Part Two.

December 16th.

"Oh honey." - My mom said as she first saw me climbing down the stairs. She smiled big from ear to ear, clapping her hands in excitement. - "Oh my God, I've been waiting for you to wake up. Louis was here a bit ago and he told me you kissed!" - She squealed.

I rubbed my eyes and groaned.

"He told you?" - I mumbled, cursing under my breath. - "Why?"

"Oh darling! It's not like I don't know you two. I could tell from the moment he rang my bell that something was different." - She smirked. - "And you got home very late last night. It's not difficult to put two and two together."

"It was just a kiss." - I murmured, walking past her and going straight to the kitchen, ready to make my much needed morning coffee.

She hummed.

"Well, then I guess Louis is a liar."

"What?" - I arched an eyebrow.

"He said you spent all night together talking about everything, and that then you kissed him very passionately. And then, before you both went separate ways he kissed you again goodbye." - She smirked. - "So that makes it two kisses and a date."

"Just two kisses, then. Not a date."

"It did sound like a date." - She smirked. - "Are you seeing him again today? I think he came here to give you something this morning, but I told him you were still asleep."

"I'm not planning on seeing him, no." - I said as I started the coffee maker.

"Why not?" - She frowned.

"Because..." - I sighed. - "Louis and I are in the past, okay? Last night was... a goodbye kiss, sort of. A closure? I don't know. Anyways, it's not happening again. And again, it wasn't a date."

"Harry." - She frowned. - "You can't do that."

"Do what?" - I asked as I reached up to pick a mug form the shelves.

"Break his heart again!"

"Excuse me?" - I stopped my actions, turning to her.

"He was very excited about last night. And now you're telling me it meant nothing to you?"

"I didn't say that."

She frowned, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What did it mean to you?"

"I..." - I turned around, giving her my back as I poured the coffee in a mug. Without looking at her, I continued speaking. - "Louis was very important to me. You know that. And... of course there's still feelings involved." - I shrugged. - "But nothing else can happen with him, because I'll be gone by Tuesday next week, and he'll continue his life here."

"Harry..."

"No, mom." - I turned to her and said firmly. - "It's a no. And I don't want to keep talking about him."

"Okay." - She nodded, unconvinced.

"Thank you."

❄️❄️❄️

The doorbell rang around four in the evening when my mother was away at the bakery.
And at that moment, I hoped it wasn't Louis on the other side of that door. I could have handled anyone else, but definitely not him.

Hope is the last thing ever lost, right?

Though, I had a feeling the only person in this town that actually wanted to see and talk to me was exactly the person I wanted to avoid at all costs.

And yes, as I opened the door, there was Louis, all bundled up in warm snow clothes and holding a pile of books.

Four of them to be exact.
Four damn books I recognized right away.
The freaking Twilight saga. My favorite book as a teenager.

And a very important detail, they were the reason we ever first kissed.

Back then I was obsessed with Twilight. And Louis' family happened to own the only bookstore in town.
I remember vividly the time I finished reading Eclipse. All I could think about was running to the store and getting the fourth one. It was like an addiction, and I was abstinent. Craving, needing, restless.

Anyone who is a fan of novels, and an avid reader will understand the feeling. It was like my life had stopped and it couldn't continue until I had the last book in my hands.
Or well, at least that's how it felt during my dramatic fourteens.

In summary, I needed to get Breaking Dawn right away. So of course, I ended up at Louis' store.
That day, Louis was there, only sixteen years old.
He helped me find the book around the store, and when I was about to pay, he told me no. He gifted it to me instead.

And since it was not only my favorite saga at the moment, and the only book I was dreading to read, but also it was being gifted to me by the boy I had this huge crush on at school, who by the way was older and way cooler than I had ever been, I couldn't help myself and I hugged him.
I hugged him and I thanked him. In response, he only smiled back and said, 'happy to make you happy'.

So, we started talking about book recommendations, about school, about us. Everything, for hours.

Then, when he told me he hadn't read Twilight ever before, we started reading the first one right then and there at the store, by the window, side to side.
And it soon became a routine.

I would go to his store, and when no customers were around and his mom was kind enough to allow us, we would read. Page after page, together.
Louis was soon caught on the story, and one book turned into two, then three, then four. Until one day, Louis kissed me, and the rest was history.

To this day I still think we would have happened even without Twilight, because let's admit it, it was inevitable. We were drawn to each other from the start.

