell him to fuck off, he's already better, it's not because he
tried to have one bloody drink tonight that suddenly he's back to being the mess he was- well.

The mess he was just yesterday. The mess he was last week. And two months ago.

The mess he's been for a year.

He blinks. His eyes go to their linked hands, then back to Harry's face, and his knitted eyebrows
and his plump lips.

Louis sighs, and nods.

They kiss for the rest of the night, after that, and Harry makes him come two more times.

–-

They see Isma in the hotel lobby the following morning. Louis sees her first, making eye contact
for a split second before he sees her gaze land behind him, and he doesn't have to turn around to
see that she spotted Harry.

He goes to her first, anyway.

“Hi,” he greets firmly, trapping her shifting eyes into his.

She lets her handbag fall on ground next to her feet, squinting her eyes.

“Hey,” she says back slowly.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” Louis tells her, and her eyes immediately become more focused.

She frowns, her mouth agape. “What?”

Louis sighs, looking down for the first time.

“Look, I don't really like you, I think I made that clear,” he starts. “But like. I heard you talking to
Harry the other day. When we were all in his room? And I don't really know what exactly was it
that you guys did when- in your relationship, but from what I heard, you seemed to be very good
to him. You used very grounding words and that really helped us, so thank you.”

Isma keeps frowning, and doesn't say anything back, at first. She just glances from Louis to what
he's sure is Harry, standing not far behind him.

Then she snorts and starts idly fixing the red scarf around her head.

“You're thanking me because I helped you get back with your husband? Even though he was my
boyfriend, like, two days ago?”, she asks ironically, a bitter look on her face.

Her brown eyes flicker a little when Louis doesn't answer, taken aback by her blunt honesty
regarding her feelings.

Not that he took her for a hypocrite but. Ignoring the whole thing and smiling politely is what he
would have done if the tables were turned.

He definitely should give her more credit than he does right now.

“You're welcome Louis,” she says with a sad smile. “And I still love him, you know, so I'm not
very fond of you either,” she tries to joke, and surprisingly, that breaks Louis into a smile.

“I can't argue with that,” he shrugs with a smile. “Just, don't steal him from me again, please,” he
teases.

“Hey,” she laughs before shoving his shoulder playfully. “You're the one who stole him from me,
he was single when I got to him!”

It's gets a bit awkward after that, and they both cough, a little uneasy. That's exactly when Harry
decides it's his cue to act, apparently, because Louis immediately feels a large hand coming to rest
on his waist.

“Hello,” he hears Harry's voice gravel next to him.

Isma lights up, before a shadow settles back on her face. “Hi, Harry.”

They all stay silent, Isma still playing with her scarf, avoiding to look at them both in the eye.

“Are you okay?” Harry eventually asks, high-pitched voice cracking the tension a little.

She shrugs.

“Been better,” she answers simply.

It's silent again. Louis kind of wants to bury himself twenty miles away from here. Can't Harry
take his fucking hand off his waist? They're in front of his ex-girlfriend, for fuck's sake. Tactless
much?

“Look, I'm really glad that you guys are good, but this is really hard for me,” Isma squeaks
abruptly, grabbing the bag at her feet. Louis can see tears pooling in the corners of her eyes.

Shit.

“So I'm just gonna leave, alright?”, and her voice is even more high than Harry’s was minutes
ago. She nods at them and starts walking away, and Harry's hand leaves Louis' waist as he
instantly follows her steps.
“Isma,” he tries weakly.

“Alright?!” she shrieks again, voice quavering and alarmed.

Harry sighs and his arm falls against his side in defeat, stopping in his tracks.

Louis swallows, a knot in his throat, and steps closer, hesitantly lacing their fingers together.

“You okay?” Louis asks quietly.

Harry lowers his gaze at him and he's got little shiny pearls stuck in his eyelashes, too. He shrugs.

“I just broke someone's heart,” he declares, voice flat, eyes empty.

“Harry,” Louis tries.

