C H A P T E R    E L E V E N

Advice and Amends

❄●❄

                  "AND THEN TAKE it an octave up here."

                  Liam sang the line Louis pointed at. "Like this?"

                  "I don't know about the transition to falsetto at the end there, but ask Zayn. He's better at that stuff."

                  "Perfect. This one's gonna be great, Lou. I can feel it." After a last face-splitting grin aimed at Louis, Liam brought his copy of the lyrics over to Zayn and Niall, who've been working on the tune of the first verse for the last twenty minutes.

                  When he was gone, Louis turned back toward Harry. "Told you they'd love it."

                  Harry tapped his pen on the notebook in his lap, trying to silently figure out why something about Louis seemed off tonight. If the guys love the song, wouldn't Louis be happier about that? He'd said that this was the first "masterpiece" to come out of their meetings in long time, so as far as Harry was concerned, that should be enough of a cause for celebration, even if just a little bit.

                 With a resigned sigh, Louis reached for the notebook and flipped to a blank page. Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and checked it before sticking it back into his pocket. Harry watched as Louis' lips tightened into a straight line.

                 "Anyway," Louis said, clearing his throat. "Throw a tune at me, Harold. We need a starting point."

                  "Is everything alright?" Harry asked instead, hoping it was okay if he pried.

                  For the first time in about an hour, Louis met Harry's gaze. "What? Yeah, everything's peachy, why?"

                  Harry raised a brow. "Just checking. Doesn't seem like it, is all."

                  "Yeah, yeah. It's all good. Tune?"

                  Though not even Harry's pinky believed Louis, he decided to humor him; because this was how they'd gotten further with the last song they worked on, Harry was able to hum a rhythm that he'd been thinking about and preparing for the last few hours. Louis nodded his head along with it at first, and Harry repeated it twice before Louis finally pressed his pen to the paper.

                 But nothing happened from there. Harry hummed the melody again, waiting for Louis to write something, but whatever the older lad had thought of must have left him. The next time Harry repeated the tune, he had an idea himself and reached for the notebook.

                  "My sister's been angry with me for the last couple days and it's starting to drive me bloody mad," Louis suddenly blurted. Harry's mind cleared, and he froze mid-reach so that his troubled friend could go on. "I've no fucking clue how to fix it, and I don't even know why it's getting under me skin so much."

                  Harry sat back and pursed his lips. Despite the curiosity burning on the tip of his tongue, begging to be set free, he held back and instead asked, "Have you apologized?"

                  "Of course," Louis practically scoffed. "And I've offered to take her out for dinner, and I'm trying to text her more often and be home more often and get along with her stupid boyfriend more often, but nothing is working."

                  This must be about that night when she couldn't find him, Harry realized. Where might he have gone? And why? "What did you do that upset her so much?" Harry knew that he was asking this question more so for himself than to help Louis, but he also knew that it would do both, so he couldn't help asking it.

                  If Harry wasn't mistaken, he was pretty sure that Louis' cheeks began to turn the color of a strawberry smoothie. "I just..." He sighed. "I was upset and I wanted to be by myself for a bit, without any interruptions or distractions. I wanted to drop off the grid, you know? So I shut my phone off, and I didn't come home when she thought I'd be home; she was worried and went out looking for me everywhere, and... Yeah. Bloody stupid, I know."

                  Before he could stop himself, Harry nodded, but Louis wasn't looking. Still, he figured he could try to lighten the mood. "Sort of was, yeah."

                  Louis looked at him again. Harry couldn't tell if he was amused or not. His face didn't really change.

                  So Harry continued. "I take it you don't want to tell her why you needed space that night?"

                  "I mean, not really, no. And I feel like I shouldn't have to. Is it wrong to want to keep certain things to myself? Is it bad of me to want that?"

                  "Do you feel bad for wanting that?" Harry countered.

                  Louis exhaled sharply through his nose. "I don't know."

                  "Well...maybe you're bothered by it because you do."

                  "Dammit." Reaching for the beer bottle that had been mostly ignored since they sat down in their corner a little while ago, Louis glared at the ceiling. "So what does that mean, oh wise one? That I'm bothered by wanting to keep things to myself. Am I a shitty person? Is that it? I feel like I can accept that, if that's the case. I just need an actual answer. 'S too much gray area going on here."

                  Harry chuckled. "I'm not that wise. But you're not a shitty person. I might be biased, though."

                  After Louis set his beer down, wincing a bit at the burn in his throat, half of his mouth lifted in a smirk. "What do you mean, you're biased?"

