C H A P T E R    T H I R T Y S I X . O N E

Morals and Maybes

❄●❄

THE LAST TIME Louis glanced in Harry's direction, the elf – half-elf – wore a dusting of flour in one eyebrow and an easy smile. This time, there was an additional brush of white powder along one side of his jaw. Still an easy smile. Louis mirrored it when their gazes met.

Harry had said they couldn't show up in Claus Village without bearing gifts, so they'd made a pit stop first. Santa's favorite cookies were gingerbread, and his daughter's were peanut butter. Harry's specialty was peppermint sugar, but apparently he can make a mean peanut butter cookie. According to him, anyway. And gingerbread were pretty straightforward.

Louis was currently tasked with shaping the gingerbread cookies. And thankfully, shockingly, he was enjoying himself. He was happy, which was...far more than Louis had ever expected after everything.

"So," Louis breathed after a lapse in conversation. They'd been talking about the elflings again since they were back in the kitchens, and Harry had been happy to divulge more tales from before he came to London. The silence that followed had been comfortable. "We've got gingerbread for the big guy, peanut butter for his daughter. What about Mrs. Claus? Don't tell me she doesn't have a favorite cookie," Louis continued.

"She actually passed a few years back. Probably don't mention it when we're there."

Switching cookie cutters, Louis tilted his head. "What is an elf's lifespan?" And then, as an afterthought, he peeked over at Harry and added, "And a half-elf's?"

Harry chuckled, surprising both Louis and apparently himself, and he stopped mixing his peanut butter cookie mix. "The same, Lou. We're all basically human, we just handle cold weather better. And regular elves are shorter. And the ears."

Louis snorted and lifted his hands, holding them like a surrender. "Laugh all you want. It's not like they teach elf biology or history in our studies back home."

He wasn't offended. He liked that he and Harry were joking around again, that this was all light-hearted like it used to be. But it really was like learning something brand new, something he never even considered before. He wouldn't learn anything without asking about it. He couldn't believe he was asking about it, but...he wanted to know. He wanted to understand who Harry was and where he came from and everything he could possibly know, even if Christmas will be constantly dancing around the edges – sometimes right in focus – of what he might learn.

"You're right," Harry nodded, completely sobered up. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have laughed at you."

Surprised, Louis set his cookie cutters down and wiped his hands off on the apron Harry had tied around him earlier. He reached for the poet and wound his arms around him. This close, Harry only looked a little troubled. Louis hoped he could see that he didn't mind, hadn't taken offense. He could also still see the flour, so with a smirk, he reached up and brushed it away from both Harry's eyebrow and his jaw.

He let his fingers linger there, trailing down Harry's jawline and then toward the back of his neck, cupping his head. Harry tilted his face into it, and God, Louis wanted to see him this way for the rest of his life. He really did. He really fucking loved him.

Something in Harry's expression looked familiar suddenly. It was the same look from this morning, the last time they were in the kitchens. Louis had even asked about it then, but they were about to be interrupted by the elflings, so Harry said he'd tell him later.

Well, it was later. "What aren't you saying?"

Harry didn't say anything at first. He was hesitating for some reason or another, and Louis wished he could be better at reading him. The lad had become excellent at concealing his feelings if he really didn't want anyone to know them.

"I don't want to scare you," he finally said.

Louis couldn't help it. He snorted. "H, in the last two days, you've told me that you're a Christmas elf living in the North Pole who took the goddamned Polar Express to London, and we're currently baking cookies for Santa Claus. If I'm still sitting here and not halfway across the Arctic Ocean – on foot – I don't think anything you say to me right now could scare me. I'm fucking fearless."

Halfway through this little speech, however, Louis' pulse began racing. He truly believed after their argument last night and their talk earlier today that nothing else could go badly between them. But he's been wrong before, and despite himself, he was worried. He cared too much not to be.

What if whatever Harry was afraid to say would hurt him? What if there was somehow more that he hasn't told Louis yet? The possibilities were endless and that was nerve-wrenching.

But Harry seemed in awe of Louis' words. He reached for Louis' face, and Louis knew what he was going to do, so he let his own hand fall to Harry's chest. Harry cupped Louis' face, easing his worries almost immediately, and gently brushed his thumbs over Louis' cheekbones. The action seemed so tender paired with the look in his eyes, even if Louis couldn't read it.

And just when it looked like Harry would speak, he pressed his lips together and dropped his hands, and Louis thought he was going to step away. So, like an actual idiot, Louis latched onto the chest of Harry's sweater and begged, "No more secrets."

Harry's eye roll wasn't directed at Louis – no, it was meant for himself, Louis could see, but it still seemed like an odd response. Then he mumbled, "It's not much of a secret, more just...." He sighed. "I haven't done this before."

And he's...oh. He's nervous.

It was a different nervous from what Louis had just been. Not worried, just...shy. And inexperienced. Louis understood what this was.

