Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Louis is late. Fuck, she is so late - and it’s not even her fault. What else could she have done, when the café where she normally picks up their coffees, randomly decided not to serve Harry’s favourite anymore? There was no other choice but to run in the opposite direction, to the next shop, even though it takes fifteen minutes more. The extra time is well worth it, however. Louis couldn’t have shown up without Harry’s drink.

Not that said girl would be angry or disappointed. No, not too-nice-for-her-own-good Harry. But she always gives Louis this special, ‘thank you for thinking about my needs,’ smile. (Not that Louis is thinking about her needs...at least, not all the time.) And Louis lives for that smile. Louis would do anything to see that smile.  

A boring day is always made better with the sight of that one special smile.

“God, I’m so embarrassing,” Louis mumbles, as she finally reaches campus.

Rushing up the staircase, that leads straight to the second floor, Louis stalls, just as she reaches the door to her class. Yes, she’s well past the point of being late, but her awareness of her disheveled appearance keeps her from moving forward. Even though she comes across as self-confident, she definitely has her fair share of insecurities. One of which is demanding she check herself in the loo, before bolting into a room full of people, especially when one of them is Harry.

Unfortunately, despite her wants, there isn’t much she can do. Glancing at the looming clock on the wall, she has two choices. Either she goes inside unstyled, or she makes herself look better, but then adds another ten minutes of time she’ll miss. Not to mention, letting Harry’s coffee get cold, and earning herself a lecture from the Professor. Needless to say, it isn’t a difficult decision to make.

Entering the room, all of her thoughts are pushed to the back of her mind when she spots Harry, and her friends, in the third to last row. Niall has on her favourite snapback, that covers the majority of her short blond hair, and a football spinning in her hands, as always. She’s watching Liam and Zayn, who try to be as subtle as possible, while cuddling into each other’s arms and ignoring everyone else around them, such as the girl to their left...Harry.

Beautiful, perfect Harry - who’s long, rich curls lay like silk around the beauty of her face.

Apparently, Louis is a poet. Which, no worries, because she is already embarrassed for herself.  Don’t even get her started on Harry’s eyes. Speaking of, Harry’s emerald gaze finds her coming in, and the worried expression that it held disappears entirely, leading the way for a vibrant smile to emerge. Louis feels her own face light up just by looking at her - her best friend. She scolds herself internally to get a grip, though neither her flushing cheeks nor her fastly beating heart, ever seem to listen.

With the knowledge that this condition won’t change as long as Harry is around, Louis makes her way over to her friends. When she reaches their row, she sees that a few people are sitting in the way of her goal. The first couple makes space for her quietly, without complaint, allowing her to move past easily to the next person, a large, blonde, guy sporting a cocky smirk. She recognises him as one of the idiotic footie guys who doesn’t respect her, even though she’s Captain of the girls’ team. It’s mainly because the girls are better than the boys, and it hurts their fragile pride to know that. At least, that’s what Harry always tells her when she and Niall get angry about it.

The guy doesn’t address Louis as she’s standing next to him, so she clears her throat to ask in the most polite tone a Tomlinson can muster at eight in the morning, “Sorry to bother you, but could you move so I can get to my seat?” Even throwing in a smile for good measure.

Moments pass until he looks up at her, letting his eyes roam over her short figure. From her thick thighs, over to her small chest, finally landing on her tousled pixie cut. Grunting in frustration, he stands up in slow-motion and finally lets her through. Louis sees her gorgeous best friend grinning goofily at her and throws all her prejudices about him to the wind, as she turns around to say, “Thanks Tom, I wouldn’t have known where to sit if you didn’t let me through to my friends.”

Just as she’s passing in front of him, she hears harsh words whispered lowly in her ear, “Whatever Louis. You’re still a fucking bitch.”

Stopping dead in her tracks, Louis startles, “Excuse me?”

“Just ‘cause you do a sport and want to impress boys with your football knowledge, doesn’t mean anyone’s interested. I have a girlfriend, so back off!”

The idiot’s voice is coated in arrogance, and Louis wants to wash her hands immediately. Though that’s nothing compared to how shocked she is by his reaction. Can’t someone just be nice these days? Does everyone have to make everything about sex? On top of that, he made her proud status as the Captain into an attempt to attract boys, when literally the whole school knows she’s gay.

And fucking proud of it.

Louis has never been good with controlling her anger. There are some legendary stories dating from Primary School, up until now, about how she’s lashed out at people, though most involve standing up for Harry. Therefore, no one would be surprised if she tore this guy apart on the ethics of respect, honour and football - and then back to respect again. However, what she does instead surprises everyone, including herself.

“Oh, that’s so cute. Y’know, I’ve got one too!” She hears herself say, in a mocking tone.  

The words she’s spoken invoke her to turn away from him, to face Harry, who’s gaping at her like a fish, unaware and unprepared for the move she pulls next.

Kissing that same confused girl, square on the mouth.

While Louis may have been a Maths champion in Primary School, she can’t count how often she’s imagined kissing her friend. Harry, with her full pink lips that are so kissable against Louis’ mouth. With her cosmic curls that are tickling Louis’ face. With her plush, soft skin that feels so warm against Louis’ hands, right now. Yes, Harry.

The only girl she has wanted to kiss since she realised she liked girls. The only girl she has ever loved. The only girl that she has hoped and prayed to one day be able to call her girlfriend, fiancé, spouse…Harry.

As in her best-friend-since-forever.

As in her most-likely-straight-best-friend-since-forever.

As in her most likely-straight-best-friend-since-forever-who-doesn’t-know-she’s-in-love-with-her.

“Oh God,” Louis’ mind screams, “what is happening?”

Suddenly, Louis’ bubble of a perfect first kiss with the love of her life bursts, and she realises all too quickly where she is, and what she’s doing. She slowly draws herself back from Harry’s lips, opens her eyes, and sees two huge ones looking back. Harry’s nose is scrunched in that confused, yet adorable way, and her mouth is hanging slightly open in a silent question. Louis panics, but she’s too nervous to deal with any explanations now.

She decides that they can handle it later.

Later, when she’s thought of a good enough lie to justify what she did, and later when Harry stops looking so cute (which is never, honestly). Just later. So, ignoring everything, she clasps Harry’s left hand within her own, avoids the knowing smirks of her friends, gives the idiot next to her one last triumphant glance, and sits down.

Chapter Text

The minute class is over Louis is gone, out of her seat faster than the clock can tick to the next second. What had she been thinking? Obviously, she wanted to prove a point to that big-headed idiot, but to kiss Harry? Harry, who had been given no warning whatsoever, when they had never done that before. What had she been thinking?

Her embarrassment grows steadily as she leaves the crime scene until a firm hand stops her from going further.

“Lou.”

Oh no.

Her eyes shut tight, Louis is hoping that she doesn’t have to see what she already knows, but even without sight, she can feel as her body is tugged in another direction.

“Lou, look at me.”

“Nope, no way,” Louis replies.

“I’m going to tickle you if you don’t.”

She hates being tickled. Fuck.

“Alright,” she relents, peeling her eyelids apart to release her blue eyes back into the sunlight. Back into the view of Harry standing before her with concern etched like a stencil on her face.

“Why did you run off?”

“I,”  and how does she answer this honestly? Does she admit that she’s always liked Harry and she’s running off because she thinks she might have just ruined the one thing she has of her  – her friendship? Or does she answer that she’s running off because her lips haven’t stopped tingling with the sensation of their kiss, and that she might be tempted to do it again?

Harry doesn’t give her the chance to decide when she inquires, “Don’t you want to go to the park?”

The park is this little patch of field that they go to after class, with the rest of their friends to play footie. It’s not anything special, just a casual kick about with Niall and Liam, while Harry and Zayn sit and watch. With Summer fervent in the air, it’s a good day to be outside, but she can’t. How can she be normal around Harry right now? It’s just not possible.

“Sorry, ‘m not feeling well.”

“Oh, you should have said. I’ll walk you back –”

“No! Uh, I mean no. It’s alright. You go hang out with everyone else, tell them I’ll see them later.”

Harry’s eyes - that have a funny way of controlling Louis’ heart with every glance, round with worry, but she gives in. “Okay. Call me if you need anything. I can bring you soup.”

“I’m good Haz, you go on.”

Eventually, she does, allowing Louis to stand and watch as she goes. It’s the most beautiful and difficult thing for her to witness, but it has to be done. She’s done too much. When she returns to her flat alone, she spends the whole night berating herself over the events that occurred, because really –

What had she been thinking?

What had she honestly been thinking?

**

Three in the morning comes after hours of unachieved sleep, with Louis reminiscing about all she and Harry have done together. They’ve been best friends since they were infants, due to their Mother’s having been inseparable throughout their youth, too. It was fated for their families to be close, written in the stars. But she always knew that the way she felt about Harry - her love and affection towards Harry - wasn’t the same as what their Mother’s had. Wasn’t the same as what she and her other friends had.

It was different. It was more.

The first time that Louis knew she loved Harry, as more than a friend, was when they were six. Harry’s family was over for Sunday Game Night, but at this point in the evening, Harry’s older sister Gemma was off with Louis’ younger sister Lottie, their parents were gossiping, and Louis and Harry were left to their own devices. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

Flashback:

“Lou Lou, can we play with the dolls today?”

The disgust on her face said enough - she hated playing with dolls, her sisters always tried to force her into playing, but she never would. All they ever wanted to do was to make them get married and kiss, and she didn’t want that. She would rather play with her Legos, or go outside and play a game out there. Anything, truly anything, other than dolls.

“Ugh no, I hate dolls!”

The anger with which she displayed her words, had been more than she meant, but she didn’t realise it would be enough to make Harry cry. Though, to be fair, Harry always was (and still is)  the more emotional of the two. A fact Louis has always adored.

“Wha – why are you crying?”

“If you hate dolls and I love dolls, then that means you hate me,” Harry whimpers, between her sobs.

“Hazza, no,” Louis panics, as she scoops the sobbing girl up into her arms, “I love you. I love you so much, a lot. And I know I said I hate dolls, but I don’t hate you.”

“Really?”

“Really really,” Louis promises. “I love you, Harry.”

“I love you too, Lou Lou.”

The two girls giggled, Harry’s shiny, wet face overcome with a grin. Louis’ heart thumped a little at the sight, but more so at the words, and she just knew then. She didn’t know what the difference was, she didn’t know how to explain the difference, she just knew it existed. That it was fact. The sky was blue. The grass was green. And she was in love with Harry.

End of Flashback

That was the first time Louis ever played with dolls, and still to this day, Harry is the only one she has ever played them with. Her sisters have asked her millions of times, but the answer has always been a resounding no. But for Harry, the answer has since, always been, a resounding yes.

**

Sometime early in the morning, Zayn comes home to their flat. Louis hasn’t slept an ounce and, as if Zayn is aware of this fact, she knocks on her door.

“Louis? You up?”

Groaning from her place in her covers, Louis lifts her exhausted body out of bed and practically crawls to the door. “How’d you know?”

When the door opens to reveal the beauty that Zayn is, her hazel eyes alight against her dark features and tan skin, Louis notices a prominent smirk settled on her face. “I was there yesterday too, wanker. Figured you wouldn’t be able to sleep after that debacle.”

“Ugh, why am I friends with you?”

“Because I’m the only one who is honest with you,” Zayn answers, as she slides into Louis’ sheets. Louis gets in beside her thinking about that statement because it’s true. Harry and Louis may have been friends for forever, but Zayn is the only one that will tell her honestly if she’s being stupid. Even Niall, who definitely doesn’t take her shit, sometimes still bites her tongue, rather than say anything.

Zayn is never afraid to admit how she feels, and Louis respects that about her greatly.

“So,” Zayn hums after she’s adjusted herself closer to Louis, “Tell Z what happened afterward. All I know is that you left class like a fucking wild woman yesterday, and Harry sprinted out after you. I asked Li if we should check on you two, but she and Niall agreed that it was best to let you both talk. But then Harry showed up to the park, not even five minutes later, and acted as if nothing happened. So…go on.”

Louis huffs, “Well, I ran off because I was so embarrassed. Like…I kissed Harry, in front of so many people, and without asking her, yeah? Like, what the fuck was I thinking? And then she comes up to me, as if nothing happened, asking why I was running off and not going to the park. And, I don’t know? I...I almost wanted her to react to what I did. Does that make sense? Like, I wanted her to come up and say something to me so that I’m not left here guessing how she felt.”

“No, I get it. If she reacted a certain way, you could have figured out how to handle it from there,” Zayn says, quietly.

“Exactly. I mean, did she hate it? Because if so – I’d apologise, so much. But if she liked it...well, then, let’s fucking get married!”

Zayn laughs, “I don’t think marriage is the next logical step after kissing, but –”

“You know what I mean,” Louis interjects.

“I do, yeah,” Zayn affirms, cuddling closer into Louis to provide comfort for the sulking girl.

“Why is this so hard? Why do I have to be in love with someone who has absolutely no interest in me?”

“That’s not true, Louis.”

“Yes, it is! I remember Harry’s first kiss when we were twelve, and it fucking broke my heart, for a couple of reasons. One, because it wasn’t me. And two, because I always thought that maybe Harry at least liked girls in that way. At least that’s what I thought, what I was hoping. And then she comes to tell me she kissed fucking Zach. Zach! Of all fucking people.”

“But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t like girls,” Zayn argues.

“Yeah, but she’s never said anything about it. She tells me all the time about the guys who try to chat her up. She never mentions other girls, or girls she thinks are attractive.”

“Maybe she doesn’t know how to bring it up?”

Louis frowns, “I don’t know. All I know is that I fucked up, so bad Z.”

Squeezing her arms tighter, Zayn answers, “Just talk to her, alright? That’s the best advice I can give.”

“Sounds so simple.”

“Because it is.”

Talk to her, Louis contemplates in her head. For something that used to be done without a second thought, why did it seem so difficult? Probably because all of those times before, she was calling Harry as a friend. Now if she rings Harry up, she’s not so sure who she’s calling as.

**

After dinner that night, Louis is sprawled on the couch, watching a movie with Zayn, when she receives a text.

Hazza: Dani’s tomorrow?

Dani’s…shit. Dani’s is a bakery they only go to when they need to have serious talks. It’s their tradition, they refuse to discuss anything sad, depressing, frustrating, or just plain stressful – until they have six cupcakes in front of them. But maybe it won’t be so bad?

Louis: Sure, I can be there at noon

Hazza: See you then!

No, it can’t be bad. It definitely can’t be bad.

At least, that’s the mentality Louis sticks with as she heads into the bakery the following day. Pushing open the door, nerves bundle up inside like vines, twisting tighter into a knot as they make her feel sick with stress. Why is she getting so worked up, she wonders. It’s just Harry.

However, once she sees her at their usual table the sickness whirls inside.

“Hey!”

“Hey,” Louis returns, as she timidly gets into her seat. Harry is already prepared with their order. Three mint chocolate chip for Louis, and three red velvet for her. They always eat the first two of their favorites, then swap the last, so that they can have each other’s. It’s been their tradition ever since they started coming here their first year, although Harry’s flavors have changed throughout the years.

“So…” Louis starts, “What did you want to talk about?”

Leaning forward, Harry tucks  the loose curls that try to slide onto her face, behind her ear. “Well, I mean…I think we both know the answer to that.”

“I still want to hear you say it.”

Harry flushes, “Erm, well yesterday?”

“Yeah? And?”

“This is sort of a strange request, to be honest.”

Louis gives Harry a look that informs her to keep going. She stares unsurely into Louis’ blinding eyes, but continues, “I uh, I was thinking that maybe? Well, maybe you could do that again…for me?”

Stunned. She is absolutely stunned. Harry wants her to kiss her again? Really? Yes, a million times! What the fuck is she even waiting for?

“You want me to do that again?”