                  "I liked you even before I knew you," Harry explained, totally unaware that his words were more intimate than he'd intended them to be. "So of course I don't think you're shitty. Even now that I do know you."

                  Sort of sidetracked, Louis didn't say anything for a while. Harry finally reached for the notebook and hummed that tune to himself again, trying to remember the line he'd thought of before Louis decided he needed a therapy session. After a couple times, he finally got it back and excitedly scribbled it down. "Ah-ha!"

                  "So what do you think I should do about Lottie?" Louis asked. When Harry looked up, he found that Louis was still staring at him, this time expectantly.

                 "Tell her why you needed time to yourself."

                  "But I just – "

                  Harry stopped him with a raised hand. "Not whatever was bothering you that day, but why you needed a breather because of it. Tell her you needed a moment, you're sorry you didn't tell her in advance, and that the next time it happens you'll adjust your tactics accordingly. Tell her it isn't that you don't trust her with your deepest problems, it's that there are simply some things people are allowed to keep to themselves and that you hope she understands."

                  To be honest, Harry liked when he managed to somehow surprise Louis. His eyes always become extra small because he can't seem to comprehend everything that Harry is about, and the corners of his lips always turn up into the tiniest of smiles, but Harry is positive it's one of his favorite expressions Louis has ever made. He wanted to surprise Louis all the time. Louis finally stated, "This is all easier said than done, you know."

                  Harry grinned. "I know."

                  Louis rolled his eyes, but he was grateful; Harry could tell.

                  About an hour later, they'd gotten a chorus completed for this new song when Harry had an idea. He tossed his pen at Louis' chest to get his attention. "Hey."

                  Louis tossed the pen back at him. "Hey. What?"

                  "Want to get dinner with me tonight?"

                  For some reason, Louis' face turned the color of holly berries, his eyes widened, and his lips parted in shock. Harry realized his mistake and backtracked, feeling his own face begin to heat up. "I mean, you, Lottie, and me. The three of us. As an ice-breaker of sorts...sort of. I guess."

                  "Oh," Louis laughed. He reached up and patted his hair with his hand awkwardly, blowing air through his lips and looking away. "I mean, you don't have to, really. You've already given me enough help honestly; I don't want to be any trouble or anything."

                 Harry tried to disguise his disappointment, and somehow his brain decided to do so by rambling. "It wouldn't be trouble at all. I want to – it could be a thank you dinner for you both, for handling my drunk ass last night and for putting up with me even still, because I know I'm sort of, like, odd I guess, and I can come on really strong quite often, but I mean well, I swear, and it seems like you can tell, which I appreciate a lot, so – "

                  "Harry," Louis laughed, and the sound made Harry's face all warm again. "Okay. Dinner sounds great. Lot will probably have a great time. And you'll likely soften her up with all your long-winded sentences and curly hair and whatnot."

                  "What does my curly hair have to do with anything?"

                  Louis' closed-lip smile grew as his eyes flickered from Harry's face to his hair. After an extended pause, he admitted with a small shrug, "It's cute."

                  And Harry was warm all over now, not just in his face.

❄●❄

                  LOTTIE REALLY WASN'T anything like her brother, but Harry felt instantly comfortable with her, and they clicked really well. While Louis walked quietly on Harry's other side, their shoulders occasionally brushing, Lottie and Harry couldn't seem to stop talking once they started. They discussed their favorite foods and desserts, and Harry asked about her boyfriend just to tease Louis, and they often laughed at each other's horribly-timed puns and jokes. This was all before they'd even gotten to the restaurant.

                  Harry could tell that for some reason Louis had seemed annoyed by their quickly blossoming friendship at first, and he wished Louis would say more so that Lottie would feel inclined to interact with him in Harry's presence so as not to appear rude. But he didn't, even when Harry had tried to address him or turn the conversation over to him. If Louis hadn't told Harry otherwise, Harry probably would have thought Louis was the sibling who was too upset to speak to the other, not Lottie.

                 But thankfully, by the time they did finally arrive at Sweet Melodies, a cute little hole-in-the-wall place Ella recommended to Harry once, Louis had lightened up. And Harry hoped he'd lighten up even further here, because from what Ella had described, it seemed similar enough to Gibson's, and Louis loved Gibson's.

                  "Hello," the hostess greeted them when they walked in. "Table for three?"

                  "That'd be perfect, thanks," Harry smiled.

                  "Alright, follow me."

