C H A P T E R    T W E N T Y T H R E E

Lunch and Lullabies

❄●❄

                  "THE SNOW'S COMING down. I'm watching it fall."

                  Harry smiled and nodded encouragingly at Olivia, who bravely offered to take the solo for this song two weeks ago. This was their first time running through the entire thing, and she kind of looked like she wanted to run away and never return, but she was doing well.

                  "Lots of people around," she continued. "Baby, please come home."

                  Harry was stood at the front of the group again, this time with Ella at his side, and they were both helping to direct everyone who wasn't Olivia. Almost everyone who agreed to carol with them showed up for practice today; it was the largest group they've had yet, and Harry couldn't direct every single part by himself.

                  "The church bells in town, they're ringing a song. What a happy sound. Baby, please come home." Olivia closed her eyes and a small smile graced her lips. Harry felt like he was intruding on maybe one of her Christmas memories. "They're singing deck the halls, but it's not like Christmas at all. I remember when you were here and all the fun we had last year."

                  When they finished that one, they ran through Yes, Virginia – the only flaws occurring because of those who missed the last few practices, but they were quickly remedied. After that, Ella called time and everyone began to depart. Due to some sort of scheduling conflict, practice was held in the morning before a lot peoples' shifts at the hotel, so it couldn't run very long. Still, a lot more people showed up than usual, so Harry began considering a permanent time change on his way over to Olivia, who was pulling her jacket on and adjusting her scarf near the door.

                  "You sounded great today," Harry told her, offering her a hand with her gloves. She hadn't put them on before pulling on her coat, so she couldn't tuck them into her sleeves on her own. "Really solid. The song works well for your voice, I think."

                  She was always very shy, no matter how many times Harry tried to interact with her. But she was nice, and Harry suspected she wasn't bothered by his persistent attempts at a friendship. "Thank you. I'm not a stranger to caroling, though, I have to admit."

                  "No?"

                  "No. My, uh... My dad was really into Christmas when I was younger. Haven't seen him in years, but even after, I liked to carry on our holiday traditions for my younger siblings. It's just a nice time of year, you know? Of course you know," she laughed. "You're the first person I've met I think who loves Christmas as much as him."

                  "Your dad?" Harry wondered, surprised. Perhaps he misjudged her. Maybe she isn't so shy anymore. Maybe he finally cracked her walls a bit.

                  She nodded, clearing her throat, and Harry could tell that was about all she was going to say on the matter. But he was curious.

                  "Even after," he began, furrowing his brow. "Even after what?"

                  "Hm?"

                  "You said that you haven't seen him in years, but even after, you made Christmas special for your siblings. After what?"

                  Her lips tightened into a straight line; her eyes dropped to her boots. Harry worried he might have overstepped, but before he could apologize, she said, "After he left. All Mum ever told us was that he had some other family to take care of for a while and that he'd be back, but..." she shrugged. "He's not back yet, so."

                  "Oh," Harry frowned. "I'm sorry. And I didn't mean to pry, I just – "

                  "It's okay," she said quickly, touching his arm. "It wasn't all bad. My siblings were young enough that I was able to convince him he was going to take over Santa's job at the North Pole." Her smile returned little by little with every word. "Mum said his family was all in the north, so. It was sort of believable. For them, anyway. And I liked telling the stories."

                  Harry nodded. He felt bad for asking so many questions, but at the same time he was glad that he knew more about her now. He did promise, after all, that he'd make this the best Christmas Olivia's had in years. And now he knew where things went wrong for her. He wasn't sure what he'd be able to do yet, but something would come to him. If there was one thing he was good at, it was Christmas.

                  Then a thought occurred to him.

                  "Did your mum ever, like... Tell you where north, exactly?" he asked slowly, the gears in his head turning.

                  "If you're asking so that you could offer to help me track him down, don't bother," she sighed. "Tried that already. She either didn't know or wouldn't say. I kind of think she knows, but whenever I try to get her to tell me anything, she shuts down the conversation entirely. I don't know. I figure if she doesn't want me to know, then that's all I can do. Right?"

                  Harry could feel that his eyes were narrowed while he thought about this, but he hoped Olivia couldn't really tell why. To distract her, he said, "You seem really...healthy about this."