“Yeah…I mean, if you want? Sorry, it’s just, I want to keep certain people away and –”

Certain people away? Wait…what?

“Harry, what are you trying to say?” Louis asks, exasperated.

“I’m trying to say that I want you to do that again.”

Louis snaps, a bit more than she means to, “Do what exactly? Just spit it out.”

“Pretend to date me,” Harry finally admits.

Oh. Oh.

“Pretend?”

“Yeah, oh God. I knew I shouldn’t have asked. I just thought that maybe…” Harry’s voice trails off.

The obvious thing would be to say no, considering that there’s no way she could fake feelings that already exist. And for that reason, the fact that she’s already emotionally devoted to Harry, she should decline the offer. She should remain friends with Harry, and continue with the unrequited love and infinite pining she’s become used to. 

“Harry?” She asks.

“Yeah,” Harry glances up, her gaze boring into Louis, like green flames against Louis’ soul. It’s too much. Those eyes have always been too much. How could she deny them anything?

“Just to clarify. You want me to be your fake girlfriend, to pretend to date you? Right?”

“Don’t make me say it again Lou,” Harry begs.

“Please.”

Sighing, she complies, “Yes. I want you to pretend to be my girlfriend. I’ve had a lot of people bothering me lately, and maybe if I had you as my girlfriend, then they would leave me alone.”

“Who’s bothering you, Haz?”

“Erm, so ever since I started to dress differently –” Harry starts.

“You mean ever since you started to dress like yourself. ”

“Uh, yeah. I’ve just been receiving a lot of unwanted attention. Some of it’s flattering, and some of it’s, well...I’m asking you to be my fake girlfriend, aren't I?”

Louis saddens insurmountably at not only the information, but Harry’s body language as she talks - she’s guarded, nervous, scared , “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal,” Harry shrugs, “I could handle a few catcalls, but I mean, when you kissed me yesterday, it just gave me an idea. And I thought, I don’t have to put up   with this, and I don’t have to deal with it alone.”

“You don’t have to deal with anything alone,” Louis is quick to promise. “I’d murder for you Harry, just say the word.”

“The scary thing is that I know you’re not lying, but no. I think acting like we’re together, especially in front of them, will avoid any unnecessary confrontation, while also getting the point across that I’m not available. And if they think I’m not straight, then all the better.”

Louis groans, “Okay. But if one of them even dares to say anything to you when I’m walking you to class, they’re going to have my foot so far up their arse!”

“Trust me, Lou, I know,” Harry says, her previous frown pulling itself into a grin, “Remember when George said my curls were ugly?”

Louis snorts, “I got detention for a week!”

“Better than being suspended, yeah?” Harry laughs.

“Ha ha, he had it coming. All the boys were scared of me after that. Wouldn’t come near you either.”

“Cause they knew they’d have to deal with you,” Harry smirks, allowing her dimple to deepen into the creamy complexion of her skin. Louis wants to kiss it.

“I feel no remorse. Boys are awful anyway.”

Harry shakes her head while giggles softly pull from her lungs. As Louis watches, she thinks about what her friend confided in her, and deflates. Why would anyone want to upset Harry, of all people? Why would they want to mess with her? It’s even more disturbing when she knows, and has stood by Harry, every painstakingly slow step it took for the beautiful girl to break out of her shell, to outwardly express herself as creatively as she is within. How hard it was for Harry to be Harry. So why would anyone want to try and destroy all the hard work she put in? Why would they want to destroy all the accepting she’s done?

And nothing disheartens her more than knowing that Harry has been bothered this much.

“So,” Louis returns to their conversation, “You’ve thought this out, and you think a fake relationship is the best way to resolve this problem?”

“Yes,” Harry answers quickly.

“What about our families, friends? What do we say to them?”

“We don’t have to say anything. We hang out all the time as it is, it won’t seem any different. The only thing that will change is the way we act around other people. How we are in class, walking to class, out drinking at parties or bars. And not much has to happen except for walking by me, and maybe holding my hand,” Harry explains.

“Which I do anyway.”

“Yeah, see? It’s going to be exactly the same.”

Exactly the same. Not for Louis it won’t. Not even close.

There must be a sign of resistance in her features that Harry picks up on, as she ponders the information, because Harry leans even further over the table, and grabs Louis’ hands. “Lou Lou,” her perfect lips plead. And Harry knows. She knows that using her nickname is the key to getting her to give in. It’s the wrecking ball against her infrastructure. Every time it comes out, it comes out swinging, and it breaks her down just a little bit more.

As if that wasn’t already enough, Harry goes on to say, “I know I’m an awful person for asking this of you and putting this pressure on you, but I have no one else to turn to. You’re the only person that’s ever stood up for me, and I don’t know how to handle these things without you,” she takes a breath, a necessary pause, before finishing her point, “I need you.”

Louis’ heart shatters, a million tiny shards scattered onto the floor, ruined forever by those last three words. I need you. I need you. I need you. This is where she should say no, it’s clearly already more than she can handle, but the selfish part of her can’t help thinking that this will be the closest she’ll ever get to dating Harry. Plus, she doesn’t want to lose this opportunity, doesn’t want to ruin this chance. And who knows? Maybe if she can show her how good their relationship could be, maybe Harry would consider dating her for real? Maybe Harry would give her a real shot at being her girlfriend?

Louis shouldn’t be so surprised when she hears herself answer, “Yes.” And yet, somehow, she still is.

“Yes?” Harry repeats curiously, as though she doesn’t believe what she heard.

“Yes,” Louis gulps, finalising her choice. “I’ll do it.”

A deep sense of doubt is rooted in Harry’s tone, as she asks, “Are you sure?”  

All those times Louis played with dolls, just to make Harry happy, return as reminders in the distant background of her thoughts.

“Haz, I’d do anything you asked of me.”

The grin she receives in response is illuminating, but it’s Harry’s grin, so Louis doesn’t expect anything less. “You’re the best. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Good thing you never have to worry.”

“Yes, good thing,” the girl beams.

“Well, let’s put these cupcakes to good use, we’ve got a new relationship to celebrate.”

Harry’s laughter plays like a song in Louis’ ears, “Yes, to our new relationship!”

“To us,” Louis cheers.

“To us,” Harry replies.

They take their first bites, and though the mint is every bit as good as it’s always been, the taste doesn’t dispel the acid of regret forming on Louis’ tongue.

What did she get herself into?

**

Sometimes there are moments when cupcakes and pizza and tea just aren’t enough. When that happens, when the universe is just too much for Louis to handle, she goes for a run. It’s one of the reasons she loves playing football, because it gives her the chance to stretch her legs and sprint for as long as her body can sustain. While she does love the competitiveness and the camaraderie of being on a team, running provides so much more than that. It’s her own form of therapy.

And not to mention, this evening is a good night for it.

The sky hanging overhead is splattered in purple and black, and the moon is glowing as it languidly replaces the sun. The stars aren’t entirely noticeable yet, but they will be, and that excites her more than anything else. Forgetting all that occurred earlier in the day, she pushes her mind to focus on nothing but the press of her feet to pavement, and the steady breathing from her lungs. She has no goal she’s trying to hit, she has no mileage she’s trying to aim for.

She just wants to run until she aches too much to go on. Until it hurts too much to continue.

The first time Louis went out for a true run, a run to clear her mind, she was twelve. She had already been playing football since she was six, but she had never gone running before then. It happened on the day Harry said she kissed Zach, and she didn’t even know what she was doing until she was already a mile down the road, panting heavily on the pavement from how fast she forced herself to go. She had been trying to run away.

From then on, running had become her form of medicine. There’s no pill that can create the same effect, that can give her the same high. Having the chance to immerse her entire body into something else is addicting, overwhelming. That’s the kind of person she really is, too. The kind of person to completely throw herself into something without thinking about the consequences, without caring about the effects. Harry is a perfect example of that.

Louis is literally so gone for Harry that she can’t even look at other girls sexually. Not without comparing them to her best friend - her first love. They either are too short, too blonde, too this or too that, and it all comes down to the fact that none of them are Harry. No matter how pretty or smart or charming they are, they can’t hold a match to Harry’s radiance.

This is why she is doomed.

Taking herself away from campus for five miles, she runs until she notes it’s probably time to turn around. Not that she wants to retreat into her problems, but she also knows her limits and doing a ten-mile run is definitely one of them. Reluctantly, she shifts her direction. The entire way back takes twice as long for her to complete, because even her body is doing everything it can to prevent her from getting home. Sadly, as much as she tries, there’s only so much road left before her feet find themselves outside of her flat.

When she looks down at her phone to see how much time had gone by, there’s a text awaiting her response on the screen.

Hazza: Walk me to class tomorrow? I’ve got a group of guys I’m just dying to show you off to

It feels like the world is mocking her when she reads the text over again, and thinks about how much she wishes that sentence wasn’t tied together with sarcasm and false hope. That it was real, and Harry truly wanted to show off her new girlfriend. Unfortunately, that is not the reality that they are living in, and since she agreed to pretend, she’s going to have to start getting used to this treatment because it’s not stopping anytime soon.

At least there is one good thing to come of this. She is helping Harry out, and that means so much to her, even if it’s at the cost of her own heart. She doesn’t care, Harry has been and will always be her first priority. There’s no changing that, not now, not ever.

**

“Thanks, Lou,” Harry greets, early morning Friday when Louis arrives at her flat. While Louis had wanted to live with Harry when they talked about going to the same University, Harry’s Mum suggested that it might be best if they branched out of their comfort zones and met new people. They were both hesitant to comply, but inevitably Louis met Zayn, and Harry met Sarah and Claire. Thus, the result of random rooming had been better than expected.

After Louis had become close with Zayn, and Harry would come to spend time with them, Louis soon found the two others. It was the first day of football practice when she literally ran into Liam, and Niall literally ran into her. After that, their friend group of five was solidified. They got together for dinner, they went to parties, and they watched movies together as though they were a family - all the time.

They had become inseparable.

The dynamic didn’t change when Zayn and Liam fell in love, which had been obvious to everyone except them. It didn’t change when Niall admitted to being Asexual, and how she had difficulty finding love, which hadn’t been obvious at all. And it didn’t change when Louis confessed that she had already been in love, which was obvious to everyone except Harry - who still has no clue. Yes, they’ve remained a tight knit group of friends throughout everything, and Louis is never going to take it for granted.

Coming back to the street where she’s standing alongside Harry, Louis nervously replies, “You’re welcome.”

“You can take my hand now if you want to,” Harry suggests, as they stroll to her class.

“Oh, are those people coming up soon?” Louis asks.

“Not until we’re a little closer, but it might be good to just, uh, practice?”

“Harry, I literally hold your hand all the time, we don’t need to practice. But if you want me to hold your hand, then just say so.”

The girl colours in crimson red, utterly flustered, as she says, “I want you to hold my hand.”

Louis doesn’t outwardly show that it phases her, but inside she is a pile of mush. One big pile of lovesick mush. “Alright, not so hard, is it?”

Taking the other girl’s hand within her own is nothing new to Louis, but this time there’s significance. There’s a difference. She doesn’t know what it is, like always – she can never explain anything when it comes to Harry, but she feels it buzzing between their palms, tiny currents of electricity connecting them together.

It feels profound.

Few things are shared between them on their walk, both unsure where to begin. Louis has a million things she wants to say, a million things to mention, a million things to note, and yet not one thing leaves her lips. Why is this so hard? If the sweat on Harry’s hand is any indication, she must be feeling the same way too. Why would Harry be nervous?

Louis begins to inquire, “Do you maybe want to -”

“Oi oi, there she is lads,” a deep, male voice cheers from somewhere off to their side, just as she attempted to talk. Shifting her eyes around, her attention locks onto a group of three guys, who start whistling at Harry, as they pass. She tightens her grip on her friend and gives the guys the deadliest of glares.

One of them laughs at Louis’ expression, “Harry, tell your friend to fuck off and hang out with us instead. Bet we can show you a better time than thunder thighs over there.”

Louis laughs at their childish comment. In fact, she takes it as a compliment, because her thighs are nothing but muscle, which these pricks sorely lack.

Turning with a wolfish grin, Louis quips, “You know, acting like a prick doesn’t make yours grow bigger.”

Anger encompasses each of their faces at her witty retort, and though her body is directed towards the group to continue her verbal defense, nails are digging into her skin in opposition. Glancing away from the guys, she finds Harry clearly trying to stop her, and it’s the first time she has actually noticed her since this whole thing started. Harry’s scared, painfully so, and on the brink of tears.

“Lou,” she whispers, “Please. Let’s just go.”

Louis wants to do anything but walk away. Literally anything, but she complies, “Okay.”

As Harry guides them, Louis turns around to flip off the group, one last time, before they are officially gone. Once they’re outside of Harry’s class, she finally voices her concerns, “What the hell, Harry? Those idiots? Those idiots are who you have to deal with, every time you come to class? And you didn’t tell me sooner? What the fuck! You should report them!”

“It’s just harmless comments, they’ve never actually tried to touch me.”

“Yeah...not yet . Fuck Harry, this is serious. Do you realise that?”

Harry stutters, “I...I mean -”

“Haz,” Louis emphasises her point, gripping onto soft hands, as she looks seriously at Harry, “Please, don’t ever hide something like this from me again.”

Thankfully, Harry doesn’t hesitate as she vows, “I promise.”

“Good, we should really go and report them.”

“I think that’s a bit extreme,” Harry says, quietly.

“Why?”

“Louis,” Harry’s eyes narrow.

“Fine,” Louis sighs dramatically, “But I’m taking control of this, and if you won’t let me report them, then I have something else in mind to keep them away.”

Harry eagerly replies, “Yeah?”

Louis grins assuredly, “Yeah.”

**

The funny thing is, is that Louis doesn’t actually have a plan. She doesn’t actually know what to do to help Harry in this case. What would be enough to get those guys to stop? She could report them, but Harry doesn’t want her to; confront them, but Harry definitely doesn’t want her to do that either. It makes resolving this situation incredibly difficult when there are so few options, to begin with.

She’s going to have to think.

The best idea she can come up with, is for Harry to make use of this fake relationship in a way that will really make them take notice. Perhaps they could be more affectionate? She wants to do something big to help Harry. Something noticeable. Something to make those guys acknowledge that they have not one single ounce of a chance, with the beautiful brunette, and they have no choice but to walk away. What could that possibly be?

Luckily, since Harry’s classes take place on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday - and with today being Friday - she doesn’t have to worry about the plan until Monday morning. She has the weekend just to relax; to hang out with her friends, and just be. Temporarily, at least. According to Niall, there’s some party going on that she wants to go to, and Zayn and Liam already said they would join her. She would much rather spend her night in, with Harry, but the curly-headed girl agreed the minute she was asked, and she’s not staying home alone.

So Friday night finds them at the party. It’s another stupid event hosted by the footie team, which Louis hates more than anything in the entire universe. But Niall has friends everywhere, and there are a lot of guys here, that for whatever reason, she wants to hang out with tonight. Most likely for the food, probably for the weed - which, whatever. It’s not like partying, and the things people do at parties are awful, it’s just everyone who attends them is.

Okay, Louis is being extra.

She’s not really upset at the party. She’s not really upset at the people here (maybe a little). She’s upset because Harry ditched her the moment they arrived. Literally took off to go and mingle, and left her standing in the kitchen, like a loner with her beer. Harry knows better. They have the buddy system in place for a reason. To avoid scenarios like this.

After a third person asks her where the bathroom is, she gives up on her hiding spot. There’s a serious debate occurring in her head, on whether she should just leave altogether, but then she sees something that annoys her more than anything else.

One of those fuckboys from this morning has Harry cornered in the living room.

He’s not touching her, not yet, but he’s encroaching on her space so much, that Harry has to lean up against the wall. Louis is livid. She is fucking enraged, and she doesn’t hesitate before she’s charging over to the two of them.