                  It was impossible not to be instantly charmed by the place. The walls were a caramel brown wood, a kind Harry didn't know the name of, but they made him think of hot chocolate, and he loved hot chocolate. Where three of the walls met the ceiling, off-white Christmas lights twinkled, inviting them in like little winter fairies.

                 The hostess led them up a staircase to a loft against the fourth wall, and suddenly beside him Harry heard Louis attempt to contain a gentle gasp. Unable to help himself, he peeked over to his right; Louis's eyes were glued to the dangling light bulbs that lined the rafters, glittering with soft reflections. Harry quickly turned away so that he wouldn't be caught staring and ruin whatever Louis must be feeling to look that way.

                  "Here we go," the hostess said, stopping them in front of a corner table. "The drinks menu is tucked away right there," she pointed, "and your waiter will be right with you."

                  "Thank you," Louis told her, flashing her a smile that Harry hasn't seen all night yet. That was a good sign, he figured.

                  "This place is like a dream. How'd you even hear of it?" Lottie asked, hanging her coat over her chair.

                  Harry took a seat across from her and took Louis' bag from him to set in the chair beside him so that Louis would be forced to sit by his sister. If the older lad noticed, he didn't react, sliding out of his own coat and continuing to gaze at the dangling lights in something close to amazement.

                  "A friend from work told me about it," Harry shrugged, pleased that they both seemed to be enjoying themselves so far. "She promised incredible food and an even better atmosphere."

                  Louis's gaze dropped to Harry. "Well, she's not wrong so far."

                  Harry nodded. "It's got a little something, doesn't it?"

                  "It's seriously cool."

                  Lottie reached for the drink menu and began flipping through it; Harry was aware of her eyes occasionally flickering up and between himself and her brother, but he wasn't going to make it awkward by letting her know he noticed. He was afraid she'd say something, and the truth of the matter was that he really didn't know Louis very well yet at all. They were becoming fast friends, sure, but it's still only been a few days. That's hardly enough time to have a proper friendship with someone let alone to admit aloud to having a tiny crush on them.

                  Harry cleared his throat, taking the drinks menu when Lottie passed it to him. "I think if I ever own a place someday, it'll look something like this."

                  Louis nodded. "Definitely. Yes. I'm really into these lights. I think they'd look quite nice in a room without many windows, you know? Sort of...sensual and moody."

                  Taken by surprise at Louis' casual use of the word sensual and his description of a nearly windowless room, Harry dropped his eyes to the menu, knowing full well that his face was screaming about how fond he was of this human. "That's quite the room you're describing, there."

                  Lottie began to giggle, pressing her fingers against her lips to stifle it. "I'll definitely be moved out by then."

                  "Oh, get your minds out of the gutter," Louis scoffed. "You both knew what I meant."

                  "Did we?" Lottie snickered, raising a brow at Harry, who hasn't stopped blushing this entire conversation and who was extremely grateful that it was hopefully too dim in there to notice.

                  Louis chuckled, reaching for the drinks menu even though Harry hadn't figured out what he wanted yet. Once he had it, he glanced back up. "Your dimple is out of this world right now, Harold." He nudged his sister. "Look at it. Another ocean could fit in there."

                  "Ooh, yeah," Lottie agreed, grinning. Her own dimple – albeit smaller than Harry's – appeared. "What should we call it?"

                  "Hmm." Louis began to tap a finger against his chin. "Good question."

                  "I'm so glad you're both having fun at my very fragile expense," Harry stated dryly, though he was telling the truth.

                   "I'll have to think on it," Lottie nodded. "It's important that we give it a proper name, I think."

                  "We can't just half-ass it," Louis agreed. "For sure. For sure."

                   Their antics were interrupted, then, when a guy in an outfit similar to the hostess's appeared beside their table.

                  "Good evening. How are you all doing tonight? My name is Eli and I'll be your server. Let's get some drinks started, yeah?"

❄●❄

                  IT WAS A nice enough night, and Louis claimed he was in too good of a mood to settle in for the night yet, so after they brought Lottie back to their flat, Louis decided to walk Harry home. Harry tried insisting on taking a cab again, but truthfully he couldn't actually afford it and he really wanted to stick around Louis for a little while longer.

                  Harry was glad he'd offered to take them out tonight. He was pretty sure it smoothed things over between them, especially as the night went on. There they were, in a sort of fancy restaurant, passing around a napkin in the middle of their meal to write a poem line by line together. That had been different than how writing with Louis usually went, because for some bizarre reason he could not seem to take it seriously. Lottie couldn't stop laughing every time she'd read Louis' most recent line, as it always contrasted Harry's poetic ones; Harry could write 'Fire light flickers across your face in a dance,' and Louis would follow with 'It looked like fireworks exploding in my pants.' By the time they'd finished, Lottie's eyes were wet and she had to catch her breath.