But still, Twilight was the trigger.

And that's why seeing him right there, in my frame door, holding those books with a hopeful smile on his face, was such a heavy image to digest.

"Can we talk?" - He asked, shaking from the cold but his smile never falling from his lips.

I knew what those books meant. He knew it too.
And I was not going to let it get to me.
I was not going to let the past in. I had already slipped the night before; I was not going to again.

"No." - I said, almost shutting the door in his face, but he stopped it with his foot.

"Hey. That's rude." - He laughed. - "Please." - He pouted, extending the pile of books to me. - "These are for you."

I rolled my eyes.

"Why?"

"Mostly because I hadn't sold a copy for ten years." - He smirked. - "Needed to get rid of them, you see."

"Sure." - I snorted, trying to force the door closed again, but Louis kept his foot in place.

"And because... well, they used to be your favorites."

I reached out and grabbed the four books.

"Thanks." - I half smiled, holding the pile close to my chest. - "But... Uhm, I don't want to talk. You can't come in." - I lied. - "I'm very busy."

"Oh, for sure." - He nodded, amused. - "Can I come in and have a cuppa at least? I won't bother you."

I sighed.

"Louis."

"Just a cup of tea and I'll be out of your hair."

"I mean, if I say no, you'll probably tell my mom and she'll hang me."

"Probably." - He smirked.

I stepped aside and let him in.

"What's with your close friendship with her anyways? It's kind of..." - I stopped, trying to find the right word. - "Unsettling."

"Your mom is great." - He shrugged, stepping out of his snow boots and getting rid of his jacket, mittens and scarf.

After he hung everything by the door, he made his way to the kitchen and started the stove.

"Yes, but... Why help her? Her of all people? Why come here every morning and tell her... stuff?"

He turned to me and crossed his arms on his chest, looking slightly offended.

"I come to help her not because she needs help, I know she's very capable of looking after herself. Even though I'm happy to do some of the heavy chores for her. But mostly, because I know she needs company. She's alone, Harry." - He shook his head. - "She misses you and your sister, she misses having people around to spoil with her food, to watch silly shows with, to talk to. But don't tell her I told you that." - He chuckled. - "Then she'll hang me."

I nodded.

"So now is she like... your bestie?" - I laughed.

"If you want to put it like that." - He shrugged. - "So... weren't you busy?"

"Oh. Yeah. I am." - I nodded, still holding the books in my arms. - "And you clearly feel at home here, so. You'll be fine."

I turned around and headed upstairs to my room, dumping the books in the bed and shutting the door closed.
I took a deep breath and shook my head. I needed to shake Louis out of my mind. I needed to delete last night's kiss from my hard drive.

But the multiple Harrys and Louises in the picture frames didn't seem to agree. They were judging me. Socket was judging me. The Twilight saga was judging me.

I had kissed him, yes. And I shouldn't have. That's why I needed it gone. I needed to forget about it.

Because, it's not like it meant nothing. That's the thing. It meant something.
It meant more than I could have wanted it to. Even while being slightly drunk.

It felt great. Like flying.
Like coming back to the place where one was their happiest version.

So I did what I do best, ignore it.
I crawled under my blankets, tossed the books and Socket on the floor and turned off the lights. I was not going to let the memories of the past ruin what I had built outside of this town bubble.
I was not.

But, not even twenty minutes had gone by when I heard a soft knock on my door.
I looked at the ceiling and sighed.

"Hey, Harry?" - Louis' voice came through the other side and I cursed under my breath. - "I just wanted to let you know I'm leaving now. Do you need anything?"

"No." - I sighed, standing up and going to open the door. - "But thank you. Do you need me to walk you out or anything?"

"Uhm no." - Louis looked suspiciously around my still dark room and the state of my messy bed. - "Did I wake you?"

"Not really. Wasn't sleeping." - I mumbled.

"Oh, okay." - He smiled softly. - "Are you okay?"

"Peachy."

Louis raised an eyebrow.

"Are you... Uhm, mad at me or something?"

"Louis, I said I didn't want to talk. Remember?"

"I know. But... you're..." - He gestured at me and my room with his hand. - "You seem off today."

"What?" - I laughed. - "Compared to yesterday? Yesterday when I was drunk and feeling somewhat free to say and do stuff I most likely wouldn't while thinking rationally?"