“Oi, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Louis snaps.

The guy peers at her with complete disinterest, “Go away, dyke.”

Louis laughs, literally cackling in the guy’s face, “Is that supposed to offend me or something? All of you idiots are the fucking same, I swear.” Turning to her friend, she grabs onto Harry’s wrist, “Come on Haz, let’s go.”

The scowl on his mouth deepens once he realizes what Louis is trying to do, “Harry can stay with me, where she wants.”

“Funny...I didn’t hear you ask her,” Louis retorts.

“I didn’t have to.”

Louis smirks, “Harry, please tell this bag of dicks what you want.”

“I erm,” Harry flushes, “Want to go with her.”

“Whatever, I’m over this,” the boy mutters, as he begins to back off, but Louis can’t let him go just yet.

“Hey, arsehole! Remember this for next time, Harry is mine. Got it? Make sure to tell those leeches you call your friends, too. Don’t want there to be any confusion!”

The guy flips Louis off, but she feels powerful as he stumbles away.

Having nearly forgotten Harry in the process, Louis realises that her friend’s wrist is still within her grip, as she turns to face her worriedly. However, there’s no ounce of fear to be found. In fact, as Harry smiles dopily, she leans into Louis in a way that’s actually a bit suggestive. Louis blames it on the alcohol, why the sudden closeness is anything but platonic, but secretly she is hoping that it’s not entirely the fault of Harry’s inebriated state, as to why she wants to be so near to her.

“Thanks, Lou,” Harry whispers, her vodka tainted gratitude chilling across Louis’ skin, enticing the hairs on the back of her neck to raise, just a bit.

Louis frowns, despite her physical reaction to the way it’s said, “Hazza, you don’t have to thank me. I’ll always protect you.”

Harry bites her lips in thought, “You think he’ll tell the others to back off on Monday?”

“There’s only one way to know.”

Louis is feeling a lot. Disappointment for one, lingers heavily, as she bitterly remembers being ditched earlier on. But there’s also this overwhelming sense of pride, at the fact that she’s the one that can protect Harry. That she’s the one who Harry can count on no matter the problem. She hopes that will never change.

She notices that Harry’s on the brink of saying something, when Niall comes bounding over to them, and the opportunity is lost. “Oi bitches, time to go,” Niall shouts.

Harry asks, “Already?”

“Yeah, but next weekend everyone’s going to that new club that opened, and I already got us a connection, so that we don’t have to wait in line. 

“How do you literally know everyone, Ni?” Louis laughs, “It’s actually ridiculous.”

“What can I say? I’ll chat up anyone who’ll listen.” 

“Well that certainly is the damn truth,” Louis agrees.

Niall flips her off as she leads them through the front door. As they exit, Louis supposes that whatever Harry had to say will wait till next time. Which hopefully should be soon, she happily notes.

**

Saturdays are for practice. Except, this particular footie practice is only between Niall, Liam, and a few girls on the team who want more training. With Louis and Niall being the football Captains this year, it’s great for them to help out other members in need. It also makes Louis feel better knowing that they’re doing what they can to make their team the best, for this year’s championship in November. They’ve won for the past few years, but this time, Louis wants to go in undefeated.

“Tommo,” Niall shouts as she runs up from behind, and out onto the field.

“Yeah?”

There’s a smug grin on Niall’s face as she asks, “What was going on with you and Harry last night?”

“What do you mean?”

“You two seemed pretty cozy in the corner there.”

“Ni,” Louis rolls her eyes, “It’s literally nothing. Someone was bothering Harry, so I helped her. That’s all.”

Niall shakes her head, “You would think she would have figured it out by now.”

“Figured what out?”

“How hopelessly in love you are, with her. Like it’s so obvious, and she genuinely has not one clue.”

“That’s because she’s not gay,” Louis explains.

“And? Give the straights some credit, they can recognise love just like the rest of us.”

Louis laughs, “You know what I mean. Like, she sees it all as us being friends. Platonic. It doesn’t come across as flirting, and I don't want it to either. It would ruin our friendship.” 

“Louis,” Niall’s tone alters into seriousness, “You know that’s not true.”

“Maybe.”

“The worst thing that could happen is Harry telling you she loves you too, just as a friend. And is that really so bad?”

“I guess not,” Louis whispers.

“So do something about it.”

“Maybe.”

Niall shakes her head in frustration, her tiny blonde ponytail swaying rapidly from the action, but she’s also laughing, so she’s not entirely mad. Louis waves her off and gets into the midfielder position in the centre of the pitch, where all the other girls are waiting. These next two hours are dedicated to practicing and practicing alone.

However, devoting one last minute to their prior conversation, Louis considers Niall’s point. If Harry hadn’t asked Louis to be her fake girlfriend, maybe she would have finally done the deed? Confessed her sins. But she can’t now. If she says what she feels, and Harry takes it badly and decides not to talk to her for a while, then Harry will be back to facing those creepy guys on her own.

Until Louis knows that Harry doesn’t need her help anymore, Louis can’t ruin what’s happening.

**

Hazza: Want to go to the diner later?

Louis: Yes please!

Hazza: Good, I have been craving their salad!

Louis: ...I am uninviting you

Hazza: You can’t uninvite me when I invited you in the first place

Louis: I can when you want to eat a salad

Hazza: Salads are good for you!

Louis: So are fish testicles but you don’t see me eating those

Hazza: I shouldn’t be surprised, and yet I still am

Louis: You love me

Hazza: I’ll never know why

Louis: But you do  

Hazza: Yeah Lou, I do. I really do.

What she should have been doing was her coursework, but all day Sunday, Louis relaxed. There were Youtube videos she wanted to catch up on, Instagram and Facebook posts she’d been dying to see, not to mention Tumblr. Her blog is her baby, where she can anonymously admit her love for her best friend. And it’s great to have something that no one else is a part of, it’s just for her.

And everyone else on the internet.

Once the clock on her phone finally changes from five to six, signalling the time they agreed to meet, Louis grabs her belongings and heads out. She’s in a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, uncaring about her attire when she’s just sitting with Harry at the diner. Truthfully, she hardly ever dresses up to begin with, and there’s a reason for that. Because who wants to spend precious time coordinating an outfit? Especially when the rooms on campus are always cold, so she would ruin her efforts by putting on a sweatshirt anyway. At least...that’s her excuse to justify her laziness.

“Lou, over here!”

Entering the restaurant, Harry calls over from their usual booth in the back. “Hey, I ordered tea for you already,” she continues, as Louis gets settled on the opposite seat.

“Brilliant, thanks.”

“So what did you do all day?”

Louis laughs, “Not a fucking thing. I’ll do my work tonight, I’m sure.”

Harry lifts her elbow up onto the table, and leans her head onto her hand, “You’re awful, you should go to bed early, and then you wouldn’t feel so tired all the time.”

“Haz, it’s not me that’s tired. My soul is tired, and that will never change no matter how much time I spend asleep.”

“Quoting Tumblr posts at me?”

“Instagram actually.”

A smirk lifts Harry’s lips, “Ah, should have known.”

Their waitress comes over suddenly, with water for Harry and tea for Louis, and continues to take the rest of their order before heading off again. With tea in hand, Louis can relax a little better as the warmth of the drink coats over her bones.

“So, what plan did you have for tomorrow,” Harry wonders.

“I...I don’t know? I was thinking about amping up our affection in front of them. Making it more obvious that we’re together?”

“That could work,” Harry nods, “Hopefully that guy already told the others that we’re together, and maybe they won’t bother me at all?” 

“Yeah, hopefully. Fucking dicks.”

“I know.”

Louis questions, “How did it even start?”

Sitting up straight again, in her spot, Harry looks down to inspect her fingers in avoidance, before giving in, as she starts. “It was only a few weeks ago when they were all grouped together, and one of them shouted at me about how low my shirt was buttoned,” Harry frowns, bringing her eyes back up to Louis’ and capturing her with their sadness. “I guess after seeing me get embarrassed and rush off, they decided to make it into a sort of game.”

“I want to skin them alive.”

“I’d prefer that you didn’t.”

“But Haz…” 

“No, it’s fine. We’ll do this on Monday, and that should be the end of it. If you don’t mind, I’d like for you to keep walking me to class, but other than that, this should all be over soon.”

“Monday and it’s done?”

“Monday and it’s done.”

If it really works as well as they hope, not only will they have gotten rid of those fools, but she could maybe tell Harry about her own feelings, too. That thought alone creates both nerves and thrill to flutter wildly within her stomach, spreading its energy within her veins. Her heart beats rapidly in tandem to her pulse, and she hopes it isn’t obvious when she covers the budding smile on her face, behind her palm. It’s just…it seems like forever, for her, that she has loved Harry, and she can’t fathom a world without her. And now the chance to finally tell her everything she feels is closer than she anticipated. Maybe as early as next weekend? It’s mind-blowing.

Feigning nonchalance, Louis answers Harry’s earlier statement, “That sounds good to me.”

“Me too.”

Despite the negative of having to see those guys again, Louis eagerly waits for tomorrow to arrive.

**

“Okay,” Harry prepares, as they near her class, “hold my hand, or maybe grab my back pocket?”

“Grab your bum?”

“Yeah.”

“You know,” Louis jokes, “I always make fun of couples who do that.”

Harry groans, with a teasing eye roll, “Come on, Lou. We’re trying to sell this.”

“Alright, alright,” Louis sighs, placing her right hand into Harry’s back pocket, so she’s touching directly over her cheek. She does everything in her power not to grip onto the soft flesh that lies just beneath her yearning fingertips.

“Now we’re ready,” Harry smiles.

With Harry leading them both, their steps seem to grow louder as Louis’ anxiety increases. She tries to look at the ground, focus on the pavement rather than look up to face what’s coming. She doesn’t feel courageous at this moment, she feels afraid, because what if this goes wrong? What if this goes horribly wrong?

“You good, Lou?”

Harry is concerned, there’s no question about it, as her pensive expression clouds Louis’ view, but she doesn’t voice her concern. Instead, she ignores Harry’s ability to make her tell the truth. “I’m fine,” she answers.

But fine is never really fine, and Harry knows it the moment it’s said.

“There she is, lads. And look, she’s brought her friend again.”

Louis bites her lip, causing it to bleed from how hard she’s restraining herself from doing anything Harry wouldn’t like. Instead, she leans in even closer to her friend and thinks about nothing else but her smooth skin, her soft hair, and how she never fails to smell like fresh baked, vanilla cupcakes.

Another guy’s voice is heard, somewhere in the distance of Louis’ mind, “Oi, I saw them together at the party, but I don’t think they’re actually a thing. Just trying to fuck with us, yeah?”

Biting her lip even harder, Louis boils with anger, but she’s not the one who ultimately breaks their agreement and acts out. No, not her.

Fingers meet her face, as Harry’s hands turn Louis to face her completely. Temporarily, Louis is confused, utterly perplexed, especially when a pair of dry lips come crashing into her own. There’s a second of hesitation on her part, wondering if it’s really happening or if it’s all a dream, but then she awakens into the touch. Pushing gently against Harry, Louis kisses her shamelessly. She takes her time, learning every bend and curve that folds against her, showing her appreciation for Harry in the way that she kisses back.

It’s an ebb and flow, a give and take of their desires, causing Louis’ entire body to glow like a star.

And it’s absolutely devastating because it’s all for show.

When their lips part, Harry eagerly shouts over Louis’ shoulder, “Believe me now, arseholes?”

The point is made, and while the guys look jealous as all fucking hell, they don’t respond. They’ve given up. They’ve actually given up. This is her chance. This is finally her chance to prove to Harry that this could be so much more, that they could be so much more. And with this kiss, maybe it’s proof that Harry feels something for her, after all? She wouldn’t kiss her that way otherwise, right? With such passion. With such intensity. With such want.

Louis’ mind is a jumble of proclamations of love, of ways to convince Harry to date her, of how to even admit her feelings to begin with, when the sharpest of needles pops the dream she’s created.

“Oi!”

Oh no.

Niall’s mouth is agape as she runs over, “Harry, Louis! Fuck, am I high, or were you two just snogging the fucking shit out of each other?”

“Uh,” Louis utters, completely unsure on how to answer. In a panic, she turns to Harry to respond.

“Erm, yeah. About that Ni,” Harry begins, but is cut off before she can explain.

“Oh shit, it’s true! Fuck, I knew you two would finally get your shit together. I knew it! Wow, I’m so happy for you both, congrats! I can’t wait to tell Li and Zayn about this.”

Louis calls out, “Wait Niall…”

“I gotta run, sorry Lou,” she waves, as she rushes in her retreat, “Talk to you two lovebirds later!”

And fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

Harry’s mouth is wide open in shock, and Louis can relate. What the hell just happened? What the fucking hell just happened?

“So,” Harry slowly drawls out, “Niall...Niall’s going to tell them we’re dating.”

“Fucking shit.”

“Erm Lou?”

“Hm?” 

“Why don’t we…” Harry reddens, as she asks, “Why don’t we let her?” 

Louis balks, “What?” 

“Why don’t we let her think that? Let’s just keep up with this and...”

“You want us to lie to our friends?”

“I just, yeah? I think it’ll be easier this way. Now, when I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend, or need you close to me at bars and parties, it won’t look so strange to them. Or anyone for that matter,” Harry explains. 

“But…”

When Louis hesitates, Harry’s nerves are evident as she interrupts with, “It was a stupid thought, sorry.”

“I mean,” Louis exhales, as she caves, “I guess I see your point. I just hate that we’re lying.”

“Worst comes to worst, we tell them that we think we’re better off as friends, and say we broke up, but it’s amicable.”

“I suppose that could work.”

“Yeah?” Harry says, hopefully.

“Yeah, fuck it. Alright. But no families! I’m serious Haz, I don’t want our families to know.”

Harry crosses over her heart, “No families, got it.”

The smile that presents itself to her, from Harry’s lips, is incredible. It makes her dimples deepen, tempting Louis with their shape. It’s beautiful, it always has been, and it always will be. But once again, it’s painted in friendship, it’s stitched platonically across her face, and Louis suffers utterly at the sight.

Because, fuck, there goes her chance of finally admitting anything at all.

**  

The rest of the week, she spends in a daze. She walks Harry to class in the mornings and spends the rest of her time getting bombarded with questions from their friends about when, where, why and how, she and Harry finally got together. All the texts are left unanswered, because what can she possibly say? When they’re hanging out, it’s harder to deflect, but she’s managed alright so far. Zayn and Liam are thrilled to not be the only couple in the group anymore, and Niall is just happy that all her friends are in love.

Harry also seems delighted.

While all this has negatively affected Louis, Harry seems to revel in it. When people mention how cute the two girls are together, Harry leans in closer, while Louis leans away. Sometimes, Harry goes to grab her hand unconsciously as they walk, and Louis has to pull them apart. Every time she needs a second to herself, Harry is there in some way or another. Either physically, or by phone, reaching out to her, as if aware that she is trying to pull away.

In any other circumstances, she would have been happy for all these changes. But she’s not.

Because every touch is a reminder of what she doesn’t actually have. Every glance is a question of what it actually entails. Every moment that Harry is reaching out, wanting her, needing her, she has to pretend like she isn’t a million percent ready to give Harry whatever she wants, whatever she needs. She has to pretend that it isn’t the one thing she wishes for most, and though it’s being presented to her, it’s with illusion and deceit. It’s like a masquerade, where Harry comes forth dressed in all the allure of something more, but underneath the mask, she’s still only a friend. Her best friend.

It sucks. It entirely sucks.

Ni: Don’t forget about the club tomorrow!

The new text pops up on Louis’ phone, as she riffles through textbook pages, attempting to work, while she has nothing to do.

Louis: I don’t feel like going

Ni: Not a choice

Louis: Why are you so cruel? 

Ni: Because you deserve it  

Louis: Mean

Ni: Am I going to have to tell Harry?