“Let's just go,” Harry cuts him off, and he turns away, back to the lobby, where Sandy and Stan
are chasing each other, making most of the people standing around fond at them.

He doesn't let go of Louis' hand, though.

--

It only takes them a few of days to adjust. Adjust to living together again, adjust to spending time
together that doesn’t involve – much – fighting, adjust to sleeping in the same bed every night and
waking up tangled up together every morning.

They take even less time to adjust the planning around Sandy. Who’s taking her to school, and
who’s cooking, and who’s cleaning, and who’s going to pick her up from her gym class. It’s like
they never stopped, really. Like the past year never happened, like they’re back to how it was a
year ago, except now Sandy is much more talkative and eats like three people on her own.

It’s like nothing ever happened, until day six, when Sandy is at school, and Harry is out to his
other house to pick up new clothes, and Louis is alone and lonely, and all he can think about is
alcohol.

The second they stepped into the apartment, a week ago, Harry took it upon himself to hunt down
all the bottles of alcohol in the house- in every corner, drawer, and shelf he could find.

Louis didn’t help. He sat on the couch and looked at his husband’s journeys to the kitchen, and
heard every last drop of his bottles go down the sink.

And now he’s alone, he wants to drink, and can’t, because bloody Harry took all of his vodka
away.

He ends up lying in his bathtub, in the middle of the afternoon, crying his eyes out, the stream of
water nearly drowning him with how hard it’s falling on his face.

But in some sort of sick way, it’s fucking great, because he’s trying not to suffocate, and that’s
keeping him from thinking about fucking drinking.

That’s how Harry finds him: a complete, shivering mess, red faced with white knuckles clutching
at the sides of the tub.

“Shit, shit, shit, Louis,” is all he can make out from Harry’s panicked screams.

Harry takes care of him after that in the only way he knows how, for now. It’s all a bit blurry, but
afterwards, Louis feels warm and clean and taken care of.

“I’m gonna make a few calls tomorrow,” Harry whispers in his ear, hugging him tighter than ever
before. “We’re gonna get through this.”

--

And he does. Harry calls someone the morning after, while still in bed. Louis is pretending to be
asleep the whole time, but Harry knows anyway and while he talks to a doctor, and then hangs up
and calls someone else, and then another doctor, he strokes Louis’ hair and scratches his back.
Louis feels safe.

--

The doctor’s name is Mason. Louis doesn’t know his last name, but he’s tall and broad and his
eyes are kind. Louis doesn’t feel like talking the first two days, and Mason doesn’t push, but on
the third day, Louis cries and Mason is wonderful to him.

Louis thinks that it could work.

--

He sees Mason again, every day of the week, for two hours. They don’t always talk, sometimes
they play Uno, and sometimes Louis shows him photo albums. Mason doesn’t push, and Louis is
grateful for that.

He tells Harry about it every night, when they’re in bed and cosy, and Harry congratulates him
and kisses him so deeply, with so much love.

It’s going to take time, but Louis knows that he’s going to be okay.

--

Louis calls Liam two weeks after they’re back from Paris.

He knows he should’ve done it way sooner, that he’s kinda been fleeing from it, but when Liam
picks up, he doesn’t seem mad, or annoyed. He agrees on coming over during the afternoon, and
hangs up saying a soft, “See you later, Lou.”

When he arrives, Harry is in their bedroom. He said that he didn’t mind being in the apartment
while Louis and Liam were talking, but also said that he’d rather not hear what Liam had to say.

“Call for me if you need anything, though,” he mumbled into Louis’ mouth while they were in the
shower that morning.

“Mmh,” Louis said back, and then he sunk down on his knees.

Now, he’s sitting on the couch, Liam opposite from him, both of them staring at everything but
each other.

“How... How’s work?” Louis tries after a moment.

“Good, good,” Liam answers too quickly, cheeks reddening. “Zayn’s album is due in a few
weeks, so we’re very excited. He made me rap on one of his tracks,” he adds bashfully.