                  She shrugged. "My dad raised me and my siblings well. I was old enough to not resent him for it. I believe that he loved us, you know? Never had a reason to doubt it. So I can only assume that he left for something really important, and I can't hold a grudge against him for that I guess. I don't know."

                  "It's impressive, honestly. I don't know many people who would feel the same way. It's cool to hear."

                  She smiled. "I've got to head out. I'm actually meeting my sister for lunch soon to discuss holiday plans."

                  "Invite her to the party here. Invite all of your siblings!"

                  "We'll see," she nodded. "It's an option. Regardless, I'll be there. You've made a promise, and I'm too interested to see how you keep it."

                  Harry shut his brain off for a second to beam at her. "From my professional point of view, you're going to love it."

                  "Your professional point of view?"

                  Startled, Harry nearly laughed aloud when he realized who he was quoting.

                  "And my regular point of view," he breathed. "Both of them agree."

❄●❄

                  HARRY WAS GOING to bring Louis lunch at work. They haven't spoken all morning, as they were both quite busy, but Harry had the day off and he's always wanted to surprise Lou at the school. Today would be perfect.

                  On his way to the deli where he was going to get their sandwiches, Harry thought about Olivia again. He knew that the hotel was a common place for elves to work and live; that's how he was able to get in there so easily. It's usually set up in advance whenever a Hit-Maker Elf makes plans to spend some time in London. There are hotels like this one all over the world, ready to house a North Pole native when needed.

                  Olivia didn't live there, and she wasn't an elf. Harry didn't even think she was a half-elf like he was. If she were either, she'd still adore Christmas no matter the circumstances. That's just...how it worked. And her backstory was too intricate and honest. She wasn't an elf or a half-elf.

                  But her dad might have been. Too many details in her story were lining up for it to be a coincidence, and it would explain why she lives near the hotel. Any elf that comes from the North Pole as a Hit-Maker doesn't have to live at the hotel if they can afford to live somewhere else, but they usually don't stray too far. It happens, but it's uncommon.

                  And if Olivia didn't know her father was an elf, then perhaps he was only a half-elf. Like Harry, some half-elves don't have the pointed ears or some of the other qualities and mannerisms associated with elves. He could have been one of them. She and her siblings wouldn't have known any better the same way that everyone Harry meets here doesn't know any better.

                  If that's true, then her father was likely a Hit-Maker Elf. Hell, Harry's probably even met him already. He isn't sure what would have made Olivia's father return to the North Pole if this is the case, but considering Harry knows a guy, he could probably figure it all out. And then maybe he'd be able to help Olivia and her siblings truly have the best Christmas ever.

                  Before pushing through the glass door of the deli, Harry pulled his cell phone out and sent Ed a text.

                  I need you to do me a huge favor.

                  It was a lot warmer inside than it was outside, and Harry was already pretty immune to the cold. In here he wanted to shed his sweater and go shirtless, but he's pretty sure that was not only inappropriate, it was also illegal. At least it wasn't very crowded. He slipped his light jacket off and draped it over his arm as he approached the counter.

                  While he was waiting in line, Ed responded.

                  What's up?

                  Harry pursed his lips, unsure of how to word it. He gave it his best go. I need you to find out if there are any half-elves working at the Hit-Maker House. I might be wrong about all this, but if I'm right, there's a guy who works there. He'd be older, probably around my mum's age. Human ears.

                  "Harry?"

                  After the message was sent, Harry looked around at the sound of his name. He hardly knows anybody. Who would have recognized him here?

                  Suddenly, a hand clamped lightly over his shoulder. "Hey, mate. How've you been?"

                  Harry turned. "Liam, hi. I'm well, you?"

                  The human in question had two paper bags clenched in his other fist, and his smile was as warm and bright as it usually was. Harry smiled without a second's hesitation because it's usually impossible not to whenever Liam's concerned.

                  "Great. Zayn and I are apparently going to eat lunch on a bench somewhere," he laughed. "I've no idea what he's on about, honestly. I was just told to grab the food. Want to join us?"

                  "I'm actually grabbing lunch for myself and Louis. I'm surprising him at the school."

                  Liam nodded knowingly. "He'll like that. You guys are... Well, you guys are sort of, like...seeing each other, right?"

                  Harry felt his face warm and his smile widen and he felt all of his insides begin to tumble about like clothes inside a dryer, but he hoped Liam wouldn't notice any of those things. "Uh," he laughed awkwardly. "I don't know. I hope so."