Louis: I wear the pants in this relationship

Ni: LMFAO THE BIGGEST LIE I HAVE EVER HEARD!

Ni: I just peed a little from how hard I was laughing

Louis: Fuck off

Ni: You’re a lovesick puppy. It’s alright, happens to the best of us

Ni: Except me.

Ni: Cause I don’t love anyone rn

Ni: Except the person who created tacos

Ni: fuck i love this taco

Louis: You realise you’re talking to yourself, right?

Ni: The only person I can count on

Louis: I take offense to that

Ni: If you go to the club with me tomorrow, maybe I’d reconsider

Louis: Brat

Ni: Oh...looks like I have no best friend now either

Louis: FINE but I will murder you if it sucks. Murder!

Ni: There are worse things. See you tomorrow

Louis: Brat

Ni: <3

The entire reason Louis doesn’t want to go to the club, is because she knows that Harry is going to rely on her. Not to mention that, with their friends around, they’re going to have to really play up the part of being girlfriends. Louis hanging around Harry when she’s sober is hard enough, but add alcohol into the mix? That’s a pathway towards destruction that she doesn’t want to go down. Unfortunately, she also doesn’t see it as being avoidable. Niall will force her to take shots, she will get drunk enough to drink more, and Harry’s seductive ways will surely end her for good.

It’s a disaster waiting to happen.

**

“I can’t believe Niall fucking got us into this club,” Zayn shouts into Louis’ ear, as they enter the place. Meandering through the doors, the bass of the music, blasting from the speakers, absorbs the group as they come in. It’s all encompassing, drumming chaotically into Louis.

“I know, holy shit,” Louis replies.

The club itself is dark, except for the few strobe lights that flash around the room, different colors shining against the shadows. A dancefloor lies in the middle, booths surround the floor like a wall, and the bar is at the very back. The entire room is decorated with a speakeasie sort of vibe and Louis is actually eager to be here. At least some small part of her is.

“Oi,” Niall shouts, “let’s get to the booths and start drinking!”

Everyone, aside from Louis, cheers at the declaration. Don’t drink. Don’t drink. Don’t drink. It’s not going to end well if she does. Who knows what she’ll say? Who knows what her intoxicated mind will want? Will ask for? Who knows what she’s capable of doing when Harry is practically giving her the chance, to take whatever she wants, even though it’s entirely false.

“Hey,” Harry comes to Louis’ side, appearing to have caught Louis’ hesitancy, “You alright?”

“I...yeah. I’m good,” Louis lies.

Harry’s brows furrow, wanting to ask more but being kept from doing so, as a waiter brings a round of shots over to their table. Louis tells herself just this one. Just this one shot, and then she can be good for the rest of the night. Just this one shot, and she won’t fuck all of this up for them.

Just one.

Niall raises her glass up for a toast, the rest of the girls following suit, “Here’s to tonight you beautiful bitches! Let’s get fucked, literally, and figuratively!”

“Says the person who doesn’t want to have sex,” Louis teases.

Niall cackles heartily, “You’re such a shit, but true. Let me rephrase - let’s get you all fucked, literally, and figuratively!” Everyone cheers as Niall screams, “Drink!”

The whiskey burns as it soaks into her throat, but it’s not enough to cover the ache in her heart. When Harry watches her curiously, her green galaxies leave their heavy burden on her shoulders, but she runs her hands over her face to ignore it. She can do this. She can be flirty and have fun with Harry, without it meaning anything, tonight. She can make it through this. She can. 

“Lou? Want to dance?” Harry asks.

Okay...maybe not.

**

Every song that blasts through the speakers, is made louder by Louis and Harry singing along. They scream at the top of their lungs, in the centre of the dancefloor, letting the music wash them clean of their worries. She feels renewed, invigorated, liberated. And that might be because she had another drink. Or more like two. Well, really five. 

Okay, she had seven. Seven total drinks. And she’s feeling fucking lit.

“Lou, they’ve been playing the best songs,” Harry squeals, from in front of her. Though they went down to dance together, they’ve been maintaining a safe distance away from each other, swaying their arms and hips like they used to do, when they were just friends, a few inches apart. Because that’s what they are - just friends.

“Tell me about it. Rihanna's songs always have me feeling some kind of way,” Louis giggles. Harry’s eyebrows raise at that, and an odd expression crawls onto her face, shadowing her happiness with something darker, hungrier. Is that interest? Is it lust? No, Louis concludes. No, Harry would never look at me like that.

“What do you mean?” Harry wonders aloud, watching Louis’ mouth intensely as she responds.

“I don't know? Just…she gets me all hot and bothered. Her voice is like pure sex,” she shamelessly admits, biting into her bottom lip to emphasise her point.

“So you’re feeling that now?” Harry inches closer, though Louis is unaware.

“Fuck yes! Rihanna is hot, her songs are hot. I am definitely feeling it.”

Harry gulps, visibly gulps, like it’s hard for her to swallow. Louis continues dancing ignorantly, until Harry purrs, “Lou.”

“Hm?”

“Dance with me,” Harry murmurs, almost too low for Louis to hear.

“I am,” Louis laughs.

“No, closer.”

Closer.

Closer.

Electricity zaps up Louis’ spine, the request causing tiny explosions in Louis’ heart, like pop rocks on her tongue. “What?”

Lifting her fingers onto Louis’ hips, Harry tugs her against the swell of her chest, “Closer,” she repeats.

If she was sober, she’d back away. She’d leave this, before it becomes something more, something Harry definitely doesn’t want. If Harry was sober, she wouldn’t even be asking. She must be drunker than Louis to be proposing this, and Louis is only human. There’s only so much resisting she can do, before she crumbles completely.

“Harry.”

Hands are suddenly gripping her tighter, arms are closing in. Rihanna is singing above them, to them, through them, and Louis can’t do it. She can’t deny it. When Harry’s mouth comes near her neck, to rest there as she breathes, Louis gives in to her darkest desires and grinds her hips into Harry’s.

The reaction is immediate. One single word trails a tantalizing moan into Louis’ ear, “Fuck.”

An inferno of arousal pools in her stomach, bubbling with a need for so much more than she dares to ask. But at the very least Harry wants this dance, and she can’t say no.

Brushing up against Harry again, she is surprised by the push back from Harry’s own hips.

I've been everywhere, man
Looking for someone
Someone who can please me
Love me all night long
I've been everywhere, man
Looking for you babe
Looking for you babe
Searching for you babe

It’s filthy, the way Louis takes control. Grinding and rotating and rolling her body into Harry, with carnal thoughts guiding her moves. She wants Harry to remember this. Remember the way Louis feels right now, pressed up against her, dancing on her, wanting her. She wants Harry to remember every touch of their bodies, like lightning crashing into clouds, the sexual tension between them alighting their senses. She wants Harry to remember it all.

So she goes all out.

Three more songs come and go, but Louis and Harry stay glued together. Their sweat is glistening on them, making them shine, as if embedded with diamonds, under the flashing lights. Harry looks ethereal, Louis can’t breathe, and for the entire time, Harry has kept as close to her, as she has kept to Harry. For the entire time, Harry’s hands have only gripped harder in their place, and for the entire time, Harry’s eyes washed over her with a haunting thirst, that she would be more than happy to quench - if things were different.

“Louis, you’re so beautiful,” Harry confides against her skin.

It’s more than she can handle hearing, so she attempts to keep it light-hearted, “My god Haz, you’re way more drunk than I thought you were.”

Harry, however, doesn’t seem to like that, as her hands tighten to stop Louis from dancing, and turn her around to face her. There’s an unpleasant pout catching Harry’s mouth, “Lou, I’m not...I’m not-”

“It’s alright,” Louis interjects. “You don’t have to apologise.”

“I’m not,” Harry answers, “I really think that. I really think you’re beautiful.”

Overload. System overload. System fucking overload.

“Haz.”

Harry doesn’t try to prove her point by arguing anymore. Instead, her brows scrunch in concentration, as her face leans in. Louis mistakes it as Harry wanting to whisper something to her, or maybe a playful kiss on the cheek, like  they’ve done in the past. But in the middle of Harry’s journey, she realises all too quickly what the target is, and it’s not her cheeks.

It’s her lips.

“Oh,” Louis steps out of the embrace, “Wow, I’m not feeling well. I think I need to go to the loo.”

“Wait,” Harry urges.

“See you in a bit,” Louis calls over her shoulder, as she scampers off.

What just fucking happened? What actually just fucking happened?

Louis has no idea what that was all about. Why did it seem like Harry was trying to kiss her? Maybe Louis is the one who is drunker than she thought, clearly misreading everything that occurred between them. Because there is no way that would happen. There is no way Harry would try to kiss her.

No.

**

What does she do when her entire world seems to be shifting?

She runs.

And she runs far. For miles. Past the point of exhaustion, past the point of comfort. She doesn’t care that it’s three in the morning, and she’s still a little drunk. She doesn’t care that she’s running in the black of night. She doesn’t care. At this moment, she needs a release. She needs to physically expel all the stress and thoughts and heartache from her body. Exterminate her sorrows. Running is the only way.

Two hours of pushing everything to the absolute back of her mind, of concerning herself with nothing but the silence that has shrouded the world, as the city seems frozen in time, of nothing but breathing - she finally stops and lays down on the ground. It’s just a random patch of grass, but the sun will be rising soon, and she needs a second to decompress. So she lays down and waits.

It comes carefully, the way the sunlight seeps into the canvas of the night. Mixing its colour, altering those dark hues to brighter shades. It’s unbelievable, and it’s reassuring. No matter what happens - days end and new days begin. There’s always a tomorrow. Always a chance to start anew, to start over, always an opportunity to begin again.

That’s what she needs to do, she needs to begin again.

Harry needs her as a friend more than ever, and she is being selfish by attempting to take more than that from her. All her feelings must subside, that’s the only way they can work. Once things are back to normal, then she can address what her heart has been beating for since they were kids. But not yet. Not now. Not today.

She has to put it all aside for Harry if she wants to help her in the end.

Chapter Text

“Hey, I wasn’t sure what you were in the mood for today, so I brought you black coffee; It’s iced,” Louis smiles, as she hands over a drink to a stunned Harry. The long-limbed girl had been walking out of her flat when Louis caught up to her on Monday morning. 

“Lou? What are you - what are you doing here?”

“Walking you to class? That’s what you wanted, right?” Louis asks, with a grin.

“Uh, I mean, yeah? But on Saturday you -”

“I wasn’t feeling good, I swear. I’m better now. Gotta stop letting Niall fill me up with whiskey.”

Harry sort of laughs, still unsure as to why Louis is there, and apparently, happy. “Yeah.”

“Did you do that assignment for our class tomorrow,” Louis attempts changing the subject, “Fuck, I tried to finish it last night, but I could not get my brain to work. It was awful.”

“Yeah, I did. Do you want to look at mine for some help?

“No it’s alright. I’ll finish it tonight after practice.”

Harry casually strolls alongside Louis, sipping her coffee, “You know Lou, I just want to...I want to say I’m sorry. If I upset you at all this past weekend, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Louis frowns at the apology, “Haz, I promise I’m fine. I love you, you’re my best friend. And girlfriend,” Louis winks, playfully.

“Right. Sometimes I forget about that, that we’re pretending.”

Did Harry just imply that she sometimes thinks they’re really dating? Or is she finally losing her mind? Either way, she can’t go there.

“We’re just close friends like that. Always have been.”

Harry smirks, “It is pretty crazy to think about the fact that you’ve been there for me since day one. Like, I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t there.”

“I’m sure it would have been fine.”

“Lou,” Harry asserts, “It may have been a lot of things, but it wouldn’t have been fine. Not without you.”

Thump. Thump. Thump. Her heart is erratic within her ribcage, beating incessantly in her chest. Friends. Just friends.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” Louis whispers, which causes a curious reaction from Harry.

“What, Lou?”

“Oh, nothing. We’re at your class anyway, and I should probably get ready for practice. Do you want me to pick you up too, or are you okay by yourself?” Louis asks.

“I think I’m alright today. No one’s bothered me so far.”

“Okay, talk to you later.”

Harry waves, “Bye, Lou.”

As she races back to her flat, she clutches at her chest. That was too close for comfort.

**

“I told you Z has the best connections. I don’t know why you never listen to me,” Liam snaps at Niall, as Louis joins them on the football field.

“What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing,” Liam answers. “Just wondering why Niall never believes me.”

“Niall doesn’t believe anything until it’s shoved in her face.”

“Oi,” Niall yells, “I’m standing right here you cow.”

“And?” Louis teases, “Is that supposed to stop me?”

Niall lunges forward and tackles Louis to the ground, while Liam stands above and groans, “Oh my God this happens every time, I swear I can’t take you two anywhere.”

Roughly, she tugs Niall from Louis’ body. Once they’re all standing again, their coach blows the whistle and instructs them to start their warm up. Niall and Louis move to the front, where they guide the team through their routine until they split up into two teams to play against one another. Throughout the practice, they’re learning new strategies, working on defense, and pushing their forwards. Louis needs them to be at their best for their upcoming games. 

Once the practice has reached its end, Niall yells, “Alright, go get some rest! Maybe eat a few burgers!”

“Good practice,” Louis adds.

“Hey,” Niall taps Louis’ arm, as they head to collect the balls, “I forgot to ask. Why’d you leave early on Saturday?”

“Oh,” Louis struggles, as she picks a ball off the ground, “Wasn’t feeling good.”

“You’re such a liar.”

Louis sighs, “I can’t tell you why, not yet.”

“Well is everything okay, at least?”

“I...I can’t answer that yet, either.”

Niall nods, her body language suggesting that she wants to push, but knows it’s best not to. “Okay,” she says instead. “Just know I’m here, whenever you’re ready to talk.”

Louis looks over, into the soothing aquamarine staring back at her, “I know Ni. I will.”

**

Routine returns naturally to her. She wakes up, she accompanies Harry to her classes, she goes to her footie practices, and she hangs out with her friends. Some days they all have a course together, some days she and Harry do their own thing. It’s easy. The next two weeks that pass are easy.

In that time, they have also become better at faking their relationship.

Hands are held nearly constantly, hugs are often given, and glances that speak a thousand words are shared everywhere in between. Their friends are happier than ever, and she… she is working on it. It could be worse, is what she reminds herself when she struggles. It could definitely be worse.

“God, what an awful class that was. I swear our Professor gets more boring each time,” Harry complains, once the group of girls has retreated from the lecture hall, on Thursday.

“Tell me about it,” Niall agrees. “I can barely stay awake.”

“Maybe if you slept, instead of playing video games all night, you wouldn’t be so tired,” Liam quips.

Zayn shakes her head at the banter.

“I’m just glad that it’s Thursday,” Louis chimes in to redirect the subject. “And tomorrow we have our next match, and I think we’ll beat them just as easily as we defeated that last team.”

Niall cheers, “We killed the last school! I can’t wait for tomorrow, I’m ready to win all the games this season, and take the championship this year!”

“Same, I’m looking forward to it too.” Liam adds, “But hey, I have to head to the library and get some work done, you girls doing anything now?”

“I’m heading back with Niall, to get some food,” Harry answers.

Louis shrugs, “Think I’m just going to head home.”

“I’ll come,” Zayn offers.

“Okay, I’ll see you later, love,” Liam smiles, as she presses a quick kiss to Zayn’s lips before running off towards the library. Even though it’s happened ever since the beginning of their relationship, Zayn still blushes at the public affection. “Alright, bye Li!”

Harry and Niall wave goodbye as they turn away, leaving Louis and Zayn to head home together.

“Hey, Louis?”

“Yeah?”

“I know I shouldn’t pry, but is something going on with you and Harry?”

“What do you mean?” Louis asks.