"You... Look Harry, you don't need to snap at me. I told you I understand you, okay? I understand you don't belong here anymore. But you were the one that showed up at the store and suggested drinking. I don't want to make assumptions, that's why I'm asking. So... what was it for?"

"What was what for?"

"The kiss. Harry, why? Why would you start something you know won't finish?"

"That kiss was our finish."

"No, it fucking wasn't." - He chuckled, almost laughing at me.

"Then what was it? Huh?"

"That's what I'm still trying to figure out, H." - He shook his head, resigned. - "But clearly you won't help with that, will you?"

"If by help you mean talk, then no. I have nothing to talk about." - I shrugged.

He nodded, smirking.

"Fine." - He shrugged.

"Fine." - I shrugged back.

"If you don't want to finish this with a conversation, like adults would, then you need to figure out a different way. Because that kiss didn't taste like a finish. And you freaking know it."

I sighed, taking two steps forward and standing inches from him.

"That didn't taste like a finish?" - I raised an eyebrow.

"It didn't." - He shook his head, playful smile on his lips. - "Because I know the way you kiss, Harry."

"You don't know me now. I've changed. It's been five years."

He chuckled.

"I wouldn't be so sure."

"What do you want, Louis?"

"To talk like normal people."

"Yet it seems to me that you're not here to talk, you're trying for me to kiss you again."

"Nah." - He laughed. - "You wouldn't. Because for you." - He poked my chest. - "Last night was a finish, wasn't it?"

"It was."

"Then you wouldn't dare to kiss me again." - He said, taking a step closer to me, leaving our bodies almost touching and his eyes looking up and staring right into mine. A big smirk plastered on his face. - "This changed version of you wouldn't risk it."

"Louis."

"I dare you to kiss me. Right now." - He whispered. - "If it tastes like the end, then I'll know you're for real. And that I was wrong, and that'll be the end of it."

"Dare accepted." - I whispered back, gripping onto his hips and closing the distance for good, pressing my lips on his'.

And I tried for the kiss to be slow, and I tried for it to be subtle and uncaring, to be passionless and shallow. I tried to prove to him that I felt nothing, that nothing was unresolved. But something within me was making it very impossible, some demon had possessed me and I suddenly couldn't get enough of Louis. I was holding onto him, clutching on his shirt, squeezing his hips, fingers tangled in his hair just wanting more.

Louis caught the rhythm, tugging on my hair, sliding his hands around my back, resting them on my asscheeks, pressing me close.
It was not subtle, and it was not passionless. It was the exact opposite.

It was desperate and hungry.

I gave in, my hands roaming on Louis' heated skin, sliding under his shirt and pulling it up.
Soon enough the kiss was a mix of panting, being pressed against the wall of my childhood bedroom, shirts tossed on the floor, messy lips on lips, necks and cheeks. Buttons and flies dispensed with, socks kicked out of the way, jeans shoved down our thighs and stomped to the ground.

Louis reached to close the door and walked me backwards until my calves hit the bed; And I just went with the motion, too compelled by him, too engrossed in that feeling I hadn't had in five years. I felt desperate, young, alive.
The demon inside of me was begging for everything that Louis had to give.

I sat on the edge of my bed as Louis straddled me, using his weight to force me onto my back, hands pressed into the mattress either side of my head.

I reached up, sliding my hand around to the back of Louis' neck and pulling him down into an open-mouthed kiss. If Louis wanted to consume me, to breathe me in and taste every part of me, I would let him, always.
Louis was my guilty pleasure, and he would always be.

So no, I could not stop this.

The rational part of my brain had turned off ages ago, and I was completely fine with it. Because nothing could ever top this.

Panting, I broke free from the delirious kiss and Louis' face buried in my neck, nipping on the skin and making me moan in pleasure.
I wanted more, so much more. His lips in my neck were not enough, his hands holding me weren't enough, his tongue tracing my tattoos wasn't enough, his fingers slipping under my underwear weren't enough.

I wanted to feel him everywhere, I wanted him to take me until I was spent and laid out on a plain of euphoria.

I slid my hands down, gripping Louis' asscheeks over his briefs and spreading his cheeks.

"Off." - I mumbled, completely lost in the multiple stimuli.

Louis chuckled.

"I know you so damn well." - He said, leaning back down and taking one of my nipples between his teeth.