Louis’ eyes go wide and he grins.

“Damn, Payno! That’s great news, I’m- just, wow!”

Liam laughs a little and waves his hand as if it were nothing, but Louis can tell that it’s everything
right now.

“And you? How was Paris?” Liam asks then, and the mood immediately turns back into
something cold and awkward.

“Uh,” Louis says. “Good, I’m- Sandy loved it! It’s Disneyland, you know,” he jokes half-
heartedly.

Liam swallows and looks straight into Louis’ eyes.

“What about you? I assume you and Harry are back together, now,” he blurts out. Liam’s own
eyes widen in surprise, as if he weren’t expecting to be so blunt about it.

Louis clears his throat, uneasiness floating in every inch of his bones.

“Look, Liam, I shouldn’t have done it that way. I’m so sorry, everything just happened when we
were there, we talked and stuff and- I don’t know how to explain it,” he says, hiding his face in
his hands, defeated.

“I kinda get it, you know,” Liam eventually says with a shrug. “Like, you’re in love. There’s not
much one can do to compete against that.”

Louis opens his mouth to start protesting, but Liam cuts him off by raising his hand in front of
himself.

“What you did is still wrong, though. You shouldn’t have agreed to go steady with me when you
knew you still had such strong feelings for him.”

Louis swallows and nods. He really feels like crying right now, but he also gets that maybe, he’s
not allowed to, cause he’s not the one getting his heart broken.

“I forgive you, though, because I know you haven’t had it easy this past year, and no one
understands confusion more than me, so. Yeah, it’s okay, I forgive you.”

Louis heart explodes and he can’t help himself when he shoots up from his seat and goes straight
into Liam’s lap, hugging him tight against his own chest.

“You’re so amazing, Liam,” he murmurs into the man’s hair.

Liam doesn’t answer, but a few seconds later, his arms come locking around Louis’ shoulders and
he hugs him back, sighing into his neck.

“You’re something else, Louis,” he laughs in disbelief, and Louis joins him, vision blurry.

Damn it. He is crying, after all.

After that, he offers Liam a piece of cake, that Liam denies kindly before declaring that he’s got an
appointment in an hour and that he should probably go. He hugs Louis again before leaving, a
small glint in his eyes.

“I know we didn’t talk about everything, and I think that it’s good as well, to end it this way,” he
says thoughtfully as Louis accompanies him to the door.

Louis nods in agreement and waves Liam goodbye while he climbs down the stairs, promising to
Louis nods in agreement and waves Liam goodbye while he climbs down the stairs, promising to
call him if there’s anything new at work.

Louis feels nice and floaty when he closes the door and he rushes to their room to tell Harry how
it went, but when he gets into the room, Harry is sitting cross-legged on the bed, his phone
crushed in his fist, crying.

Louis immediately joins him on the bed and holds him, peppering kisses along his neck.

“What’s wrong, babe?” he mumbles when Harry nuzzles against his chest.

“It was Isma on the phone.”

Louis stills, his hand stopping their caress against Harry’s back.

“Uh. Okay? How did it go?”

Harry sniffs and snuggles in closer.

“She said she’ll forgive me, with time, but- but-”

Harry starts crying again, not able to finish his sentence, and Louis tries his best to soothe him,
kissing his temple and scratching his back.

“She said she didn’t want us to stay friends,” Harry finally lets out a sob, and Louis’ heart breaks
at the sound Harry makes. “She said she was in love with me, but that right now, she couldn’t
love me and be there for me as a friend, and-”

Harry doesn’t say anything after that. He just sobs quietly against Louis, and he holds him tighter
every second until, an hour later, he eventually falls asleep, snoring peacefully, breath tickling
Louis’ neck.

Louis loves him endlessly, and he’s never going to stop.

--

That night, Louis takes Harry and Sandy out to eat at a fast food joint, and they have a wonderful
time. Sandy orders a kid’s meal and they spend the entire time trying to build the tiny toy hidden
in the box.