“It’s just,” Zayn pauses to calculate her answer, “You were literally obsessed with her. Waited years to finally be with her. Now you’re both together, and it’s like you’re afraid to do anything. I mean, you guys have your moments, but it’s not at all what I expected from you. I thought you’d be ravishing each other every second you could, whether we were there or not.”

Louis mocks, “Ravishing?”

Zayn slaps her lightly on the arm, “You know what I mean!”

“Yeah...I do,” Louis says, shrugging as she continues, “I think it’s just hard trying to figure ourselves out at the moment. Some elements are keeping me from, as you say, ravishing her.”

“Are you two good though?”

“I don’t know? Sort of?”

Taking in the information, Zayn nods her head, “Well I hope you work through whatever it is that’s in your way. I know you two are meant to be together, I can sense it.”

Louis huffs, “Sometimes the things we want are not also the things we need.”

“Are you reciting Tumblr poetry at me, or do you want to sound like that? Like you already think it’s going to be over.”

“I don’t think anything, Z.” Louis sighs.

“Then maybe you need to. Start having some faith, Lou.”

Is that really all she needs? To start having faith? Maybe if they were actually girlfriends, but not in this scenario. This is something entirely different. Leaning her body into Zayn’s in a playful manner, Louis smiles anyway, “You always have the best advice. But enough about that, let’s get some ice cream before we head back. I need some mint choc chip.”

Zayn rolls her eyes, but grins, “Fine, but you’re paying.”

Louis laughs, “What else is new?”

**

“So next weekend is Halloween,” Harry begins, as they read their textbooks in Louis’ room. They had decided to study together, for an upcoming exam, but the only thing Louis has studied, for the past hour, is the shape of Harry’s lips. Damn.

“Yeah…” Louis replies.

“We should dress up as something.”

“Harry, we always dress up.”

Harry stares at Louis sassily, “Obviously. I mean like us doing a couples costume.”

“Oh,” Louis drags out, “I hadn’t thought about it.”

“So is that a yes?”

“Sure, why not? It sounds like you’ve already been thinking about this. Did you come up with anything?”

“Maybe…” Harry teases.

“Oh god, what do you want to do?”

“Tarzan and Jane.” Harry says, grinning.

Louis snorts, “You’re Tarzan.”

“Duh.”

“I’m not wearing a dress.” Louis states.

“Wouldn’t expect you to.”

“So that’s really what you want?”

Harry bites her pencil as she answers, “I just think it kind of suits us. And we already did the whole Peter Pan thing last year, with everyone.”

“Niall was an amazing Tinker Bell.”

“That she was, throwing glitter on literally everyone that passed us.”

Louis giggles at the recollection, “Took me weeks to wash it out of my hair.”

“I still haven’t washed it all out.”

Laughter flutters into their conversation freely, and once it dies down, Louis complies, “Alright, I’ll be Jane. Is it just us?”

“Yeah, I didn’t even say anything to the others. I think Niall has something she wants to do, and Zayn and Liam are probably going to be something no one else will understand, so yeah.”

“Oh god, remember trying to get Zayn to be Tiger Lily, and Liam to be a Lost Boy? They refused because they wanted to be an actual couple.”

“Yeah,” Harry shakes her head, “They wanted to be something strange too.” 

“Yes! It had to do with some kind of tones or whatever? Zayn was going to make it paint related.”

“Zayn looked good as Tiger Lily,” Harry smirks.

“She looked so good! Liam couldn’t keep her hands off her, so they should thank us really.”

Harry nods in agreement, “Totally. I mean we literally shoved those outfits onto them, even though they refused, but still,” Harry snarkily continues, “They should thank us.”

Louis giggles, “I plead the fifth.”

“I was there.”

“You have no proof.” Louis defends.

“I have my eyes.”

“Nope,” Louis continues her defiance.

Lunging forward, Harry tickles Louis painfully, causing her to cry out, “I surrender! I surrender!”

“Not until you say I’m right.”

Louis talks through her struggle, “There’s nothing to be right about, ah fuck!”

This only makes Harry go harder, “I don’t care.”

“Fuck! You’re right. You’re right! Now stop you fool!”

Panting heavily, Harry finally relents, laying on top of Louis as they both try to catch their breath. “You’re so mean to me, Hazza,” Louis grumbles.

“You deserve it sometimes.”

Scoffing at the comment, Louis shoves Harry on the shoulder, “Rude.”

“But you love me.”

“I don’t know,” Louis teases.

Harry pouts innocently, her green eyes utilizing their power to make Louis submit. “Ugh, fine. I love you, now come cuddle me, you made me tired.”

Louis hears light chuckles as Harry settles herself on her chest, laying her head on top of Louis’ heart. Harry squeezes, a little needily, on her hips, and as the quiet around them settles, she hears Harry say, “I love you, too. Always.”

She wants to cry because it’s believable. So believable. So close to convincing her that Harry means what she says, that it’s not just friendly love, it’s real love. Real and everlasting and true. And while it’s so close, so painfully close - it’s just a bit too far out of reach. As always.  

**

Days continue to pass with Louis in a slump. She’s performing well in her football matches, she’s performing well academically, but something is dragging her down, everywhere she goes. This thing has suctioned itself to her body and weighs her down every time she tries to move. Every time she tries to do anything, and it’s even worse when Harry’s around.

But as with everything else in her life, right now, she creates an illusion of normalcy.

Halloween arrives, and the five girls are in Louis and Zayn’s flat, getting themselves dressed for the night. Louis’ outfit is the easiest, a pair of maroon leggings, and a tan tank top, are all she needs to complete the look. She’s also borrowing Harry’s journal to carry around with her, with pictures of gorillas inside for authenticity.

As for the others, Niall is dressing up in a cow onesie, which no one understands, and Zayn and Liam are doing Batgirl and Catwoman, which everyone understands. And, obviously, Harry is Tarzan. As the evening progresses, Niall is ready at the same time as Louis, with Li and Zayn the next to be done, a little while after. When they come out, the two of them together look a little too good, in Louis’ opinion, a little too perfect in their latex costumes, as they kiss each other freely, and hold hands.

Okay… She is envious of their relationship. Sue her.

Harry is the last to leave the bathroom, and when she does, the world stalls. Or at least, Louis’ world stalls. Raking her eyes over the costume, Harry is in the smallest amount of clothing possible, a short, brown skirt, made to look like the burlap Tarzan wears, and a matching brown wrap for her chest. Her curls are unruly, as they flow down her back, and her skin looks flawless. She wants to touch it for herself, taste every inch that’s exposed, and see if it feels as smooth against her tongue, as it looks in real life. It’s too much.

“Wow, Haz, you look -”

“Fucking amazing,” Niall completes.

“Yeah,” Zayn adds, “You look hot.”

Crimson colours her cheeks, as she bashfully replies, “Thank you! You all look amazing, too. And Lou...simple but effective, yeah?”

“Wouldn’t want to outshine your gorgeous self.”

Harry beams at the compliment, and Louis wants to tell her more, to see her flush, and squirm, but Niall shouts that the Uber is here, and it’s best that she doesn’t say anything, anyway. Anything coming out of her mouth would just give away how obviously obsessed she is. So yes, staying silent is key.

Ten minutes, and one crazy car ride later, they arrive at the party, and it’s already out of control. It seems that everyone from their university is here - drinking, dancing, fucking - and it’s happening all around them. Louis senses the need to be on guard for Harry, to ensure her safety, which moves her to grab the girl’s hand.

However, Harry doesn’t seem to want that, “It’s alright, Lou. You don’t have to watch over me for the whole night. I’ll find you if I need you.”

Louis tilts her head in confusion, “You don’t want to stay together?”

“I mean, I know you probably don’t want to, so it’s alright.”

“Harry, I -”

“Find you a bit,” she cuts off, heading to some girls that are waving her over, in the living room. Louis watches jealously, wanting nothing more than to have Harry’s attention solely on her. Instead, she moves to the kitchen to take whatever is in sight. Good thing none of her friends are around, they might be concerned that she’s trying to make herself sick with what she’s about to do. Which is definitely not the goal.

No, the goal is to consume enough alcohol to drown her feelings for Harry. She’s pretty sure she can do it, but there’s only one way to know for sure.

Drink.

**

Louis is a wreck. Niall found her at some point and begged her to go home, but she refused. Liam and Zayn made similar efforts, advising her to drink some water, but she told them no. She wasn’t being stupid, she was being smart. Smart by drinking away her problems, because that’s how it works, right? Except, drinking only made her acutely aware of everything Harry was and is doing, so now she’s drunk, alone, and still obsessing over Harry.

Great.

As she mopes, she wishes that she could be the kind of person that didn’t care. That she could shut off her emotions whenever she saw fit. But she’s can’t. If anything, she’s got too many emotions that she can’t control, whatsoever. Too many that smother her heart, and make her do stupid things. Like drinking excessively. Someday, she’s going to figure out the way to stop feeling, but that day is not today, and it’s most likely not tomorrow, either.

“Lou?”

Drunk Louis hears Harry’s voice, and twirls on the spot to face her instantly, “Yeah?”

Harry’s hair has settled a bit, since the last time they were together, but she still looks effortless, hours later. Tucking her strands behind her ear, Harry scrunches her nose as she sniffs, before talking, “I, uh. Well, some guys are bothering me a little, and I just want to dance, but they won’t back off. Would you maybe come and dance with me?”

“You want me to dance with you?”

“Yeah.”

War flashbacks of the last time they danced enter her mind, and if she were sober it’d be a no. It would be a fast and easy no. But she’s drunk, way too drunk, and Drunk Louis has been pining after Harry all night, hoping for a moment like this. Drunk Louis is going to do the exact opposite of what she should.

“Okay.”

The minute they find room on the crowded dance floor, Louis goes right to work. Not hesitating for even a second, she reels Harry into her and dances against the other girl’s body with the same enthusiasm as last time. Harry seems affected by the move, at least that’s what Louis thinks. She’s almost certain she can see it, in the way Harry’s mouth parts, the way her eyes focus on all the places where their bodies connect. She even thinks she sees it in the way Harry’s hands grab onto her, with absolutely no intention of letting go, and, especially, in the way everything about her is sort of feral. Like she’s hunting Louis down, one calculated second at a time.

Louis is being selfish, she knows this. She’s taking advantage of Harry needing her, to get what she wants. She wants to attract Harry, she wants to provoke Harry enough to do something. Though all her efforts are honestly wasted, since Harry is straight, but Drunk Louis has hope! Because right here, there’s a reaction. It may be caused by the vibe of this party, or because weed and alcohol are fogging their brains, but it exists.

Plus, the night has a funny way of making people do things they wouldn’t do during the day.

Not concerning herself with tomorrow, she commits to the present. And in the present, their dancing goes on forever. At least, that’s what it seems like. Her skin is drenched with sweat, her tank top is sticking to her frame, and her mouth is absolutely parched. But she’s not stopping, not until Harry tells her to. So they dance, and dance, and dance the night away, never straying from their sides, never diverging away - not even to lift a finger.

Completely and utterly attached.

Eventually, Niall finds them, to tell them it’s time to go, and reluctantly they peel themselves apart. Harry must comprehend her disappointment, because she resolves the problem of separation by gripping back onto Louis’ hand, holding her tightly within her grasp. Louis is satisfied, and while they haven’t actually said anything to each other in a long time, it’s comfortable. Whatever this thing is, that is transpiring between them, it’s comfortable.

Once the five girls have collected themselves, they head out to the Uber waiting for them. By the end of the night, Niall’s onesie is the only costume to have remained entirely intact. The latex of Liam and Zayn’s costumes have ripped in a few places, and Louis’ leggings have acquired a hole. And while Harry’s burlap is together, it’s barely holding on. Louis’ pretty proud that she’s to blame for that.

After climbing into the car, and a few minutes spent with sharing memories of the night, Liam is dropped off first, with Zayn trailing along to stay the night. Niall is next, winking playfully at Harry and Louis, as she tells them to use protection, before exiting the car. The girls laugh, moving closer in the back seat, now that they’re alone.

“Hey, Haz?”

Harry hums, from where she’s resting her head against Louis’ shoulder, “Hm?”

“Want to spend the night?”

“Sure, Lou.”

When the car comes to a halt, they carefully untangle as they depart the vehicle. Louis leads them to the door, unlocking the entrance to the building, and takes them up to the second floor. It’s dark inside, and she would usually be quick to turn on the lights, but something about this feels more intimate within the shadows. She doesn’t have to try so hard to hide the emotions transparent on her face.

“Let’s go to bed,” Harry murmurs.

They make their way to Louis’ bedroom, and take off their outfits, before shuffling together under the sheets. Louis cuddles up to Harry, who leaves her arm open for Louis to slide over. It’s times like this where the line of friendship is immensely blurred. How does she decipher this? This isn’t platonic, this isn’t friendly cuddling. Harry is rubbing her thumb on her shoulder, and Louis is rubbing her own into Harry’s laurel tattoo on her hip. They’re breathing each other in, inhaling and exhaling, until what defines Harry and what defines Louis mesh together, making it impossible to tell them apart. Until they’re one in the same. Harry and Louis. Louis and Harry.

In the darkness, a name is spoken, “Lou?”

“Hm?”

“What’s it,” Harry pauses, waits, until on an exhale the rest of the question comes out, “What’s it like to kiss a girl?”

Louis stiffens at the ask, “Uh, don’t you remember?”

Harry’s laugh is pure, as it quietly escapes, “Yeah, but both times before were rushed, and we did it as an act of rebellion. I’m talking about a real kiss.”

“Why? You feel like you’re missing out or something?”

There’s a stretch of hesitation, and Louis is terrified she crossed a line somewhere along the way until a quiet answer is muttered, “Maybe.”

Louis gulps, loud enough for the whole world to hear. Trying to keep calm about this conversation, she confides in Harry, what she’s curious to know, “Honestly? It feels wonderful, Haz. Softer than any kiss with a guy, and just - more passionate, intimate. You just know there’s more care in the way the person is kissing you, like they want you to enjoy it, as much as they’re enjoying it. Not saying guys are bad, and not saying all girls kiss the same way, but at least from my experience, guys are selfish kissers, while girls are caring.”

Harry listens intently. “Oh. Lou?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you...can you show me?”

“Show you what?” Louis asks, confused.

“What it feels like to kiss a girl.”

Can you show me what it feels like to kiss a girl. To kiss a girl. Girl. Girl. Girl. Louis’ heart is a galaxy collapsing in on itself, ready for rebirth. She’s alive, renewed, awakened. And she’s terrified as fucking shit about ruining this.

“You really want that?”

“Yeah,” Harry affirms, “I do.”

Louis swallows, “And with me?”

“Only with you,” Harry whispers.

Louis must be dreaming, there’s no other explanation for this turn of events. There’s no other way to justify what is happening, right now, in her room. Rather than try to analyse it, she prepares herself, ready to give Harry anything she wants. Slowly, she sits up, out of Harry’s grip, and turns over, so that she’s on her knees, hovering above Harry. There’s a pause, a moment to give Harry a chance to say no, to stop what’s about to happen, but Harry just looks desperately up at her, urging her on.

Okay, this is actually happening.

Gentle hands find their way onto Harry’s cheeks, and timidly, Louis inches down to her mouth. Their eyes connect in the darkness, Harry’s burning bright, even in the blanket of night. She can’t help getting distracted at the sight, but when Harry looks up at her like she might cry from the wait, Louis gives in and dips down in a rush, laying her lips softly onto Harry. Her best friend. The love of her life.

It’s tentative at first, both unsure which way to go, unsure how far to push. Louis presses her thumb reassuringly into Harry’s cheeks and takes the lead. Every glide is smooth, every shift is done with purpose, pressing into her with all the wanton need, that’s built up like a dam, for all these years. Harry comes apart, compliant underneath her, as she allows the girl to do as she pleases. Louis revels in the power, taking control as she pries open Harry’s mouth, and finally feels the warmth against her hungry tongue. Harry moans into Louis’ lungs, when she pulls the ends of Harry’s hair, just a little too hard, and it’s enough to kill her. The sound is more than she could have ever anticipated and it’s glorious.