                  Battling with a grin that's been threatening to break free all night, Harry began to chew on his bottom lip, tucking his hands into his coat pockets and dropping his eyes to watch Louis' feet beside his own on the sidewalk.

                  "What's that look for?" Louis asked, though, and Harry wondered if he'd been watching him.

                  He didn't mind if he was right. "Hm? Nothing. Tonight was fun."

                  They were walking so close again that their shoulders brushed, and Harry tried to pretend that he hadn't noticed all the room on the sidewalk on Louis' other side and how little room there was on his own side.

                  "It was. Lottie likes you."

                  "Yeah? How can you tell?"

                  Louis bristled a bit beneath his jacket, hunching his shoulders and bringing his hands up to his lips to breathe on them. At first, Harry didn't realize why, and Louis answered, "She wouldn't have opened up to you as quickly if she didn't. She can be quite shy. God, it's fucking freezing out, isn't it? Damn."

                  Oh. Harry hadn't even noticed. "Do you want my jacket?"

                  Louis looked over at him, raising a brow. "You'll freeze your ass off. Keep that on."

                  Rolling his eyes, Harry shrugged it off anyway.

                  "Harry, n – " When the jacket landed in his arms, he sighed. "I'm fine. Really." But he pulled it on over the top of his own anyway. After a moment, he said, "Thanks."

                  Fighting that grin again, Harry looked over at him and nodded. "Looks good on you."

                  "Yes, I'm sure I look like a fabulous little marshmallow right now."

                  Their laughter bounced off the buildings that lined both sides of the street, and then they fell into another comfortable silence for a while. Harry knew they weren't far from the hotel now, and even though they weren't really talking, he wished this night could last forever. Unfortunately, though, it couldn't.

                  "Here?" Louis was asking, peering up at the twelve-story building. "You're living in a hotel?"

                  "I am," Harry said, tipping his head at the doorman. They'd stopped walking, so he turned to face Louis. "I'd invite you in, but it's late and if I were you, I would want to get back so that you can catch Lottie before she goes to bed while dinner is still fresh in her mind."

                  Louis nodded. "Yeah. I'd accept your invitation, but you're right. I should get back."

                  His hair was sort of messy, Harry realized. Maybe the wind had done it, but he didn't remember it being so disheveled at the restaurant. He liked it better this way. "Good to know, I suppose. For future reference."

                  A slow smile began to bloom on Louis' face; he dropped his eyes for a second, which gave Harry a moment to recognize that he was definitely flirting and that he should probably stop before he freaked Louis out.

                  "Future reference," Louis finally echoed, looking back up. "Yeah."

                  Harry wrinkled his nose and cleared his throat. "Well..."

                  "Thanks again for tonight. I owe you one."

                  "No, definitely not," Harry insisted, waving a hand. "You put me up last night when you shouldn't have had to. This was me owing you one. We're good."

                  "It's too cold to argue with you, Harry, but just know that you're wrong and I'm right," Louis said. Harry's head was spinning at the sound of Louis saying his name, as it did whenever he said it. "Oh, your jacket."

                  "Keep it tonight. I'll get it back tomorrow or something. You've got to walk all the way back to your place."

                  In response, Louis hunched his shoulders again, and half of his face became tucked into the collar of the jacket. "It smells like you."

                  "What do I smell like, exactly?"

                     Louis began to back away, wearing a mischievous half-smile now that had Harry all kinds of attracted and wishing he wouldn't leave yet. "That's a conversation for a different day, young Harold."

                  "Tease."

                  Before he could turn away quickly enough, Harry spotted Louis' smirk dissolve into a toothy grin. "See you tomorrow!"

                  It was almost embarrassing how much his breath shook when he exhaled, but at least Louis wasn't near enough to hear it. Harry watched his retreating figure for a moment, finally giving in to that grin that would surely break his face somehow, but he didn't care about that. He didn't really care about anything other than how wonderful tonight had been and how much he couldn't wait to see Louis again tomorrow at some point.

                  Quite a ways away, just beforeHarry could head inside, he spotted Louis glance back over his shoulder. He was too far away and it was too dark forHarry to make out the expression on his face after realizing that Harry waswatching him go, but he hoped it was a good one.