                  Liam's expression broke into the most blinding grin Harry's ever seen him wear. He almost jerked back in surprise. "I knew it. I mean, Zayn said you both sort of admitted it already, but it's still cool to hear one of you say it. Has he said it?"

                  "Louis?" Harry asked, and Liam nodded. "Yeah. He called me his boyfriend in front of his mum."

                  Liam's reaction to that was a lot different than Harry was expecting. The grin wiped clean off his face in an instant and he stared at Harry with wide, solemn eyes. "He did? Do you realize how huge that is? Holy shit."

                  "I didn't even... We didn't even really talk about it either. He just said it. I don't know if that means we are or if he just said it to make sure his mum knew we were involved, but," Harry shrugged. "Yeah. That happened. Also tell Zayn he's the worst secret-keeper ever."

                  Liam still seemed stunned by the Louis news, but he managed to tilt his head and offer a crooked smile. "Zayn can't keep shit from me even if he wanted to. He's the worst fucking liar on the planet."

                  Harry raised a brow. "You guys close? You and Zayn?"

                  Liam checked the time on his watch and nodded. "Yeah, we've been best mates for a while. I mean, Louis is probably Zayn's best mate, but he's mine. He was the first person I met when I moved here some years ago."

                  Harry smiled. "That's nice. And he seems to like you a lot. Who knows? You might be his best mate too." Teasing, Harry nudged him in the ribs with his elbow.

                  "Maybe," Liam chuckled. Then he took a deep breath and exhaled quickly before blurting, "I actually think it's a little different for him. I don't know. I might be reading into it wrong, but sometimes I think he might... Like, when you're with all of us, does it seem like he treats me a little differently than the others?"

                  There was now only one person separating Harry from his sandwiches, but he was so intrigued by where this conversation was going that he almost wanted to step out of the line and finish discussing it with Liam. However, he had to get these sandwiches and go, and he's sure that Liam's got a time limit as well.

                  "I think he likes me," he finally said.

                  "Like Louis likes his cats?"

                  "What?"

                  "Never mind," Harry waved a hand. "I could see it. He does treat you a little differently as far as I can tell, but I can't say I'm very observant of anything that isn't small and kitten-like and curses like a sailor. Is it a bad thing that he might like you?"

                  Liam's eyes widened and he began shaking his head immediately. "No, no, no. Not a bad thing. Just...an unexpected thing."

                  "Hold on a second," Harry told him, stepping up to the counter to finally place his order. He had no idea what kind of sandwich Louis liked, but he hoped that at least one of them would do. And then he stepped off to the side to wait for his order. Liam followed.

                  "So anyway, it's unexpected that he likes you," Harry clarified. "But you aren't opposed to it."

                  "No."

                  "Do you like it, then?"

                  "I...don't know," Liam admitted. "It made me want to hang out with him more? Does that help explain anything?"

                  Harry laughed, grabbing his completed order when it was handed to him. "Yeah. You like him like Louis likes his cats."

                  "I don't understand what that means."

                  "Did you drive here?" Harry asked instead of explaining.

                  "Uh, yeah. Want a ride to the school?"

                  "Please and thank you."

❄●❄

                  HARRY ONLY GOT lost twice on his way up to Louis' classroom. The first time, a young boy with cinnamon hair and freckles (who reminded him an awful lot of one the elflings he used to spend time with back home) pointed him in the right-ish direction, and then the second time Harry happened to hear Louis shout something on the other side of the third floor.

                  With almost every student down in the cafeteria, the hallways were nearly empty. Quiet conversations could be heard inside some of the classrooms where some teachers had gathered into small groups of two or three to eat lunch together, but Harry couldn't make any of them out. That's why he was so surprised to hear Louis from so far away even with empty halls.

                  When he finally found Louis' room, the man in question was just hanging up his cell phone. He was wearing his glasses today, and his hair was relatively tame. Harry wondered for a moment, leaning a shoulder silently against the door frame, if Louis tussles his hair before seeing anyone after work. Because Harry wasn't sure if he's ever seen him look so...put together.

