onwindowsills
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“What,” Louis starts, always hating how silence like this drives him crazy, “what exactly are you gaining from all this? All this, following a mediocre band around. Why do you do that?”
Harry giggles around her cigarette, looking out at the alley. When she smiles, her teeth peek out behind her red lips, giving him the chills— right down to his core. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen a smile so pretty. So enthralling he can’t take his eyes off of it. “I’ve got nothing better to do, Louis.”
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Louis is a roadie for a rock band, and Harry is their groupie. 1970s au.
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Louis looks at him like his words might break him, glass about to splinter, one wrong footfall away from shattering into a million tiny pieces.
“Hey,” Harry breathes, and he knows, meeting Louis’ eyes, that his words could break him easy as anything. He almost wants Louis to bring his boot down.
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AU. Nova Scotia, 1968.
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Harry doesn’t expect it to happen while Gemma’s in Australia. He’s not lonely, this time, with plenty to do and the adrenaline of the end of tour, the excitement of going back to Japan. And Gemma, of course, her jokes at his expense and her flirting with Niall and her hugs for every occasion, the way she looks like mum when she scolds him half-heartedly. There’s no reason it should happen.
He wakes up in Louis’ bed anyway.
Bookmarked by onwindowsills
27 Jul 2020