Everything in this moment is glorious.

Time is nonexistent. Desperate mouths discover one another, seeking all the places that feel best, finding all the places that react best. Harry is a shaking mess, and Louis keeps taking and taking - wrecking her as much as possible. She should stop now, she’s done more than Harry’s asked for, but it’s too satisfying to stop. Everything she has ever wanted is practically within her grasp. It might be wrapped in a beautiful bow of lies, but it’s closer than it’s ever been, and how can she say no? How can she find the strength to pull herself away?

“Lou.”

The answer is that she can’t, but thankfully, she doesn’t have to.

“Yeah?”

Their chests are pressed together, her lips are barely above Harry’s, and her hands are everywhere. She wants to keep going, she never wants to stop, not until she’s cured her addiction of Harry for good.

“That was...wow.”

“Yeah,” Louis coughs, pulling herself away, “So uh, that’s what it’s like.”

Harry asks innocently, possibly a little sadly, “That’s what it’s like when you kiss other girls?”

No, Louis thinks, because she’s never had a kiss sink deep into her soul, and light her entire heart on fire. That’s what it’s like kissing Harry. Only Harry.

“Yeah, sort of.”

“That was,” Harry pauses, to contemplate what to say, “Nice. Really, really nice.”

“Yeah, it was. But...we should probably get some sleep.”

“Right.”

“Right.”

Harry adjusts herself in her spot again, “Goodnight Lou.”

Louis wipes at the tears, that start to form in her eyes, “Goodnight Hazza.”

Laying there as the silence settles, releasing the room from the thick tension of before, Louis thinks to herself, is it worse knowing what it’s like to kiss Harry, knowing she’ll never get to again? Or is it worse not knowing at all? She can’t decide, but her heart hurts either way.

**

The first of November is cold.

The air is cold. The flat is cold. The other side of the bed is cold.

Waking up alone is cold.

Louis stays in her bed all day, not wanting to risk the feel of the chill that’s seeped into their flat. Zayn has told Louis, multiple times at this point, that she’s a baby and overly dramatic, but she can’t help it. She’s upset at life and hates the brisk weather that Winter brings. The only thing she’s looking forward to this month is the footie championship in a few days. Otherwise, everything else is awful.

Ring. Ring.

“Hello?”

“Louis?”

Typically, her Mum waits for her to call at night when she’s ready. Not in the middle of the day, and not in such a concerned manner that has her immediately worried, “Yeah, Mum?”

Suddenly, there’s screaming, “Why didn’t you tell me, you muppet!”

“Wha- what?”

Her Mum’s tone becomes cross, “Don’t lie to me.”

“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’re dating Harry.”

And what? How? Where did she get this information from?

“How did you-?”

She cuts Louis off quickly, “The more important question is, why didn’t you tell me yourself? Why did I have to see Niall posting a photo on Facebook, to have to find out that my daughter is dating Harry.”

Niall.

“I...I don’t know what to say? It’s not really like that, to be honest,” Louis hedges.

“Why are you lying?”

“I’m not Mum,” Louis argues, “It’s complicated. I’m not sure what Niall put up there, but it’s...it’s just complicated, alright? That’s why I didn’t say anything.”

“Anne already called me, yelling with joy. We’ve been waiting a long time for you two to figure out your shit.”

“Mum! Language! And I’ve always known that I love Harry.”

“Oi, who’s the parent here, yeah? And trust me, I know that, I’m not an idiot, but you never said anything, just sat there pining away.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“It’s true. I would watch you attach yourself to Harry’s side the minute she’d come over, and if any of your sisters even thought of talking to her while she was here, they were yelled at,” her Mum giggles over the phone. “You were always possessive of her. I thought it was just because you were young, and Harry was like your shiny new toy, but when you became teenagers, and it didn’t get any better, I realized there was more to it than that.”

“Harry’s always been different for me.”

“You’re so lucky that you found your soulmate at such a young age, boo bear.”

“You think Harry’s my soulmate?” Louis asks, hopefully.

“I reckon so. Like you said, it’s always been different with her. I doubt you’ll find anyone else who makes you feel even half of what she does. You’ve always had something special.”

A warmth coats over Louis at the thought of that. Of Harry being her soulmate. “Anne wasn’t upset? I always thought she wanted Harry to marry a guy.”

“You know that Anne is even more accepting than I am. She just thought that was what Harry wanted, but she’s talked to me a few times. Even before this happened, she would mention how, when you two were younger, she always thought you’d end up together. Though, when Harry started hanging out with boys, she accepted that too.”

“I see.”

“Boo?”

“Hm?”

“I know you said things are complicated, but I have faith you’ll work it out. You girls always do.”

Louis really wishes she could hug her Mum right now, but the words are enough to hold her over, until she’s back during the break, in a month. “Thanks, Mum,” she says, instead.

“I’ve got to run, but call me sometime this week.”

“Will do.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Despite not wanting their families to know, the call went better than she expected. She’s not surprised by the response. Throughout their childhood, there had always been massive support from their Mums with regard to how close they were. There was never any conversation about them being too close, or that it wasn’t right when they would hug all the time or share kisses. It obviously hadn’t meant anything to Harry, but, to her, it had. She always meant everything she did for Harry.

Pulling open her messages, Louis sends a text.

Louis: Guess our families know now

Hazza: It would seem so

Louis: What should we do about it?

Fifteen minutes pass with no response. Louis comes to the conclusion that Harry’s not getting back to her on that, and wallows in her misery. However, before putting her phone away for good, she looks at one last thing. Opening up Facebook, she goes to her notifications, where it tells her that Niall has tagged her in one photo.

Oh great.

When the screen opens up, Louis’ mouth drops open. She’s draped over Harry’s body, their costumes slightly askew, their hair a little frazzled, and their smiles a little too bright. It’s clear they’re drunk, but that’s not even the worst part. Aside from the fact that Louis doesn’t know how Niall managed to get the photo, what’s startling is what the picture tells. Very obviously, Louis is staring into Harry’s eyes, with all the longing and love she can muster. But it’s Harry, who’s pictured staring back, with just as much emotion, that drives Louis insane with questions.

Harry, who is looking at Louis, with an identical expression of love.

What does this mean?

Underneath the photo, Niall captioned - my beautiful best friends who finally figured it out! #bitchesinlove #theyregoingtokillme #idgaf

One thing’s for sure, after seeing the post, she is definitely going to kill Niall.

**

Harry never responds to Louis’ text. Which is odd, because all she asked is, what should they do about their families knowing. She didn’t think it was a strange question. Yet, apparently, she upset Harry in some way. She doesn’t understand, how or why. Harry doesn’t meet up with her on Monday morning. Nor Tuesday or Wednesday. When she gets out of bed on Thursday, she swears she’s going to talk some sense into her friend, but then her body somehow finds its way back under her covers, until she’s forced to go to the last practice before their big game, later that day.

By Friday, Louis is in panic mode, and Niall is not doing anything to help.

“Just stop asking me Ni, I don’t know.”

The match is tomorrow, it’s almost the day of their big game, yet Niall has been spending their time together bothering Louis about Harry. About why Harry has locked herself away, in her room, all week. They were supposed to be hanging out to avoid stress, not to cause more.

“You need to talk to her.”

Louis snaps, “She’s the one ignoring me!”

“What are you? Twelve? What kind of response is that?”

“You don’t understand.”

From the spot on Louis’ bedroom floor, that Niall’s laying on, she says, “You two have been my best friends for a long time now. I think I do.”

“After the game,” Louis insists. “After the game, I’ll talk to her.”

“Good, she’s coming tomorrow anyway.”

“What?!” Louis shrieks.

“It’s our final match, Zayn and Harry want to come to support us.”

“I can’t…”

Niall sits up abruptly, “Louis, remember when I came out to you?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“And remember how I said I had a difficult time with it? I accepted I was asexual a long time before I actually got around to admitting it to anyone. Because I would get myself ready to finally say it, but then I’d start imagining worst case scenarios, and psych myself out. I’d assume how people were going to react, without giving them the chance to prove me wrong. And then I realised that I needed to stop caring so much about what people thought. Who cares if it’s bad or good, I’m still me. I’m still Niall, and things will be alright either way.”

“I remember,” Louis says, quietly.

“Well, Harry is still Hary, she just,” Niall pauses, emphasising her point as she says, “She just might need some reminding of that, too.”

As the realisation of what Niall is implying dawns on her, her eyes bulge out in shock, “Oh. Wow.”

“Yeah. And as her best friend, it’s your job to help her through this.”

Fidgeting with her nails, Louis says, “I guess I can do that.”

“After the game, like you said. That’s when you both should talk.”

“And it’ll be alright?”

“Yeah, Louis. Everything will eventually be alright.”

Louis wants to believe in that, so much, it honestly hurts, but something keeps holding her back. Like a cloud of doubt encasing her, unwilling to fully evaporate from her mind.

**

It’s game day. Holy shit it’s game day, Louis panics.

The whole team is in the locker room getting into their kits, and she is panicking. She must look the way she feels, because Niall notices in the middle of informing her of something.

“Li said Zayn and Harry are here...Lou?”

Louis doesn’t reply.

Gripping onto her shoulders, Niall forces Louis to look up at her, “Hey, you’ll be fine. Everything will be fine, just breathe. Okay? In. Out.”

The breaths come out as instructed, “Okay."

“Good. Now, let’s go out there and fucking win this shit!”

“Yes, win.” Louis is still nervous.

Niall refuses to let Louis get away with such a weak cheer, “No, Louis. Win!”

“Win.”

“Win!”

“Win!” Louis screams the best she can.

“There we go!”

It provokes a small chuckle from Louis, but it doesn’t completely dispel the anxious feeling resting within her. Niall doesn’t give her a chance to fixate on those emotions, however, as she’s dragged out alongside her team and onto the pitch.

“Let’s fucking do this,” Niall shouts to Liam, who comes up next to them.

Louis nods, and calls for the rest of the girls, “Alright team, huddle!”

There’s a speech about being undefeated, and wanting to stay that way. There’s a speech about putting everything on the line to beat their toughest competitors yet. There’s a speech about being the greatest team, and making Louis and Niall proud, and how no matter what happens tonight, they’re still going to be proud, and it’s emotional. It revs everyone up, it energises them to their core, with determination and ambition. For winning today. For winning this game.

Louis wants nothing less.

All together, they do their team cheer, with their hands in the middle. It’s pandemonium when they get into position on the pitch, Louis taking centre. She can hear Zayn screaming for Liam, who’s at the goal post, and when Louis searches to find the source of her voice, she’s met with green eyes instead. Harry is staring, and Louis is not in the right headspace to handle it.

With a quick smile, she pulls her gaze away, and comes up to the opposing midfielder in front of her. The girl’s black hair is tied into a ponytail, and she’s practically growling from her position. Louis is not intimidated one bit. Not at all.

“You’re going down, bitch,” the girl threatens, from her spot.

Louis smirks devilishly, “I’d like to see you try.”

When the whistle blows, the game is on.

For the next two hours, it’s nothing but sweat and tears, and Louis is playing the hardest she’s ever played in her entire career. It’s a tie throughout the match, for every goal they score, the other team gets one in return. Back and forth they run, until their muscles ache with exhaustion. Liam is frustrated with herself for letting any of the balls through, but she’s doing better than anybody else would, which is truly amazing.

Racing down the field towards the other side, to get open, something is yelled at Louis,  “Get ready to lose, ya fucking cunt.”

Louis laughs hysterically, “Kiss my fucking arse.”

Suddenly, the ball comes sailing over, and Louis twirls out of the girl’s defense, getting out without being blocked. Once she has the ball in her possession, she’s running, running as fast as her feet will take her, down towards the other team’s goal. There are people close behind her, and she knows she won’t be able to make it the whole way, so she searches for anyone who’s available. The hardest parts of the game are the quick decisions. No one has time to think about their choice once they’ve made it. They have to act fast, and she is afraid, because the one choice she has, she doesn’t like. It’s not that the girl isn’t good enough, it’s that she’s not as available as Louis would like her to be. There’s too much risk.

That is, until a beam of literal sunshine, crosses her view.

Kicking, just as the other team’s player goes to steal the ball, she directs it across the pitch to Niall. Once it’s within her reach, Niall’s sprinting, travelling down, and down, and down, until she sends it flying towards the net. And gets it in.

And gets it in!

“Oh my God! Oh my God, we just won! Niall!”

Niall drops down to her knees in shock, and cries as the rest of the team pummels her harder against the ground. Louis is beside herself with happiness, cheering and laughing in the pile up. They won the season, undefeated, the best they’ve ever done! She squeezes Niall ecstatically, after all the other girls begin to stand. As they’re locked, Liam comes barrelling into them.

“Fuck, we did it! We fucking did it!”

Niall beams, “I got the winning shot. How the fuck...Louis that was a perfect assist.”

“That was all you Niall, I just gave you the ball.”

The three are cheering again, going in for another embrace as other players come by to join in. Inevitably, they all have to pull apart. Louis and Niall shake the other Captain’s hand, and guide their team members, to stand for a picture with their winning trophies. After the crowd has somewhat died down, they all cheer their team spirit again, before ending back up in the changing rooms. The team has a moment to themselves, where Louis and Niall thank them all for their efforts this year, and say that it couldn’t have been done without each and every one of them, and then there’s one last meaningful team huddle before they leave.   

Louis sort of can’t believe it. The season is really over.

Niall wraps her arms around Louis’ shoulders, and tugs her along with her and Liam, as they exit, a little emotional but mostly happy. The three are recounting awesome moments from the game, when a voice shouts from in front of them, “There’s my beautiful, amazing, girlfriend!”

Zayn is on Liam faster than they can breathe, hugging her excitedly.

“Thank you so much baby, I loved hearing you from the sidelines,” Liam responds with a kiss to Zayn’s forehead. Niall laughs at the view, “On that note, I’m hungry. Anyone want to come?”

The couple agree to join, not giving Harry or Louis a chance to say if they want to tag along, before the three of them are off. Which...Louis isn’t surprised about. Niall did say Louis had to talk to Harry. She’s sure Niall probably set this up before the game. Sneaky little bitch.

The atmosphere is awkward with just the two of them left, until Harry says, “You did great.”

“Thank you,” Louis genuinely replies.

Gripping the shirt of her dirty uniform, Louis just goes for it, “So…”

“So,” Harry repeats.

“Do you maybe, want to go somewhere more private to talk?”

“Erm, alright.”

There’s an empty field a little further down, from where Louis just played the game, that she leads Harry to. The night sky hangs overbearingly over her head, and the further they get from the crowd, the more uneasy she becomes. But she leads Harry to the benches, and swears to herself that she’ll fix whatever’s wrong, between the two of them, because she loves Harry, and misses what they had. Back when they weren't so cautious. When they didn’t care what they did, or said, around each other.

“I’m not mad, by the way, that our families found out,” Harry begins, “I didn’t mean to make it seem like that, when I didn’t reply back.”

“Okay. Well, what was upsetting you?”

Chewing on her lip, Harry offers, “I’m not ready to say.”

“When have you ever kept secrets from me?”

“Does it matter?”

“You know,” Louis uses her hands to emphasise as she speaks, “I came here hoping we could finally address whatever has been going on between us, but clearly you don’t care enough to.”

“That’s not it, but there are some things that I need to figure out, one hundred percent, before we have this conversation.”

“That makes no sense.”

Harry sighs, “I know it doesn’t, but it will soon. Can we just, in the meantime, go back to being friends?”

“I didn’t realise we stopped?”

“I guess we hadn’t. I just...I don’t want to feel distant from you. I want to be normal.”