                  It was kind of nice in a surprising way. Louis was across the room gazing out his windows with a weird, mischievous smirk on his face that could have only been caused by whoever he was just speaking with on the phone. He was leaning toward the view with a hand supporting his weight against the glass, and after he tucked his cell phone into his pocket, he propped his other hand on his hip.

                  Harry allowed himself another moment to admire the sight before making himself known. Louis didn't wear braces often, but he was wearing them today over a sky blue collared shirt that was buttoned all the way. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and his fitted black jeans did not scream secondary school English teacher, but Harry couldn't deny that he wouldn't mind seeing Louis like this all the time. Maybe he should surprise him with lunch more often.

                  "Is that your stomach I hear growling all the way over here?" Harry broke the silence, putting on his most concerned expression. Louis whipped around so quickly Harry was surprised he didn't hurt his neck. "Fear not. I've come to satiate it."

                  Louis was already walking over to him, a new smile on his face. "Hey. What are you doing here?"

                  "Brought lunch. Hope sandwiches are alright?" Harry shut the door behind him and once Louis reached him, he used his free hand to press against the small of Louis' back while he bent to kiss him hello. "How are you today?"

                  Louis took one of the sandwich bags. "I was great, and now I'm greater. You?"

                  Harry smiled. "I'm not usually one to copy, but same."

                  "Good. Sit with me. I forgot to tell you something the last couple days, but I've just been reminded. You're going to fucking love it."

                  As they slid into two of the students' desks in the front row, Harry asked, "Who were you talking to on the phone? I could hear you on the other side of the floor."

                  "Zayn. The phone call is what reminded me. When you got back from your trip, he brought me lunch and dropped the biggest bombshell ever. I literally had to re-evaluate the last several years of my life because I was so bloody caught off guard and I'd been convinced he was faking the entire thing, and – "

                  "Faking what entire thing?"

                  Louis held up a finger animatedly. "I'm getting there. So yeah, he's sitting in your desk and I'm at mine and he tells me he's got this date, right? I asked him what her name was – "

                  "Her?"

                  "What do you mean?"

                  Harry knew that he must look dumbfounded, but that's because he was. Didn't he just have a conversation with Liam about this? "Sorry. I was under the impression that, uh... Well I guess I thought Zayn liked Liam. Is that wrong?"

                  Now it was Louis who looked dumbfounded. His jaw even hung a little slack. "What the fuck? Was I the only one who thought Zayn had been pulling all our legs? I genuinely thought he'd just been putting on an act with the whole Liam thing, but here you come and you've known them for just a few months and you picked up on it instantly. Fuck me."

                  Harry chuckled and unwrapped his sandwich. "You've given me too much credit. I ran into Liam today and we discussed this."

                  With his thunder stolen from him, Louis sat back in his chair. "Oh." But he perked back up just as quickly. "So what did he say? Did he mention the date? Did he mention anything worthy of my bugging you about it?"

                  "I actually think they're on another date right now. He was picking up lunch for the two of them at the deli as well, and then I guess they were going to go eat on a bench somewhere? I don't know, he didn't seem to know much about it."

                  Louis grinned. He still hadn't unwrapped his sandwich. "So it went well then. Hell yes. Get it, Zayn."

                  Wow, he really is in a good mood. "And then Liam asked me if I'd ever noticed that Zayn treated him differently when we were all together, and to be honest...my attention was usually pretty occupied. But I think Liam returns the sentiment. He might just be a little more confused about it still."

                  "Just now on the phone, before you got here, Zayn told me that he wants to tell him. Not today or anything – maybe not even this week, but sometime soon. I feel like he might have been waiting for some kind of assurance that Liam could like him back, so that's fantastic news, H."

                  "We make a good undercover team, eh?"

                  "Even by accident," Louis allowed, raising his still unwrapped sandwich like a glass of champagne in a toast.

                  Harry raised his as well. "Cheers. You not hungry?"

                  "Hm? Oh, right. Sorry," he chuckled, shaking his head. "It's been a good day. Feels like there's a lot on my mind; I almost forgot that you were here for lunch and not just to gossip about our friends."

                  "We'll do that next time I surprise you. It'll be solely a gossip fest." Harry watched Louis slowly unwrap the sandwich. He was smiling down at his food, but Harry could tell his mind was elsewhere. Probably on Zayn and Liam's potentially budding relationship. But even once the sandwich was completely unwrapped, Louis didn't look like he intended to eat it. "Lou?"

