if you're not the one for me, who is?

the next morning was a wake-up call back to reality. both the boys' eyes were red and puffy from the incessant crying of the night before, and harry felt like the pressure from his sinuses were truly going to crush his skull. not to mention, he realized that he'd missed his first morning class.

the younger boy woke up to empty arms and empty sheets. after finishing their movie at around midnight, they decided to squeeze into louis' bed and sleep; it was too late and harry's eyelids were too heavy for him to even consider trying to drive home. they had to squeeze close though, as louis' bed was quite small, though harry didn't mind. quite the opposite, really.

harry stumbled off of the bed (realizing he smelled like louis, and thought about never showering again), not used to how tall it was. funny, because louis was such a small boy in stature. he was still unfamiliar with the mapping of the apartment, but he managed to find light coming from the bathroom—an ugly reminder of just twelve hours before.

luckily, he found louis brushing his teeth calmly, bed hair sticking up wildly, in a way such that harry didn't even know hair could go. he thought it was beautiful. he stood there for a while, only watching the ocean boy, unaware that he'd been noticed already.

"are you just going to stand there, or are you going to say something?" louis said, after gurgling and rinsing.

this took harry out of his stupor, feeling stupid. "i… i was just thinking about how pretty you are."

the words hung tranquilly in the air for a few seconds as louis could only gaze back fondly. he, too, didn't take for granted harry's natural beauty. how a man with everything anyone could want fell in love with him, he didn't know. it was the biggest mystery of a lifetime. "don't flatter me, love. you don't know beauty until you see yourself."

"cheesy, tomlinson."

"you started it."

harry didn't even care that as minutes ticked by, he was missing more and more of his classes. he cursed himself from a year ago on a daily basis for choosing morning classes, anyway. he thought it'd be a good way to maintain a healthy schedule, but didn't factor in the addition of an irresistible blue-eyed boy in his life.

"do you have anything for breakfast?" harry asked casually, before he remember who it was that he was talking to.

louis scratched the back of his neck, as if trying unsure of whether he had food in his house. things that were edible and not regurgitated and rotting on the floor, anyway. "erm, i'm not really sure. i mean, you can check? but it'll be pretty shit probably, anyway. you should still eat though, could probably grab something on your way to class."

harry snorted. "fuck class. there's no way i'm going today, and even if i wanted to, there's no way i'd make it," he gestured at the clock hanging in the hallway, "it's eleven thirty already. if i were to get ready now and drive there, i'd get there at twelve, and that's the point of staying for an hour more of classes?"

"what happened to being responsible?" louis chuckled, "you could be missing a lot of material in that hour."

"it's music history. i can get all the information from a textbook. or even the internet. besides, how many music history classes do you think i've taken in my lifetime?"

"whatever. do as you please, but like i said, i might not have much in regards of food laying around."

"i'll go grocery shopping for you. i'll even come back and make you lunch."

louis flinched, trying of something to say that would be fitting but also get him out of this situation. although difficulties with food couldn't really be called a secret anymore, he didn't want to be so blunt about it and get another lecture from the curly-headed boy. "no need… i can't cook, anyway. so it'd all go bad, you know?"

"then i'll come over and cook for you as much as i can."

"harry…"

"i'm serious, louis. whatever it takes."

louis only heaved a sigh and returned to his morning routine, turning on the faucet to wash his face. "you're a college student, haz. can't be wasting money like that. just spend it on yourself, okay?"

"spending it on you isn't a waste."

"okay, but there are other things. and i have my own money."

"then let's go to the store together and we can grab you groceries and you can pay."

it was far too early for this conversation. louis' eyes still stung and his throat was still raw from the night before. even when he was brushing his teeth, he could practically feel his enamel burning off from toothbrush rubbing against the teeth weakened by his stomach acid. "i rather spend my money on other things," he said weakly, knowing harry was only going to go on and on about health.

surprisingly though, he didn't. "well i'm hungry. so i'm going going to go out and get a coffee and a muffin or something. i'll bring you some stuff too, and maybe a few things to last you for a couple of days. it won't be much, don't worry."