“Kind of hard to be normal, when I know you’re hiding something from me.”

That’s the last straw for Harry, anger visibly apparent in her expression, as she snaps, “You know what? Forget I even said anything. Maybe it’s best that we just take some time for ourselves?”

“You’re the only one who needs to figure anything out, I already know.”

“You’re right. I’m the one that needs time. I’ll text you when I’m ready to talk.”

Harry storms from the benches to walk off, but Louis is not having any of that. “Really? You’re just going to walk away?”

Continuing her stride, Harry speeds up, and Louis is tempted to run after her, fight her, argue with her, until she sees that she’s being ridiculous - but she doesn’t. Harry wants space? She can respect that...sort of.

**

“You’re being an idiot.”

“Zayn, this is not the time.”

The girl smirks from the doorway to Louis’ room, “Oh yes it is.”

Louis is on her laptop, in her bed, watching Netflix. There are about a million other more important things she should be occupying her time with, but she has no motivation to care. Shutting the screen, she says with annoyance, “Go on. Tell me off again.”

“Okay,” Zayn says, popping her hip out, as she crosses her arms, “You’re being an idiot. You’ve been pining after Harry for so long, and now you’re ruining the one chance you finally have to be with her.”

“Has it ever occurred to anyone that maybe it’s not me? That maybe it’s Harry, who’s breaking my heart?”

“But you’re not telling her that.”

“Well, she’s not telling me anything either.”

Zayn shakes her head, disappointedly. “You used to do anything Harry asked of you, when you two were just friends. You went out of your way, all the time, to keep her happy. Now you’re dating, and what? You can’t be bothered to put in the effort anymore?”

“Sometimes I wish you weren’t so brutally honest about how you feel.” Louis grumbles.

“You’re deflecting.”

“Because the point is moot. There’s so much you don’t know, so much you don’t understand, and I’m not going to sit here and argue with you about it.”

The frown on her face is persistent, as Zayn quietly replies, “I expected better of you, Louis.”

“You know what, Zayn? Sometimes giving up is the only option.”

Zayn’s reaction to that is hard to witness. Hints of anger slide into strokes of disappointment. Louis knows Zayn wants to say something else, but for the benefit of maintaining their friendship, she rolls her eyes and walks away. Louis tries to go back to Netflix, but fails, so instead she falls asleep, hopefully, until all this has blown over or the world has ended.

Whichever comes first.

**

Days merge into one another, as they pass. Louis hardly can tell when one day ends and another begins. It’s all the same to her. With Zayn avoiding her, she feels sad, but with Harry...life without Harry leaves her empty. Like a hermit crab moving onto a bigger shell, Harry is the crab, and Louis is the empty part that is left behind. There’s a gaping hole within her, and it only seems to grow in Harry’s absence.

The next Sunday, Louis is hiding away in her room with a show on, when her phone dings with a notification.

Hazza: Do you want to meet up in an hour? Dani’s?

Louis is torn. On the one hand, she wants to go, and mend the crack that’s formed between them, but she also can’t handle the possibility of the opposite - if Harry rejects their entire friendship completely. That would destroy her.

Closing her eyes, she thinks to herself - you can do this, you can talk to her. It’s half-hearted, but it’s better than nothing.

Louis: Okay.

The countdown commences: one hour.

**

It’s funny, all the things someone notices as they wait. Louis grabbed a table for them, cupcakes already out and ready, and all that’s left now is Harry. While she sits, she takes in the chipped grey paint on the wall beside her. There’s a lightbulb out a few tables ahead, and most of the seat cushions are a little worn, but it’s their place. It’s Harry and Louis’ place. And as she looks around, she takes in, and remembers, what it felt like to be here with Harry, in case they’re never here together again.

This could be the final time she sits across from the love of her life, happy, and eating cupcakes.

Well, they may not be happy. They may not even make it to the eating part, but she hopes. She really, truly hopes. As the seconds turn into minutes, she thinks about calling Harry, just to make sure she is coming, when a flow of curls comes into view.

Harry, as always, looks positively stunning.

“Hey,” Harry greets.

When the girl sits down, Louis grins slightly, “Hi.”

There’s an audible exhale of breath from Harry, as she settles into her seat, “I’m glad you came, Lou. I thought you might be busy.”

“Nope. I’ve done absolutely nothing this entire week.”

“Yeah, Zayn mentioned.”

Louis nods, “So...you ready to talk?”

“Yeah,” Harry coughs. “I uh, yeah. Well, first I just want to say that I’m sorry. I didn’t handle anything right last week, and I argued with Zayn about what she said to you. It wasn’t fair of her to assume she knew what happened between us, and for her to shout at you, when I am the one to blame.”

“Okay, thank you,” Louis says, “I’m sorry too, just so you know.”

“Thanks. Anyway, I think it’s best that we call off this whole fake relationship thing. I think it’s gotten in the way of our friendship, and it’s making things more complicated than they are.”

Louis pouts, “How are you planning on explaining that to our families, who literally just found out?”

Leaning forward, Harry divulges, “I have a plan.”

“Go on.”

“We wait till after the holidays.”

“Why?” Louis asks.

“Because, if we go into the holidays having broken up, it might make it awkward at the Christmas Eve get together. So, let’s wait until after the break, and then we can tell them that we’re just better off as friends.”

Louis considers this information, asking, “And what about the girls?”

“Same thing.”

“Okay, but what about the whole reason we started this in the first place?”

Harry seems to have an answer for that as well, “The main problem has been resolved. Those guys haven’t talked to me in weeks, and no one really does anything, unless I’m at a party. Which, as a friend, you can still help me with.”

All of it makes sense, and it’s reasonable enough to work, but that means there are still a few weeks left of Louis having to continue this facade. Can she do it? Can she successfully go back to pretending like nothing ever happened? And even more so...can she go back to being friends after it’s all said and done? That’s the real question above all else. Can she maintain being friends after everything they did? After their kiss.

Time will only tell.

Clarifying once again, Louis asks, “So after the holidays?”

“After the holidays.”

“And in the meantime?”

“Let’s do our best to end on a good note,” Harry smiles.

Louis nods at this, “So I guess we’ll tell the girls that we talked, worked things out, and then we’ll show them the best damn relationship, a fake relationship can be, for the next month.”

“Exactly.”

“And what about our friendship? The real one?”

“What about it?”

“Are we okay?”

Harry’s eyes round in sadness, but her smile remains, “Yeah, Lou. We’re alright.”

Louis hates that she knows it’s a lie. Regardless, she decides to agree to the plan. Rather then talk about all that’s pent up within her, she’ll wait the month, and tell Harry once this whole thing is over. No backing out this time, no going back on her word. Louis Tomlinson is finally going to tell Harry Styles that she loves her, and nothing is going to stop her.

“Okay Hazza, you have yourself a deal.”

They toast with their cupcakes, and bring the frosting directly into their mouths, laughing at the dramatics of it all. She feels like she can breathe again, but there’s still a vice around her heart, still a hole inside her chest, and neither will be relieved until she finally speaks the truth.

One more month.

**

It’s not hard to maintain the lie, Louis finds. With their courses packing on more assignments, and the end of term exams coming up, Harry and Louis hardly spend any time together, let alone with the whole group. Which, for now, is all good again. After they came back from Dani’s, and told everyone that they had resolved their issues, all the girls were visibly excited. Louis did notice some skepticism in their eyes despite the praise, but maybe they didn’t fully believe it because Harry and Louis didn’t fully sell it? Either way, things went back to some semblance of normalcy. Harry and Louis were hanging out again, Zayn had apologised, and everything else sort of fell back into place.

Their families couldn’t wait for the couple to come home.

“Hey slags, let’s go shopping for presents after class!”

“What about studying,” Liam responds to Niall’s question, as they settle into their lecture.

“What about it? I’ve been studying all fucking week long, I need a mental break.”

Zayn nods her head, “Same.”

With Zayn agreeing, Liam by default will be going, leaving Harry and Louis left to answer, as Niall stares at them intensely. “And what about you two?”

Harry giggles, “If Lou goes, I’ll go.”

And yeah, they’ve been selling their fake relationship, like no other, when they’re around people.

“I’ll go babe, no worries,” Louis grins, laying a quick kiss to Harry’s hand. The other girls all express joking faces of disgust.

“Oi,” Louis snaps, playfully, “This is what you all wanted.”

As they laugh at that, Niall responds, “Yeah, but we don’t need to see it.”

“Oh, is it bothering you?”

“Yes!"

“Hazza did you hear that,” Louis teases, “It’s bothering Niall. What should we do about that?”

“Hm,” the girl grins, “Maybe we should do it again?”

“No!” Niall yells.

“Yes, that sounds like a splendid idea.”

The two girls go in for an embrace, but the Professor comes in, distracting them before they reach each other. Niall flips Louis off, and Harry laughs into Louis’ shoulder, and it all feels fine. Everything is fine. They haven’t actually kissed since the time in Louis’ bed. If their friends taunt them, they fake the kissing, by covering their faces with their hands, or with other tricks that they know by now. Harry always seems a little sad afterward, but Louis doesn’t let it affect her. It’s too confusing trying to understand Harry at this point.

Because all of Harry’s words say she doesn’t want to be closer to Louis. They’re reminders of when this whole charade will end. But all of her actions say the opposite, and it’s too much to figure out. So she just ignores the need in Harry’s eyes when they get physically close, and shrugs it off.

She has two weeks left till break. She can do this.

**

“I’m buying my family a cat,” Niall exclaims, as they walk around the streets in search of shops to enter.

“Ni, that sounds more like a present you’re buying for yourself,” Louis grins.

Niall sticks her tongue out, “And so what if it is?”

“I bet your Mum’s going to make you return it the next day.”

“No! Well...okay maybe. Ugh, I’ll have to think of something else. Hey, anyone want to go into this shop with me?”

“I’ll go,” Liam pipes up, who’s holding Zayn’s hand, and already guiding her inside.

“You lot go ahead,” Louis informs, “I think Harry and I are going to go into the next one.”

“Aw,” Niall sings, “Okay, have fun you two!”

When the other three are out of sight, Harry smirks, “I don’t remember saying I wanted to go in there.”

“That’s because you have no choice. You are fake dating me, which means you have to fulfill your responsibilities as my fake girlfriend, and follow me wherever I go.”

Harry smirks, “Oh, is that so?”

Louis smugly replies, “Yeah, it is.”

“Only if you buy me something.”

“Are you trying to barter?”

“It would seem so,” Harry answers back.

“Alright, I’ll buy you one thing that you really want.”

“Okay!"

Harry clutches onto Louis’ palm, pulling her inside the shop. It’s the first one they’ve come to that’s entirely designed for the season, and Louis is overcome with emotion for the holiday. It’s her favorite time of year.

“Hey Lou, have you thought about what you want to buy?”

“Not a clue. At least you only have Gemma to buy for, aside from Anne. I have my million and a half sisters, to find gifts for too.”

“Million and a half?”

“Yeah,” Louis rolls her eyes, “So many.”

“Well, I’ll be happy to help. I already got my family their gifts.”

“Of course you did.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” Harry pouts.

“Can’t be helped.”

With broad smiles, but distant hearts, the two girls walk around with plans of finding all the right gifts for Louis’ family. It’s sort of magical, the Christmas spirit circulating around them, in the songs playing from the speakers, in the cheer on everyone’s faces, in the decorations throughout. Louis swears Harry is glowing, like the star on top of a tree, beside her, and Louis is doing all she can to not reach out and touch. To not press her fingers into the golden warmth Harry emits.  

If she could, she’d be encased in it.

Searching through items, the two find enough presents for each of Louis’ siblings, and her Mum, before making their way through an archway to get to the tills.

“Hey Lou, look up.”

Harry’s voice leads towards the sight of something green, hanging above them. A mistletoe.

Flashback

“Mum, why do we hang those things above the door?” Louis asks, her twelve year old body plopping down next to Harry, who is over helping to make cookies for Christmas Eve.

“It’s tradition. People who are under the mistletoe have to kiss someone else, and it’s meant to bring them happiness and good luck.”

“What if no one wants to kiss you?”

“That wouldn’t happen, Lou. Someone will want to.”

“No, no one ever wants to kiss me,” she snaps, running off to her room and locking the door, so Harry can’t come in to convince her otherwise. She didn’t mean to freak out, but the only person she would want to kiss under the mistletoe is Harry, and Harry would never kiss her back. Louis would be left standing there alone, while Harry would be under it, kissing someone yucky like Zach. Ugly, stupid, Zach.

She shouldn’t worry about it. She only has two days until Christmas Eve, and her birthday, and then she can spend the rest of break not thinking about anything.

So that’s exactly what she does. She plays ignorant. When the special day finally arrives, Harry’s family comes over for the celebrations, as they always do. They have Louis’ favorite dinner, and after, they play Christmas games, and sing songs, until the youngest children fall asleep, and the oldest are left to themselves.

“Hey, Lou. I want to show you something,” Harry whispers into Louis’ ear, while the parents are talking, and Lottie and Gemma are plaiting one another’s hair.

“Okay.”

“In your room.”

“Oh, alright let’s go.”

The two walk off without being seen, and sneak inside Louis’ room, shutting the door behind.

“I got you a gift,” Harry grins, shoving the little box into Louis’ hands.

“Harry! We promised no gifts.”

“I know, but I couldn’t help myself.”

Louis gives Harry a questioning look, and shakes the box, to find there’s hardly any sound. “What is this?”

“Open it and find out.”

Hesitantly, Louis peels the perfectly done wrapping paper apart, to unveil a plain white box. It looks like something that once held a bracelet, though it definitely isn’t holding one inside now. “Ugh, Harry, I hate you.”

Harry giggles, “Go on.”

Lifting the top of the box up, Louis see’s what she first thinks are leaves, until she realises it’s not that at all, “Mistletoe?”

Taking the decoration in her hands, Harry steps closer into Louis’ space, and holds the item above their heads, “Because I never want you to think that no one wants to kiss you. Even if no one else does, I’ll always kiss you, Lou Lou.”

Louis doesn’t have the chance to say anything, before Harry’s lips are upon her, warm and timid, against her left cheek. It doesn’t last long, the rushed peck, but it’s enough to destroy her entire world. She had been hoping she would grow out of loving Harry, but this has only confirmed it.

Flushed down to her toes, Louis whispers,“Thank you, Hazza.”

Harry whispers in return, “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and you should know that. How special you are.”

End Flashback

‘You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,’ echoes within Louis’ head, as the memory fades. That was a defining moment for her. A solidifying moment, that brings up all the same emotions, as the two girls stand under this mistletoe, so many years later.

Whispering, like she had when they were younger, Harry says between them, “Mistletoe.”

As much as Louis would love for Harry to kiss her, she can’t allow that to happen. Stepping out from under the spot, Louis laughs, “That was my favorite gift.”

There’s a lopsided grin on Harry’s face, at the confession, “Mine too.”

When Louis tries walking off, Harry grabs her wrist, “Hey wait, you can’t leave until I kiss you.”

“Uh, sorry,” Louis flusters, “I’m saving myself.”

Harry’s brow furrows, “For who?”

“My real girlfriend.”

“You’re dating someone?” Harry asks, surprised.

The inquisition makes Louis stutter her response, “N-no, for the next person I date.”

“Oh,” comes solemnly, from Harry’s lips.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Harry repeats, ending the conversation, after altering the mood of their day entirely.

Without another word, Louis buys the things she’s claimed, and the two meet back up with the others. They stop at a burger place to grab something to eat, and though Harry and Louis try not to let it show that something’s bothering them, the girls can sense it. And if they didn’t know before, a few days later, when it’s time for them to all head back home, the change is apparent.