With one hand he started pulling his briefs down, his erection quickly breaking free and crashing against my thigh.
Louis hummed as his shaft rubbed against my thigh, his lips still trailing kisses and nips on my chest, his tongue circling my sensitive nubs in a way only Louis could.

He kept going up, licking my collarbones and sucking marks on my neck. I shuddered at the feeling, my hand gripping tightly onto Louis' neck as he assaulted my jaw, leaving prominent kisses down and sucking on the flesh.

I was entranced.

I groaned loudly, feeling Louis' hands touching my body all over, burning my skin up. I hated how quickly I had reacted to his touch, to his kiss, to his lips.
This was not how I thought it would end, but damn it was worth it.

My cock kept twitching inside my briefs as Louis started giving it some sort of attention by grinding down on me.

"Shit." - I cursed the moment Louis slipped his hand inside his briefs, taking my cock in his hand and giving a tug. - "Oh." - I grunted, writhing on the sheets as Louis continued to tug and tease my cock, smirking down at me and waiting for every reaction. - "I hate you." - I breathed out.

Louis just laughed, shaking his head.

"I didn't hear you stopping me." - He whispered into my ear as he buried his face again on my neck, licking every inch of my naked skin.

My mind was clouded with desire and wanting.
Louis' cock pressed and rubbing against me, his tongue tasting me up, his hand bobbing up and down my shaft in slow motions.
It was driving me insane.

"Stop teasing, please." - I whined.

"Mhmm..." - He mumbled, stopping his actions and pulling himself up.

He smirked, looking down at me without touching. I tried reaching up to grab him and pull him back down, to pull him close to me, but he shook his head.

"Louis." - I whined.

"You should see how beautiful you look." - He sighed. - "Fuck, I've missed you."

And with that he ducked down again, capturing my lips in his' and pulling my briefs down with one hand.

Now, with both of us being naked, feeling him entirely from head to toes, all pressed against me, skin to skin, knowing that in this moment he was mine and no one else's, and that all that passion and lust was only for me; was more and better than I remembered.

And it got me moaning his name uncontrollably, begging for more than just his hands until he finally gave in.

Louis always knew how to touch me, how to pleasure me. And I trusted him completely.
So, when he started sucking my cock, I let myself go.

He drew me into his mouth, using his hand to stroke what he couldn't fit. Louis sucked hard and I was panting, eyes screwed shut, and abs tensed.
Louis used his other hand to press into my hips, he closed his eyes, taking in as much of me as he could, rolling his tongue as he dragged up and down.
Built up from all the teasing, I knew I wasn't going to last much longer.

And Louis knew.
He fucking knew my body better than myself.

So, he pulled back with a pop. A string of spit still connected Louis' lips to Harry's cock as he stroked Harry fast and tight.

"Close, darling?" - He smirked.

"Fuck you."

"Not tonight." - He said and I left out a tiny snort.

Heat built up in my lower stomach as I dug my heels into the bed, thighs shaking, and with a few more thrusts into Louis' hand, I came all over myself.
Louis tugged and licked me through the waves of pleasure that radiated off my body.
Until I started feeling too much, was too oversensitive, and mewled out softly, pushing his hand away with a smile.

"Thanks." - I sighed.

Louis chuckled, hovering over me and stealing a kiss from my lips.

"You're very welcome."

It had been a really long time since I last had an orgasm that strong, and the fact that it was in hands on the one and only love of my life was not making it any easier for me.

Because, when I left this town, I always hoped to find something better out there.
And partially, I did.

Except that no man I had been with in the past five years had made me feel as good as Louis had with just a blowjob.
Or made me feel as worthy and proud when Louis fucked my throat moments later.

With Louis it all just was different. Different in the best way.
And again, I had slipped.

I had let him get under my skin; I had let him take control.
And now I was in deep shit.

December 17th.

After Louis went home, I decided locking myself up was the only option.
Because the easiest way to face your problems is by not facing them at all.

I didn't even get out to say hello to my mom when she returned from the bakery around seven pm, or this morning when she told me there was breakfast ready.
I didn't leave the room out at lunch time even if I was starving, and I was not planning on it until I heard my mom was gone.

But of course, I had completely forgotten that today my mom wasn't going to the bakery at all, instead I started hearing different voices coming from downstairs and I remembered the party committee was meeting today again to start with the decorations. Mom had said something about making paper snowflakes to hang from the ceiling and stupid Christmas trees out of green pipe cleaners.