Harry gets annoyed at some point because, “It’s so complicated, for God’s sake! Is this a kid’s toy
or what?” and Sandy and Louis laugh at him for way too long after that.

When they get home and Sandy is asleep, Harry ties a silk headband around Louis’ mouth to keep
him quiet, and fucks him from behind for half an hour.

Louis even lets him whisper how much a dirty slut he’s being for it.

It’s a great night.

--

On day seventeen of therapy with Mason, they actually start talking about drinking. Louis cries a
little, but Mason is very happy with him and tells him he’s very impressed with how quickly Louis
is adjusting to being sober and he also tells him that he’s lucky to have Harry.

Which brings them to having Harry attend one of the sessions a few days later and he ends up
being the one crying, holding Louis against his chest for hours after that, whispering how proud
he is of Louis.

Louis is proud, too.

--

Louis has got to admit he's never seen Sandy happier. With Harry staying over and spending the
entire day with them and cooking and playing with her while Louis sits and watches, he’s sure
she’s caught on that things have changed now.

Confirmation of that thought comes at diner the twenty-fifth evening they’re spending together as
a family, again.

Sandy is sitting at the table, drawing in a pile of salt Louis has poured on it, laughing at how
Louis’ flowers definitely look like garbage.

“Now that Dad is back, I think we could get a cactus or something,” she states nonchalantly,
wiping away Louis’ disaster of a drawing.

Louis hears Harry’s movements falter behind him, where he’s chopping cilantro over the finished
dish.

“What,” is all Louis can say in return, staring at his daughter.

“You never wanted to let me have a houseplant, ‘cause you don’t know how to care for it. Dad
knows already, I asked him the other night. And I think I want a cactus. Or maybe some type of
succulent, I don’t know yet.”

Louis doesn’t really know what to say. He looks at Sandy, dumbfounded, as she starts adding
details to the cat she’s been shaping in the salt.

“I heard that it is as important to talk to them as we do with animals,” Sandy keeps talking. “Tell
them about our day, changing their pot, placing them in other rooms so they can feel something
else than the same space all the time.”

Since none of her parents are responding, Sandy looks up from her art, and blinks.

“What? It’s true!”

Harry barks out laughing and finally decides to move, joining them on the table with the dish. He
takes her plate to start filling it, but not after leaning in to kiss her on the forehead.

“I’m sure it is, honey. And I’d love to show you how to take care of a succulent. I’ll teach Papa as
well, right?” he adds, meeting Louis’ eyes.

Louis swallows and nods, not really knowing what to say.

He’s in love with Harry, he is. And he loves his daughter, and their family, but...

They’ve not even been back together for a month yet! He’s not sure that they should actually let
Sandy know and risk her being confused-

“I’m happy that we’re together again,” Sandy says peacefully. “I missed having dinner with you,
Dad.”

Harry glances at Louis and he winks, probably to calm him down. Okay, so Louis apparently
looks just as distraught as he feels.
 looks just as distraught as he feels.

“I’m happy as well, honey. I missed you both a lot,” Harry says softly, reaching over to stroke
their daughter’s cheek.

Sandy looks delighted, but then she squints her eyes and looks down at her plate.

“It’s going to be... forever, right?”

Harry’s hand freezes on Sandy’s face, and Louis can see that now he’s the one who doesn’t seem
to know what to say.

So Louis coughs and takes both their hands in his and tries to sound confident when he says, “Of
course, sweetheart. We’ll always be a family.”

Harry immediately finds his eyes, and he smiles hesitantly. Sandy looks up and grins, clapping her
hands.

“I knew it! We had to have a happy ending!”

Both Louis and Harry raise an eyebrow, breaking the eye contact to look at Sandy, who’s looking
exceptionally smug.

“What are you on about, now?” Louis teases.

“Stan told me that Disneyland was the place for happy endings. I knew it had to mean something
else than made up stories, though, and I was right: we’re real, and we’re happy!”