As the first to say goodbye, Niall promises to annoy Louis every day that they’re away, while Liam and Zayn promise the opposite. Liam gives her an extra hug, and Zayn gives her an extra kiss on the cheek. All three girls swear that they’ll send pictures, and ask for some, in return. They say how much they’re going to miss each other, and even though they go through this every year, the goodbyes never get easier.

At least Louis and Harry have the benefit of living near one another, though Harry hardly says anything when she goes. There’s a rush of a hug, and a comment on seeing Louis soon, but that’s it. Out of everything, she is most disappointed in this. Yes, she’ll be seeing Harry again, in just three days, but still.

They’ve never not had a proper goodbye before.

**

Stress falls like snow, melting off of Louis’ skin, as she wakes up in her bed at home. Home. She had traveled late last night, on the train from Manchester, and she couldn’t be more excited to be with her family again. This is what she’s been waiting for.

“Oi, Louis! You up?” Louis’ eldest sister, Lottie, screams from the other side of the bedroom door.

“I am now, you twat.”

The door opens, as her sister sassily replies, “I came to give you a cuddle, but I guess I’ll leave you be.”

“Hey, get in here!”

Grinning, Lottie plops into the bed beside Louis. “I knew you missed me.”

“I missed no one,” Louis grins.

“Lies, all lies, but that’s okay because I know better. I wouldn’t say that around Mum, though.”

“She’d murder me.”

“That’s the nicest thing she would do,” Lottie counters.

The two siblings giggle at one another, until Louis admits, “I have missed you, Lots. A whole bunch.”

“I’ve missed you too, ya muppet. You didn’t even tell me about Harry,” she snaps, while slapping Louis on the arm.

“Ouch, you little shit. Harry…it’s complicated.”

“That’s what Mum said.”

“I know,” Louis states.

“Well, she’ll be here in a few days, and you can work it out then.”

“Why should I do it then?” Louis asks, and as though Louis is an idiot, Lottie sighs with a roll of her eyes, “Because it’s your birthday, and Christmas, and she can’t deny you anything you want on those days, or that would be cruel.”

“So I should force her into it?”

“No, but - it just seems like everyone will be in better spirits then. Maybe it’ll be easier to say all that you’ve been thinking?”

“Not a bad idea,” Louis concludes, after mulling the idea over.

“You’ve got to give her a gift though, or something.”

“What do you mean?”

“Yeah, a gift, because it’s Christmas, and you want her to know how much she means to you.”

“That’s a good idea,” Louis agrees.

“Wait…you didn’t get her one?”

Louis sheepishly discloses, “I sort of forgot, but I know what to get her. Do you mind coming out with me today?”

Her sisters familiar blue eyes electrify with excitement, “Not at all.”

“Brilliant.”

The two sit up in bed, about to get ready, when Lottie suggests, “Why don’t you say hi to the family first, and then we’ll get going?”

Louis agrees, “Good idea. I don’t want to be killed off for bad manners before I get a chance to confess to Harry.”

“Then you’d better hurry. You have about two minutes before the twins come for your head.”

“I can’t wait to see them,” Louis grins, as she prepares to head downstairs. Stopping at the top step however, Louis swivels around. “Hey, Lots?”

“Yeah?"

“Thanks, by the way.”

“You’re hopeless Lou, that’s why you need me around.”

“I know, and I really mean it. Thank you.”

Lottie just smiles, and that’s enough for Louis to continue down the stairs, leading to the kitchen, where she’s attacked all around by hugs. Needless to say, it’s the best morning she’s had in a while.

**

After two days of successful movie watching, present wrapping, and cookie baking, the day for the Styles family to come over has arrived. Louis’ family is doned in their honorary ugly Christmas sweaters, for the event, even though she actually really likes her Frosty the Snowman  jumper. It’s been her go to shirt for the past few years, after Harry gave it to her, some time back. In return, Harry always wears the one Louis got her, with Rudolph on the front. It’s mostly green, which Louis loves, because it matches the colour of Harry’s eyes. She sometimes wonders if Harry had been thinking the same, when she got Louis’ one in blue.

After hours of cleaning and cooking, and pulling out multiple bottles of wine, the doorbell signals the family’s arrival. Louis’ Mum opens up the door, greeting Anne first, as she joyfully  says, “Hi everyone!” Down the line embraces are shared, until eventually, Anne comes around, wrapping Louis up in her arms, and whispering, “Lou, I have been waiting so long for this moment.”

Leaning off of Anne’s shoulder, Louis asks, “What moment?”

“For you to be my daughter-in-law,” she cheerfully says.

Louis breaks from the embrace in shock, “Anne! It’s not even that serious yet, or anything.”

“That’s alright, I have no doubt it’s going to happen, and I’m so happy for you. Harry was a little slow, but you…you always knew. Thank you for waiting for her. I know that probably wasn’t easy.”

The words she replies are the truest she’s said yet, “Harry’s worth the wait.”

A blooming smile captures Anne’s lips, “Well, you said it best.” She kisses Louis on the head, and squeezes her one last time, before moving on to the next of Louis’ siblings. It’s a bit overwhelming - the conversation, but there’s no time to sit and actually decipher it, when Gemma is eagerly coming in next. After they release one another, promising to catch up soon, there’s one last person left, Harry.  

“Hey,” she grins, as stands before Louis, “Long time no see.”

Louis nods, “I suppose it has been a while for us.” There’s a pause, a second of trepidation, that dares to affect their reunion, until they both completely shatter it. Harry is the first to lean in, but Louis is the first to grab on, and it’s all encompassing for a few seconds. It’s just Louis and Harry. Harry and Louis. Together again. She wants to smack Harry, for leaving how she did, but she also wants to apologise for everything she’s done too. But the moment ends all too soon, when her younger sister, Fizzy, shoves her out of the way, causing Louis to stumble, as she swiftly moves in for her turn to hug Harry.

Louis just laughs, unable to be angry tonight.

After the greetings, things progress as the always do, each year. They eat, they sing, they dance, they play games, and they consume too many glasses of wine. Anne and Jay are bubbling into fits of laughter, as they share funny memories, spanning from old to new, while everyone else is perched in the living room. The youngest siblings are asleep, Lottie and Gemma are gossiping, while also listening in occasionally to their Mothers, and Harry and Louis are bystanders to it all. Harry is a little tipsy, her cheeks a beautiful shade of pastel pink, and Louis isn’t any better off, as far as alcohol is concerned.

Everything has been great, which is why Louis needs to act now, before life has a chance of ruining this.

“Hey, Haz?”

Harry turns her head, “Yeah?”

With liquid courage to thank, Louis says, “I want to show you something.”

“Okay.”

“In my room.”

“Oh, alright.”

Harry follows blindly behind Louis, her eyes sleepy from the alcohol. Once they get inside, and Louis closes the door behind them, Harry takes over the situation, unexpectedly. “You know Lou, before you show me something, I have something I want to show you first.”

“Oh...alright.”

Harry stares deeply into Louis’ soul, looking for something, though Louis doesn’t know what. It’s unnerving, how fiercely she gazes. Peeling away all of her layers, making her feel more vulnerable than she’s ever been. Whether Harry finds what she’s looking for or not, Louis doesn’t know, but Harry exhales as though she has. “I’ve been working up the nerve to say this all day, but I guess now is as good a time as any,” Harry starts, before pausing for a moment, “Lou. You’ve always been this big ball of light.”

Louis can’t help but giggle at that, “Big ball of light?”

“Sorry,” Harry murmurs, clearly embarrassed, “I’m a little drunker than I thought. Erm, but yeah? You’re a big ball of light in my life, always shining above everything else. I’ve always been inspired by you, intrigued by you, and hypnotised by you. And I always thought, that was just how it was. I always thought the way I felt about you, was how all best friends felt towards each other. But I was wrong. Very, very wrong.”

The more Harry talks, the more Louis’ heart races, listening patiently, as she continues, “I do think this fake relationship was a bad idea, but it did show me something about myself, that I never knew before.” Harry pulls something out from her back pocket, and opens the lid for Louis to see, “I don’t just want to kiss you under the mistletoe, like when we were younger, or just during the holidays. I want to kiss you under every and all mistletoes, and on every and all days,” Harry confesses, as she reveals a cutely decorated mistletoe, within the box in her hands.

Tearing up at the declaration, Louis wonders aloud, “You want to kiss me?”

A light chuckle escapes from Harry, “Yeah, always.”

“I thought I sensed something those times we were dancing, but I blamed it on you being drunk.”

“Louis,” Harry answers earnestly, “I was never drunk. I tried telling you, but you kept cutting me off. I was sober at those parties.”

Louis’ mouth drops, “You were sober?”

“Completely.”

“And you still want to kiss me?”

Harry bursts into a beautiful fit of laughter, “Yes. Soon preferably.”

“Wait! I...I uh, got you something too,” Louis admits, as she rips apart the box she had wrapped meticulously for Harry. Opening the top, she shows Harry what she had bought her. “Funnily enough, I got you one too. A mistletoe.”

She glances up at Harry, “I want to kiss you, too.”

The smile that breaks upon Harry’s mouth is cataclysmic to Louis’ heart. “You want to kiss me?” She checks.

“Since I was old enough to know what it meant,” Louis confirms.

“Wait, that long? Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“Do you know how many times I thought about it? Dreamt about telling you everything that I felt? I was so close, so many times, but something always happened. When we were twelve, that was the closest I had ever been, until you told me about Zach. After that, there were new names, new faces, all getting your love, but none of them were me. When you asked me to be your fake girlfriend, I told myself no. How could I fake feelings that genuinely existed? But then I thought, maybe this could be my chance to finally show you what it would be like to date me. And sometimes it seemed like it was working, that you were feeling what I was feeling, but then I had to force myself to remember that you’re my best friend, and I couldn’t risk losing you in the end.”

“That’s why you never said anything? Because you were afraid of losing me?”

Louis sniffles, “Yeah.”

Lifting her hands onto Louis’ face, Harry inches her chest close until the two girls are touching, “Louis, you’ll never have to worry about losing me again. I’m not going anywhere.”

The tethered strings bound to Louis’ heart, that had kept her emotions restrained all these years, snap suddenly. Hope and faith fill their place, swelling into her malnourished soul, she glances up wondrously, “Promise?”

Harry’s eyes stare back, with all the answers she needs, but painted pastel lips still reply, “I promise, Lou. The moment you kiss me, I’m all yours.”

Louis glows under the flood of affection. This is what she’s been waiting for, what she has cried over, too many times to count. This is what she has always wanted, and it’s here. It’s not a mirage, not an illusion, not a mask. Harry’s feelings are real, and ready for her to have. It’s a Christmas miracle.

Okay...she’s being dramatic, but at least in a good way this time. Right?

Eager for the moment that they’re both waiting for, Louis lifts the mistletoe she bought above their heads, prompting Harry to do the same with her own. Once their gifts are in position, Harry asks, “You think it’s extra good luck, kissing under two?”

Louis shrugs, smugly, “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

The next few seconds that transpire are glorious.

With reckless abandon, their bodies attach like atoms, as their lips collide in the best kiss Louis has ever had. It’s moving, earth-shattering, breathtaking, exhilarating, as Harry finally surrenders all that she feels in this moment. All that she feels for Louis. Louis in turn, kisses back with all the unadulterated passion she’s been drowning in for years, pressing every trace of it, into Harry’s vacant heart. The kiss in and of itself is better than anything Louis could have imagined, and though it doesn’t last forever, its effects surely do.

Because, not only does it bring them luck, it also brings them something they didn’t verbally ask for.

It brings them love.

The End.

Chapter Text

1 Month Later

“We’re back!” 

Louis comes barrelling in through the doorway, tackling Zayn to the ground, as she excitedly wraps her in a hug. Zayn groans, but squeezes Louis anyway, regardless of the pain of having fallen. “Oi Louis, you’re breaking me bum.”

“Don’t care, missed you.”

“Missed you too,” Zayn smiles.

Harry comes laughing into the room, with Liam shaking her head at the scene. “Can’t leave them alone for two seconds, can we Harry?”

“Apparently not. Should we help them up, or let them struggle by themselves?”

“I suppose we could help them this once,” she teases.

“Oi,” Louis shouts, “We’re right here!”

“Oh, do I detect a hint of attitude? I guess we’ll just,” but before Harry can walk off, Louis grabs her by the ankles, and takes her down to the ground as well. “Lou!”

Liam stands, cackling, above them, “That was incredible.”

“Shut up or you’re next,” Harry threatens.

Liam reaches out a hand to help, just as Niall comes in through the door. “What the hell,” she utters at the sight, “I knew I’d miss out on everything when my bus came in late! Watch out, bitches!”

“Niall no,” Louis tries to scream, but it comes to no avail, as the girl plops on top of them all, taking Liam down with her.

“I can’t believe it’s five minutes in, and we’re all already on the ground,” Louis comments, “we’re not even drunk.”

“No, but we should be,” Zayn jokes.

“Well, if Niall would move her arse, we could actually get up,” Liam huffs.

Niall smirks, “Seems you have a problem.”

“Niall move.”

“Not happening, Li.”

“I’ll buy you dinner for the week.”

“McDonalds?”

“Whatever you want.”

The girl is on her feet within the next second, helping the others as they stand up.

“I’m just so excited to be back with you all,” Niall adds, “My break was alright, but I like it better when I’m here with you. Did any of you have a good time at home?”

“Well,” Harry steps forward, “Lou and I have something exciting to share.”

Niall answers, “You’re pregnant.”

All the girls snicker at that, as Harry rolls her eyes, “What the fuck, Niall? No,” she groans. After the laughter has subsided, Harry goes on, “Uh, you’re all probably going to be a little confused by this, but Louis and I are officially together.”

Zayn replies with furrowed brows, “The fuck? Thought you’d been together this whole time?”

Louis nervously responds, “Well...not really. We uh, we were faking it, before.” The three other girls stare with mouths dropped open, forcing Louis to continue. “You see, it all started when Harry was getting bothered by these guys,” she recalls, catching them up on all that happened from beginning to end. Going through every obstacle and hurdle they faced, up until coming home. There’s mostly shock from the others, while Harry looks on proudly.

Louis feels the same because they went through a lot to finally get to where they are.

“So yeah,” she summises, “After the kiss under the mistletoe, we’ve been together officially ever since.”

Liam’s the first to asks a question, “Did you tell your families all of that too?”

Harry snorts, “That same night that we kissed, Louis and I couldn’t keep a straight face, and you know how suspicious our families are. They got the real story out of us twenty minutes after the fact. So yeah, they know now. And they’re somehow even happier.”

“That’s good,” Niall assures, “I really can’t believe you had us all fooled. Maybe not Zayn, but you had me. Hopefully, this time, things will go better though, yeah? No more miscommunication getting in the way.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Louis smiles.

Zayn nods, “Yeah, this time around, no holding back, I expect you to be all out.”

Niall groans, “Don’t encourage them.”

“What was that Niall?” Louis jokes, “You don’t want to see this?”

As she asks, she leans forward and grabs Harry by the hips, tugging her face down to kiss her slowly.

“My eyes,” Niall shouts at the scene, “I’m going blind!”

Zayn smacks her on the head, “Grow up, Ni. Just cause you don’t like anything between the thighs, doesn’t mean you can’t handle some PDA.”

Harry laughs when they pull away, “Wow, it really is great to be back.”

Louis giggles, “You can say that again.”

For the rest of the night, Zayn convinces Harry and Louis to kiss every half hour, just to annoy Niall. Which results in Liam bribing Niall with more food so that she won’t fight Zayn every time she does it. They laugh over stories from their Winter break, and they laugh over memories from their past. By the end, Louis’ abs hurt from giggling at the ridiculousness of it all.

And though things have changed, once again, their dynamic still hasn’t. Despite Zayn and Liam being in love, despite Niall being Niall, despite she and Harry finally getting their shit together - they’ve remained the closest of friends. They’ve remained the closest of family.

And she is never going to take this kind of love for granted.