My stomach grumbled but I refused to acknowledge it.
I had made my decision and even if my mom came up multiple times to knock on my door, I was not coming out.
I wasn't leaving this room. Ever again.

Except well, I didn't count on having a very annoying irish guy knocking incessantly on my door.

"Haaaarry." - He sing-sang. - "Your mother begged me to bring you food, so open the door, you fucking twat." - He said, knocking hard.

"No." - I mumbled, turning around in bed and pressing a pillow in my head, muffling the sounds coming from the other side of that door.

"Haaaaarry." - He insisted. - "You can't just suck some dick and then be ashamed of it. I thought you were a proud gay, not a coward."

"What?" - I sat up quickly, staring at the door in shock. - "What the fuck did you just say?"

"Everyone in this town knows, mate." - Niall laughed, knocking hard again. - "You sucked Louis' dick yesterday, he sucked yours. Not a big deal. Actually, it is a pretty big deal if you think about it, because you're an immense asshole, and he is not. He isn't supposed to suck you when you're the biggest butthead in this world. So yeah, you're actually smart for staying inside your room all day, I would have punched you right in the face if I had seen you this morning." - He snorted. - "I'm not going to let you play with the heart of my bestie again, Styles. Or with any of us for that matter." - He kicked the door. - "Now get the fuck out of that room, I don't wanna be cross with Anne."

"And let you punch me? No, thanks. I'm okay." - I said and I heard him laugh.

"I'll give you a five minute truce so you can have your food."

I sighed.

"My mom's food?"

"Yes, she made fajitas."

I grunted, standing up from bed and moving slowly towards the door.

Opening the door just a few inches, I extended my arm through it to grab the food.

"Fucking child." - Niall muttered, placing the plate in my palm and hooked a tote bag around my wrist as I retrieved my arm and closed the door in his face again.

"Thank my mother for me."

"You know you could do it yourself." - I heard him huff. - "I can't honestly think why I had ever been friends with you. You are an arsehole, Harry Styles!" - He shouted. - "Can't wait for you to go back to California. You don't belong here."

I gulped, staring at the closed door and deciding it was best to let him have the last word. I heard him walk away after a while and I sighed in relief.

I hated confrontation, but even more, I hated that he was right.
I didn't belong here. But still, coming back for the holidays was supposed to make me feel happy, right? Welcomed. I was supposed to feel joy and celebrate with my loved ones.

I had made the stupid and rushed decision to come back, and I knew there were things that weren't going to be the same as when I left, but these people, this town, they never changed. They were the same people that watched me grow, what changed is that I left them behind and let them down, and now they had every reason to hate me.

Looking down to my hands, I had a plate of warm fajitas and a blue tote bag still hooked around my wrist.
I frowned.

The front of the bag had the Tomlinson's bookstore logo printed in white, and it certainly didn't contain food. Or books. It was too lightweight for a book.

Setting the plate of fajitas aside, I opened the tote bag first out of curiosity.

Inside, there was the most ridiculous thing.
Five tiny figures.
More precisely, five tiny gnomes with Santa hats.

They were the size of my thumb and as I inspected them from close, I could see the little differences between them. Slightly different face expressions, different color of clothing, holding different items in their hands.

And there, stuck to one of their bases, there was a note.

'You used to love setting up your Christmas village. Thought of you when I bought these little ones four years ago. Hadn't used them since.'

And I could have recognized that handwriting even drunk.
It was from Louis.
Another gift.

I rolled my eyes.

It didn't make any sense. Why would he keep doing things for me? Why would he think of me this way?
He knows. He knows I'm not staying here. What is he even trying to accomplish?

I groaned, tossing the five gnomes and the note on the floor next to the four Twilight books that were discarded yesterday.

Wait.
Wait a fucking minute.

Five gnomes today.
Four books yesterday.
Three wine bottles.
Two cookies.
And... One coffee?

Is it... Could he be...?

"Oh, fuck me." - I groaned, looking up at the ceiling.

Because if Louis is doing what I think he's doing, this would never end well.

December 18th.

Three loud knocks on my bedroom door around noon is what startled me awake.

"Harry! I need to go to the bakery! I know you're on vacation, but you can't stay in your room forever!" - My mom shouted. - "Please open the door so at least I know you're alive!"

"I am alive. Have fun at the bakery. Bye." - I said, suppressing a yawn.

"No. Open the door, mister. If you're back to living under my roof, you'll do as I say."