                  "Let's talk," he blurted then, setting the sandwich down. He folded his hands and set them in his lap and lifted his gaze to Harry.

                  Trying to ignore the sudden spark of dread coursing through him, Harry hesitantly set his own sandwich down and mirrored Louis' position. "Alright. What's going on? Have I done something wrong?"

                  This wasn't the response Louis had apparently been expecting. "What? Of course not."

                  "Oh. Then what do you want to talk about?"

                  A beat of silence passed where Louis just stared. The only thing that stopped Harry from prompting him to go on was the look in his eyes. He still looked exceptionally happy, and Harry really believed Louis must be in a great mood. But his eyes looked stormy, so there was definitely something important he wanted to talk about. And Harry would rather sit there all day waiting than rush him to finish working out whatever he needed to first before he spoke.

                  "Every Christmas Eve – every birthday – for four years after my father left, my mum just kind of...shut herself off. We didn't celebrate anything at all. Just went about our business like it was any other day of the year."

                  Oh. This is what he wanted to talk about. Harry cleared his throat. "Even your birthday?"

                  "Yeah. My birthday, Christmas day...we celebrated nothing. But then the fifth year, my best mate died in a car accident with his older brother a week before the holidays, and suddenly Mum woke up from her funk and tried to make sure we had the best fucking Christmas ever. I needed therapy anyway," Louis sighed, propping his chin up on his fist. "Started believing that anyone I cared about would leave somehow eventually. Which was rubbish, of course. I got over it in time for another best fucking Christmas ever."

                  Harry honestly felt like he could be sick, but he knew that there's no way this was the worst of it. Something even more awful than his best friend dying and an over-compensating mother had to have happened. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to know anymore.

                  "My sisters loved it. Lottie was sort of old enough to realize how weird Mum was being, but she was also young enough to enjoy it. She got presents. We had cake for my birthday again. The rest of our family started coming back around because Mum would invite them. What wouldn't she or any of the girls not love about that? I must have had trust issues at that point, I don't fucking know," he laughed humorlessly. "That went on for a couple more years before one day she told me she'd been in contact with my father and that he was going to come visit for my sixteenth birthday. I don't know why I believed her."

                  "She lied?" Harry practically whimpered. Get it together. This isn't your sob story, it's his.

                  "No, no. My father lied. He never showed, but I thought he would. It might have been the worst birthday of my life. The next year, Mum said she could get ahold of him again if I wanted, but I told her not to bother. And then... Well, things were pretty calm until I went to uni. That's where I met Zayn, by the way."

                   "Yeah, I think you told me that before. Or somebody did."

                  Lou nodded. "Yeah. I was kind of awful back then. To everyone – Zayn, my mum, my sisters even. Especially to my professors. Still have no idea why they passed me. Actually, they probably did it just to get me out of there. I never told Zayn about my birthday, so on our first Christmas Eve together I convinced him to get royally pissed with me, and then we snuck onto the school's footy field and played strip football."

                  "Sorry? What's strip football?"

                  With an odd half smile, Louis sat back in his chair and said, "You've not lived, young Harold, until you've played strip football. Although I recommend not doing it in the dead of winter. It's essentially one on one, and every time someone scores, the other person has to remove an article of clothing. I was down to my socks, and Zayn was still in his briefs when I passed out. I mean, I think we both did. 'M not sure anymore. We both woke up in the hospital on Christmas morning. Our parents were there – Zayn's mum nearly yanked him right out of uni and took him home with her that day. I don't even remember what we said anymore to convince them to let us stay."

                  "But I don't understand. Why would you... Why would you do that to yourselves?" Harry asked, desperate. "You had to have known that it was dangerous."

                  With another humorless chuckle, Louis explained. "Zayn was my only friend. At least at that time, and I didn't expect to make many more. I didn't want to weird him out with my resentment toward Christmas, so I gave him a reason to hate it as much as I did. Even if he didn't hate it like I did, it was still a rough enough experience that if I ever showed any aversion to the topic, he'd get it."

                  "Shit," Harry breathed. "I mean, that was...genius. But shit, Lou."

                  "My brain worked in mysterious ways back in the day. I was a marvel. If only you'd known me."

                  Harry snorted and rolled his eyes, sitting back in his own chair finally and folding his arms on top of his chest. He waited for Louis to continue, picking up his sandwich for another bite. But then Louis did the same.