On his tiptoes, he kissed Harry. It was slow, soft. He didn't want it to be something they'd get carried away with, didn't want it to be something that would distract either of them. It was meant to be comforting. He brought a hand back to the nape of Harry's neck and massaged it a little. When they pulled apart, Harry's breath was shaky, and Louis was far more endeared than he thought he'd be at the sight of his boyfriend lacking so much of the confidence he usually exhibits.

They'd only pulled apart a hair – their faces were still close enough for Louis' lips to brush against Harry's when he spoke. "I've only said it to one person who wasn't family or Zayn. It was terrifying. What if the feeling wasn't reciprocated? I was afraid to ruin the relationship we were building."

Then, Louis pulled back farther, settling back onto the balls of his feet. "The good news is that you don't need to fear that here."

Harry's eyes were flickering between Louis' and his lips, frantically like they couldn't focus no matter how badly he wanted them to. On top of being endeared out of his mind, Louis was amused, and he couldn't help grinning like a fool at this breathless boy in front of him.

And then Harry said, "I love you. A lot."

Louis wanted to throw his head back and laugh. Before he could, Harry continued.

"I love you more than I love peppermint hot chocolate." Louis did laugh this time. "I mean it. More than I love peppermint in general, for that matter. I love you more than I love lightning, more than...than I love writing poems. I love you more than I love Christmas, Louis Tomlinson."

Truly, Louis was reeling. He had only discovered his own feelings a day ago, and they'd nearly sent him running for the hills. He hadn't planned to feel this way so fast, didn't mean to let Harry in as much as he did. But...here they were. And Harry felt the same way.

"And I love you, Harry," Louis breathed, "more than I hate Christmas."

Harry simply responded with, "Fuck," and kissed Louis a lot harder than they'd been kissing a moment ago. Cookies forgotten, bloody Santa Claus forgotten, Harry had him pressed back against the counter and trapped there while they made out like teenagers. Louis could hardly breathe, but he'd be damned if he cut this short. He's been wanting to do this the entire last two days, seeing Harry in his element and being exactly who he is...when they weren't arguing, of course.

They grew winded faster than Louis would have liked. Harry's hands had been everywhere, and Louis knew he would be flush. They've made out before, but not like this. And he...wanted to do it again, as soon as possible.

As they caught their breath, still mostly entangled with each other, Harry asked, "Do you really still hate Christmas?"

Truthfully? Louis didn't know. He would have to re-examine his feelings there. So he shrugged. "Eh. To be determined."

Harry smiled. "We should finish the cookies and get going before we never leave these kitchens."

Gently but playfully, Louis pushed Harry off him and turned back to his gingerbread dough. "I see no problem with that scenario."

Harry's answering giggle sent a flash of heat from Louis' toes to his stomach.

❄●❄

NOT EVEN THE frigid North Pole temperatures could bring Louis down from this high he found himself on. It was incredible, really. He wasn't sure the last time he felt like this.

Still, it was bloody cold. He huddled closer to Harry, wondering how much closer he could get before walking beside each other became difficult. If only he radiated as much heat as his half-elf boyfriend did...

"Louis?"

"Hm? I'm listening."

He could practically hear Lottie's eye roll. "I asked if you've spoken with Harry about winter break plans yet."

"Oh." Louis stalled for a moment, swapping his phone from one gloved hand to the other. Despite the gloves, he could only withstand so much exposure before he needed to tuck them away into his pockets. As much as he was glad to be having this conversation with his sister, he would have to cut it short soon. "No, I haven't yet. I'll do that tonight and get back to you."

There was a part of Louis that knew he would have bristled at this direction of conversation any other day. And maybe he still would have today, even knowing what he knows now, but he liked to think he was making progress. That there was a possibility he could grow as a person. That someday, far down the line, he might not hate this holiday so much.

Truthfully, he wasn't sure he hated it even now. It's hard to hate something he hardly understood. Now, it just feels unfamiliar, a completely new start. He'd have to relearn it before he could decide whether he still hated it.

Lottie sighed. "Fine. Oh, Fiz is spending a few nights with me. Hope you don't mind."

Beside Louis, Harry was having a cell phone conversation of his own. Louis hadn't been able to catch much of what was being said, but he thought it was about that hotel Christmas party he's been planning with his coworkers.

"Don't let her rifle through my things," Louis said, but there was no punch behind it.

"As if she'd willingly set foot in your room for anything other than your sweatshirts."

"She would and she has. Are you paying attention to Dashing and Charming?"

"Of course."

"So they're being fed and cared for?"

"Louis. You haven't even asked how I've been yet."

A corner of his lips twitched upward. "I mean, I assume you're alright or would you have led with something other than 'Louis! How's Harry?'"

"Considering how abruptly you left, it was a fair greeting. Anyway, I'm fine, if you care. Zayn and Liam have even been by to check on me."