She jumps out of her chair and locks her little arms around Louis’ neck, hugging him tight for only
a few seconds and then she goes into Harry’s arms and does the same.

After that, she comes back to her place and starts eating, the smug look not having left her pretty
face.

Louis will never get over how amazing, smart, precious, and sweet his daughter is. And looking
up at Harry, he can see that the feeling is mutual.

They both let out a breath and, linking their fingers over the table, they start eating and listening to
Sandy’s newfound plan to create a nail polish that changes colour when hit by sunbeams.

--

Five weeks later, Louis hasn’t as much as looked at a bottle of alcohol, not even once, and to
celebrate, he lets Harry spank him over the washing machine in the laundry room.

It’s working out.

Chapter End Notes

Oh my God.

Okay I guess I should start by saying a big, massive, never ending sorry to all of you?
Like. I don't even know how to begin.
I literally look f o r e v e r to write that last one, didn't I? I guess I could say I had
reasons: I travelled in march (went to Harry's show in Paris, yay!), then I had my
finals, then, I started applying to new schools cause I hated my previous campus, then
I got into the school of my dreams and I started working to have money for a new
flat, and then I moved in my new flat a week ago IN FUCKING PARIS lmao and
throw in there a few weddings and nights out, and flues and family time, and yeah, I
guess that would cover it, right?

EXCEPT. The truth, the actual truth, is that I'm a lazy bitch. There's no easy way to
put it. I read, I netflix, i spend way too much time on twitter/tumblr/youtube, and I
just never do anything.

I also have to say: I've had this idea for a fic for so long now. For years, really. I
started writing it only a year ago, cause before that, I wasn't really confident in my
English to be good enough. I've been living and breathing next to this story for so
long now, I've been hanging out with my characters for so long... I kinda guess I
grew tired of it. I was pissed at everything in this fic, I hated every word I'd written so
far, I just couldn't do it.

And then last night I just. I opened my laptop and re read it and changed everything
in the last chapter, and I fell in love all over again. And I wrote, and wrote, and wrote
for hours, and I hadn't felt so happy in a while doing that.

I'm very happy with how everything turned out. Obviously, there are a few plot
holes, and things I wish would've had turned out another way, but at the same time, I
love how this story became something on its own, without having me making all of
the decisions. I grew very fond of all my characters, and I know some of you have
favourites and get pissed off at some of them, but they all are my babies, and at the
end of the day, I'm proud of everything they all have accomplished.

So yeah. For those of you brave souls that stuck around for the past seven freaking
month, I'm sorry, and you're everything. I love you, thank you for coming back to
read what my sorry ass took so long to put together.

I also know some of you liked Isma a lot - as did I - and her character didn't really
end up following the pattern I was hoping for. I wish she was there more, but she just
decided to go her own way, separately from Harry and Louis' life. Maybe I'll write a
spin off, though? Maybe make it into a series with scenes from the past, scenes with
her and Harry, and maybe scenes that haven't happened yet? Not sure what to think
about it. Tell me in the comments if that would be interesting to you! (Here is a
picture I drew of her, if you wanna see how I imagine her - please, don't judge my
non-existent artistic qualities, I know I suck)

The last - but not the least - thing I'll do, is thanking Katherine, my beta. You've been
so good to me, so patient, so good at what you did! You're the best beta I could've
asked for, but also, honestly, one of the best friends I know as of today. I'm so happy
that this fic brought us together, and that it made us bond on so many other things.
Holo, Marvel and screaming about Larry wasn't what I was expecting from this deal,
but dang, how happy I am with how it turned out! You're the very best, thank you <3

Thank you again, from the bottom of my heart, to every single one of you. I'll see you
next time, hopefully :)

And of course, if you guys any questions, comments or anything, I'm always
available on social medias and stuff!
 twitter / tumblr

If you liked this story, you can buy be coffee :)

End Notes

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