                  "So there you have it," he said. "Now you know why I hate Christmas."

                  No, Harry thought. There's more. I have no actual reason to suspect you're lying, but you're lying. "What... You were having such a good day. Why did you tell me now?" It wasn't what he wanted to ask, but it was a good enough question for now until he could find a way to figure out if he was right about Louis still keeping something from him.

                  "I guess I just figured that... Well. Like you said, it's been a good day. I slept well last night, woke up not tired, ate a decent breakfast. My kids have all been relatively well-behaved, and Zayn and Liam are doing well. You surprised me with lunch, and we get to write with the lads tonight. It just...felt like a good day to do it. If any of it upset me, I have the second half of the day to fall back on, and I mean...I have you. You're off today, yeah? And you work tomorrow afternoon? So if I needed you tonight or into the morning, I knew that I had you."

                  Touched enough that he totally forgot what he might have been thinking about before Louis' little speech, Harry slipped out of his desk and bent to kiss Louis again. It was more than a simple hello peck, but he knew they were in a school, so he kept it short. He pulled away only far enough to see Louis' eyes while he ran a thumb over Louis' left cheekbone, and he said, "You always have me. Even on the bad days. Even if I do have work."

                  Louis grinned. "Cheeky, Harry."

                  "I'm not sorry."

                  "Good."

                  Finally, they returned to their sandwiches. Harry finished his quickly, but Louis was only half done when the bell rang. He glanced at the clock and turned regretfully toward Harry. "I know I have my prep period now, but I have to finish creating the assignments for my next two classes and I think we both know you'd end up distracting me, so – "

                  "Not on purpose," Harry insisted, only mildly offended.

                  "Obviously not. But have you seen yourself today? Are you trying to overwhelm me?"

                  And really, Harry could have spent the rest of Louis' prep period explaining to him how much he was overwhelming Harry with the braces and the glasses and such, but he had mercy instead. Scoffing, he stood to throw out his trash, and Louis followed him to the door. "Look who's dripping charm now."

                  "I learn from the best."

                  With a hand on the door knob, Harry smiled. "I'll be at yours when you're finished. Tommy and I have plans to ruin our friendship via Mario Kart until Lottie whisks him away for their date tonight."

                  "Oh yeah. I forgot about that. Want to go to Gibson's before Liam's?"

                  "I always want to go to Gibson's."

                  Louis lifted himself onto his tiptoes to kiss Harry's cheek, which was so unexpected that Harry might have even blushed. "Perfect. See you soon. Thanks for lunch."

                  "We'll talk later?"

                  "Don't need to. You know everything now. Bye."

                  But as Harry left the school, he remembered that he was pretty positive that he didn't know everything. There had to be more. He wished there wasn't. He'd give anything for Louis to have only suffered as much as he told Harry about...less than that, if it were possible to take any of it away. But there was just something about the silence after the last bit of the story. It felt like the calm before the storm, only it happened after the storm. Which leads Harry to believe that none of that was the storm at all.

                  Sighing, he pulled his phone out to check the time. He could always call Liam for another ride if he missed the bus, but he didn't want to inconvenience anyone. And anyway, he had an unread message from Ed, who must have texted him back a while ago.

                  Why, exactly, am I looking for this guy?

                  Harry mulled it over, but eventually he decided to just give a partial truth. I think I work with his daughter. Her name is Olivia, if that helps. Just please help me out.

                  And thankfully, he'd make it just in time for the bus.

❄●❄

                  WHEN LOUIS GOT home, Harry was about to lose his first race to Tommy. They'd been playing for a couple hours, and sure, Harry was pretty good. But of course the one time he loses will be in front of Louis.

                  With his pride shot, Harry gave Louis his controller and went to make the three of them a pizza. He also liked to see Louis and Tommy getting along, and while they seemed friendly enough toward each other the last couple times Tommy's been over, there was nothing wrong with making sure.

                  Lottie finished with work by the time the boys finished the pizza. Tommy only had one piece to save room for wherever the two of them were going for dinner, which left the rest of the pizza for Louis and Harry to devour. They ended up leaving before Lottie and Tommy did for Gibson's, and when they got there, Harry was happy to see that Molly was working.