Louis would never say any of this out loud, to his sister or to his friends (maybe to Harry), but he fucking loved his friends for things like this. He hadn't even asked them to do that, they'd just...done it. On their own. Because they're genuinely decent people.

"Couple of saints, they are," he teased, but he meant it.

They chatted for a short while longer. Harry had already ended his own conversation, and he waited patiently for Louis to finish his.

Though they were walking now, they had originally taken a carriage from the kitchens to the edge of the second sector. Apparently, all the sectors surrounded Claus Village – the fifth sector – like it was the center of a wheel with four spokes. Harry had explained the layout of the North Pole while the cookies were in the oven. He'd also explained that they'd have to go into the village on foot, which would have ordinarily sent Louis into dreading mode.

But the walk wasn't terrible, even though he was freezing. When he finally tucked his phone back into his pocket and then his own hands, he could have breathed a sigh of relief. Sure, his face was numb, but at least he didn't have to worry about any of his fingers falling off.

"So," Louis huffed, watching his breath cloud in front of him. "How's the party planning?"

Harry's own hands were carrying two tins of cookies. While he was on the phone, he'd been balancing them in one hand, and he'd been doing it with ease. Louis noticed he wasn't wearing gloves at all. What must it be like for the biting breeze not to affect him whatsoever?

"Fine, I think. Ella and Olivia got the rest of the shopping done – well, except for food and stuff, because there's still time for that. And everyone is still showing up for caroling practices, so. I think it'll all be fine. How's Lottie?"

Even though Louis was feeling less venom toward the holidays, he was sort of grateful Harry hadn't made him come up with some supportive response to that. He wanted to be supportive. He'd just have to sort out how to do that later. Because maybe... Maybe if he could be properly supportive, Harry would invite him to this party.

He didn't even know if he'd go, was the thing. It sounded like everything he'd hate. It sounded like ten minutes in, he'd run off to god knows where in an effort to purge those ten minutes from his memory. And yet, a part of him was bothered he wasn't being given the option to say no. Or yes.

"She's good. Fiz is coming to spend a few nights, I guess."

"That's fun. Hopefully she'll be there when we get back."

Louis probably could have responded to that, but he was sort of rendered speechless by Claus Village.

It was unlike anything he'd seen in the North Pole so far. It was what he'd always imagined this place would look like, the way all the movies and stories said it would. Holy shit.

Beside him, Harry muttered something about it looking like a ghost town, but Louis couldn't figure out why. It was teeming with life in ways the rest of the North Pole wasn't. This was where all the magic clearly was.

The cobblestone path they had been walking on since the second sector suddenly became something of a runway. Louis wasn't sure when this had happened – he glanced over his shoulder, but it looked like it'd always been this way. Warm-toned street lamps lined either side, connected to each other in glittering swoops of garland. And the shops – he couldn't believe the small businesses littering this one street. There were several candy shops, apparel stores like the tourist traps on every corner of London, except through the front windows he could see knitted sweaters and wool scarves. He spotted a bakery and a couple pubs, even a library wedged in between two restaurants.

And giving life to all of it was the elves, who were scattered everywhere. Going into and out of the pubs and restaurants, waving each other down in front of the bakery. There was a family of three – two parents and an elfling – exiting the library, the elfling waving over her shoulder at someone inside. Groups huddled under the street lamps, out of the way of anyone looking to get from one place to the next.

Louis was in awe. He wasn't sure what he was expecting from Claus Village, but it wasn't this.

The path led to a large estate, probably the very center of this large wheel, and Louis was certain that was where they were headed. But until they got there, he was perfectly content admiring everything around him. He tried imagining how he'd have reacted to all of this the first night they were here, and though he suspected it wouldn't have been good, he hoped he would have been able to see the village for what it truly was, even then. Even with blinders on. But he obviously couldn't know for sure, and he was glad he never had to find out.

Harry softly cleared his throat and said, "I'm...sorry if this is all too much."

He must have taken Louis' silence as a bad sign, a poor reaction to everything. Perhaps Louis should have been more vocal. To be fair, this all should have been too much. Claus Village made the third floor of the hospital look like amateur hour.

So Louis bumped into Harry and shrugged. "It's actually lovely."

Harry shook his head slowly. "Wow."

With a shy laugh, Louis asked, "What?"

"If I'd known telling you I loved you was all it would take to make you love Christmas, I'd have done it ages ago."

"Ha ha." Louis looped an arm through Harry's.

But like he'd done in the kitchens earlier, Harry backpedaled, seemingly worried he'd said something wrong. "I like our journey, though. Just as it is."

Louis wrinkled his nose. "It was a little bumpy. You sure?"

"Positive."

"Guess it is pretty good. Especially since I'm involved."

Harry's response was to kiss the side of Louis' head, and even though Louis was worried he was going to lose a few limbs to frost bite after this day, he couldn't help feeling a familiar warmth spread from his fingers to his toes.