"okay," louis conceded, knowing anything he'd try to argue would be fruitless. in these situations, he might as well be talking back to a brick wall. "just don't get me too much. and i'll pay you back after, as well."

"deal." harry said, and went his way, throwing on a hoodie he's been holding, otherwise staying in the joggers he wore to bed last night.

"be safe, love you." louis said, without thinking, to which harry turned around and smiled this wide smile that made the ocean boy's cheeks burn.

"love you, too."

louis finished his morning routine; having brushed his teeth, washed his face, and done hair, so sat at his desk to do some work to kill time while harry was gone. he had a lecture at three in the afternoon today, so he couldn't exactly spend the day relaxing, but it was close to it. he considered getting a job, as the place he worked at shut down a couple of months ago and he hadn't gotten around to finding a new one. it was an old store that sold used books, owned by an old man whose wife had recently passed. he enjoyed working there, as it fed his love for literature and was just overall a very relaxing environment.

they were analyzing writers' sentence structure in essays and how they work to convey meaning. louis found it interesting, how small manipulations of words can paint something so large in the grand scheme of things. how even the switching of two sounds can change the tone of the entire sentence. writing, he'd read in an essay for class, is very much like enchanting. it's enchanting your reader and making them fall in love with you, almost. even if the point of the piece is ugly and exposes the very worst parts of humanity, the ultimate goal is to captivate readers. louis thought that nabakov couldn't be more correct in this statement.

he'd gotten through a few pieces, writing outlines of what they did rhetorically, when harry returned home. it startled him, as he briefly forgot that he'd given harry a key. but after the initial jump, it was relaxing, in a way. sort of domestic—something that would happen if they were married and living together. he disposed of that thought as soon as it entered his mind, though. he didn't want to get his own hopes up when he rejected the very notion of becoming something more to the boy just the night before.

"louuu, i'm home!" harry called from across the room, "i brought the goods!" he was holding five bags full of groceries, and a brown bag from starbucks in his mouth.

"christ, harry. i told you not to overdo it, what am i going to do with all of this? it's just a waste of money."

"no, because i'll be staying here and making food both of us, myself included, whether you eat it or not."

"who said you could stay here?"

"as if you have the heart to kick me out."

"touche, styles."

the two of them only looked at each other intensely, until harry couldn't help but look away, feeling defenseless under the gape of the ocean boy. as if with just a look, he could uncover every single thought running through the younger boy's head.

"i- i…" harry paused, "i'm going to go make something. i got you a pastry, though." he threw the bag at louis, which was caught by unsteady hands.

"harry, this-"

"just take it. i already had a muffin earlier."

louis could only stand there dumbfounded, not knowing what to do with the pastry in his hands, which he could smell the sticky, sweet frosting even without opening the back. it made him feel sick. harry had left, though, now in the kitchen putting things away.

louis just set the pastry down on the coffee table, not able to bear holding it anymore. it made the hunger even more apparent within him, stomach gnawing at him for any source of sustenance. he swore that people could absorb calories through scent or through touch sometimes, with the reaction that he'd get just by being around food. the very thought scared him, and made him want to go back to the bathroom and weigh himself again.

harry returned shortly, seeing the untouched pastry, wordlessly held the smaller boy. louis' head fit right in the nook his neck, and he felt like a home to the other boy's body. more so than this apartment did, really.

they released from the embrace, saying nothing, allowing the silence absorb them. harry suddenly felt this sense of hopelessness from not being able to help the ocean boy, and haunted by the memories of the night before. it felt like something was piercing his chest, telling him that something had to be done, and soon, or he'd regret it.

he only pushed this feelings away, though. because what was there to be done? what was there, when all louis would do is force a smile and push him away? but uncertainty and fear still rippled inside him. all this was just so overwhelming.

"loubear, promise me something, okay?"

"hm?" the blue-eyed boy grunted, still in harry's arms.

"never, never leave."

louis stayed quiet, only squeezing harry tighter.