                  "Wow, long time no see," she greeted them. "I didn't realize that introducing you to each other would mean I'd lose my best customers."

                  "You haven't lost us, love," Louis told her, handing her enough money to pay for both their drinks without actually ordering them. "We've just been a bit busy is all."

                  "I'll bring you more of my peppermint sugar cookies as an apology," Harry added.

                  She rolled her eyes, a corner of her lips lifting into a knowing smirk, and then she disappeared to make their drinks.

                  "Why don't you ever bake me cookies?" Louis asked, feigning a pout.

                  "I'll bake you anything you want, babe."

                  Molly returned just in time to witness Louis's face blossom into a striking red, and they left her for the black sofa in the back corner of the diner as she watched them with a raised brow.

                  They sat close enough together that they could share Louis' notebook, and they began to dabble with a few lyrical ideas Louis had earlier that day while he was at work. But probably due to the decency of the day that both of them have already experienced so far, neither could take the other seriously. Harry knew they were giggling like young school girls for a better part of the two hours they were there. He only worried about bothering the other customers once before the sound of Louis' laugh spread through him like a cleansing reminder of everything he never knew he wanted but was grateful for now. And he was the one who'd caused that laugh. What a feeling.

                  They alternated between getting the refills, and every time Harry had to go to up to the counter, he struggled finding new ways to avoid Molly's inquiries about whether he and Louis were an item now. It's not that he wanted it to be a secret necessarily, but he knew that Louis kept parts of his life out of conversation with Molly, who he liked a lot but didn't consider an actual friend. She was still in school, and it just seemed weird to Louis to disclose so much of his private life to her. Harry figured he could respect that gracefully.

                  Louis decided they should leave for Liam's a little early so that he could tease Zayn if Zayn was already there. And it was unsurprising that he was. Only, so was Niall.

                  "Were we the only ones who didn't get the memo about starting an hour early?" Louis demanded tossing his jacket directly into Liam's face when he answered the door. Harry mumbled an apology on Lou's behalf and quickly followed him into the living room.

                  "You're here, aren't ya?" Niall countered, his mouth full of popcorn already. "Hey, mate," he said to Harry. "How the fuck you been?"

                  "I'm well. You?"

                  "Starving – "

                  "As per usual," Zayn interjected, eyes glued to his phone while he sat curled up on an end of the sofa.

                  "—and happy to be here."

                  "Also as per usual."

                  "Bite me, Zayn."

                  "You wish."

                  "Anyone thirsty?" Liam called from the kitchen.

                  "All of us," Louis called back before anyone could say anything.

                  That didn't stop Zayn from hopping off the sofa and mumbling, "I'll give him a hand," before scurrying off like a puppy who's been called to dinner. Louis snickered beside Harry for a moment before tangling their fingers together and pulling him to take Zayn's spot on the sofa. When they sat, Louis continued to hold his hand and brought them onto his lap. Niall stared all the while, and Harry was certain he must be beaming with pride.

                  "When do we record next?" Louis asked, propping his feet up on the coffee table just as Liam and Zayn returned with five bottles of beer.

                  Zayn sat beside Louis wordlessly, his phone out again. With his free hand, he reached over and patted their clasped hands twice like he would the head of a baby animal but otherwise didn't draw attention to it. Liam fell into the recliner and propped his feet up on the coffee table as well.

                  "This weekend. Niall recently came into some money, so we've got an actual legitimate time slot, which means we've got to figure out what we're going to do with it as soon as possible," Liam said.

                  "Where the hell did you get enough money to pay for an entire slot?" Louis asked the Irishman.

                  He shrugged. "If I tell you, I'd have to kill you."

                  "He won it in a game of poker," Zayn explained, sounding bored.

                  "Either way, yeah, so that's happening this weekend," Liam continued. "I say tonight we finish up those two songs we were working on last time and maybe see if we can fix that piano part at the end of McSteamy. I feel like – "

                  "Cheekbones?" Harry's ears had perked up at the sound of his poem's nickname. He just remembered he never got to hear the completed version.

                  "Hm?" Louis asked quietly as if not to interrupt the others.

                  "The song," Harry explained. "Cheekbones. That's what it's called, remember?"

                  "I actually quite like that," Liam nodded, his lips pursed like he was impressed. "Cheekbones."

                  "Oh," Louis nodded. "Right, right. Let's actually start with that one, lads. Harry's been dying to hear it."

                  Zayn leaned forward to peer at Harry around Louis, an amused sneer on his face that contrasted his emotionless expressions thus far tonight so greatly that Harry was almost alarmed. "And why is that, Harry?" he teased.

                  "Okay, okay." Louis swatted Zayn away and abruptly stood. "Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

                  Though it was clear the others thought they'd just be hanging out for a while longer before they had to work on anything, no one complained about Louis' request to get started. They situated themselves around the card table near Liam's patio. His keyboard was beside it, where Louis sat himself, and Niall began to tune his guitar. Zayn sat on the other side of Louis' keyboard bench, though he faced the opposite way, toward the rest of the boys. He had the lyrics on a worn sheet of notebook paper and was looking through them while Liam retrieved his own guitar from some other room.

                  Harry climbed onto his knees on the sofa to watch over the back of it, leaning into the cushion and pressing a fist over his mouth to keep from grinning like an idiot. He couldn't believe this was about to happen. Louis was playing a little tune from somewhere in the song already, warming himself up, and Harry already felt like it was the most beautiful thing he's ever heard. And it was going to get even better somehow.

                  When Liam returned, they reminded each other about the part at the end that had been changed recently, and once everyone was ready, Niall counted off.

                  "One, two – "

                  On three, they began. It was slower than Harry expected it'd be, but he already wanted to close his eyes and lose himself in the sound. The only thing that kept him from it was obviously his desire to watch Louis. And after the piano-heavy intro, it finally happened.

                  "Your edges are fire," he started. His voice broke in all the right places and Harry was soaring. "Your curves a tidal wave. I'm oxygen and expensive parchment, and you're going to ruin me."

                  Zayn nodded along as Louis sang the verses to a complex tune that Harry didn't expect, but once the chorus came, Zayn was on backup vocals. Their voices blended together so nicely; Zayn's was huskier, one you'd expect to normally lead a song, not back it. Louis', on the other hand, was scratchier the softer he sang, but his higher pitch complimented the song so much that there's no way anyone else could have sung this song even if Harry hadn't demanded it be Louis. They just...the song and his voice just fit.

                  And it was everything Harry could have ever hoped for and more. The tip of Lou's fringe began to fall into his eyes and tangle with his eyelashes, but he kept on playing and he kept on singing. Occasionally he'd close his eyes and let himself really get into it, and Harry was positive they must be connected in a way that allowed them to feel whatever the other was feeling, because whenever that happened, Harry honestly felt like his soul was going to implode. He felt like nothing else in the world mattered but this moment and this song and this boy, and God, he was so fucking glad those napkins had fallen out of his pocket so long ago.

                  When it was over, Niall, Liam, and Zayn were excited. They'd finally gotten whatever had been wrong right, and they high-fived each other and congratulated each other. Louis remained frozen at the keyboard, smiling down at the keys for a second as if he was entirely alone and the others weren't waiting for him to react as well. Eventually, Zayn clapped his hands onto Lou's shoulders, which startled him awake from his daze.

                  Harry stood to join them all, but he physically couldn't move further than that. He just stood there, unable to make any of his limbs work. The only part of his body that responded to his brain was his face, and he just stood there staring at Louis with what he hoped was a smile, but he wasn't totally positive. Either way, Louis responded with his own smile that was so loaded Harry couldn't decipher a single thing in his eyes – he just hoped they were all good things.

                  "So?" Niall asked Harry, coming over and playfully fist-bumping his shoulder.

                  Harry just looked at him. He couldn't even speak, but it seemed to be enough for Niall, who laughed his loud, Irish laugh and threw an arm around Harry's shoulders in an awkward half hug.

                  "Someone get him a box of tissues," Zayn said. "He looks like he's going to cry."

                  Harry rolled his eyes finally and shook his head, feeling the weight of the grin on his face. Liam walked by him on his way back to the recliner and patted his upper arm, and then Louis was returning to him as well. There were so many things Harry wanted to do and say in that split second before they sat back down on the sofa together, and he never struggled so hard to restrain himself in his life. But he figured they had all night, and he still wasn't sure if he had any control over what would come out of his mouth or what he was willing to do with an audience.

                  Louis seemed to understand. Once their hands were together again, they didn't part for the remainder of the evening.