"Mom, I'm alright. See you later."

"Nope. No, I'm not leaving." - She knocked on the door again. - "Open this damn door, Harry."

I sighed, stumbling onto my feet and opening the door slightly.

"Good morning." - I said, leaving the door open and strolling back to bed, crawling under the covers and facing the wall.

"What the heck is wrong with you?" - She stepped inside the room, opening the curtains and revealing the very gray and snowy day outside. - "You can't go back to sleep! It's almost one!"

"Watch me." - I mumbled into my pillow.

"No." - She said firmly, pulling the warm covers away from my body and throwing my pillow on the floor. - "You're getting up, brushing your teeth, airing this room because it stinks, washing your sheets, and having coffee. Then, you're coming with me to the bakery. I'm not taking a no for an answer." - She said and with that she walked towards the door. - "You have half an hour, Harry Edward." - She added, walking out of the room. Then, she murmured to herself, huffing. - "I can't believe I'm raising a teen all over again."

I shook my head, trying to stand up on my feet and remember what she had said.

Get up, brush teeth, air the room, sheets, coffee.

"Yeah." - I yawned, stretching my back. - "Coffee sounds nice. Imma start with that."

❄️❄️❄️

"You need to talk to him." - My mom insisted for the hundredth time as I parked my car back on the driveway of the house later that day.

She had been insisting on the 'Louis topic' since she put me to make the pastries at the bakery.

I must admit, it was a good strategy. Caging me in a room with sweets and dough, forcing me to bake which was something I had always enjoyed, and then when I was with my hands deep in dough with no way out, forcing me to talk about Louis.

So I ended up telling her everything.

About how guilty I felt, about the gifts, about all the feelings and memories he was bringing back, but also about how I knew it could never lead anywhere because I only had a few days left in town and staying here was not in any of my future plans.

I think that she understood. But she's also taking Louis' side in this.
And again, I can't blame her, I'm the one at fault here. Though it would be nice to have someone on my side too.

So by the time we closed the bakery and returned home, she was very insisting I should speak with Louis. Just as he's been asking me to.
She kept insisting I should be honest and, in her words not mine, 'If you have to cry, then cry'.

We were right at our door, my mom fumbling with the keys when I noticed the little red box with a silver bow resting in the welcome mat.

For Harry was scribbled on top of it.
And yes, it was half a dozen chocolate bites.

December 19th.

Unfortunately, the chocolate bites were delicious, and I had devoured them right before going to bed the night before. Now, the pretty red box lied on the floor next to the -now- pile of Louis' gifts.

It was very annoying to look at, but at the same time I did not want to put them away.
And some irrational part of me was even wanting to add more gifts to it, to make the pile bigger and bigger, wondering what the next gift would be.

Damn Louis fucking Tomlinson, he knew me too well. And it might sound materialistic of me, but gifts were my love language.

I drove my mother to the bakery that morning, and as it was now usual, when we stepped out of the house, the driveway had been shoveled, as well as my car had been cleared of snow.

When I returned home, after getting coffee from Tina's and running some errands in the general store for my mother, it was to find Louis climbing down of his truck and walking to the front door of my house.
He smiled at me as soon as he saw me park. And even from the distance, I could distinguish the bright color red of the roses he was holding.

I sighed.

As I climbed off my car and made my way to the door, he extended the bucket to me. I looked down, taking them in my hands without saying a word, but silently counting them.

Yep, you guessed it.
Seven red roses.

"They are pretty." - I said, resigned.

"Yeah?" - His smile brightened. - "Does that mean I can come in?" - He asked, hopeful.

"Is this your way to get in my pants again?"

"It might be." - He shrugged. - "Or maybe I just want to spend time with my ex."

I frowned, feeling a light tug in my chest at the choice of his words.

"You've never called me that before."

He arched an eyebrow, amused.

"It's not like you've been around much to notice either." - He chuckled. - "But I won't call you that if you don't like it."

"I..." - I sighed, searching for my house keys so we weren't standing under the snow any longer. - "I know that's what we are, exes. But I guess it's weird to hear you say it just because I've never called you that in my head, or even with other people. You're just..." - I said, trying to make sense of the stupid feelings running through me. I pushed the door open and let him in. - "I just call you Louis."

I pushed the door close behind him and, after kicking my snow boots off, I moved to the kitchen to put the roses on water.

Louis followed me, his eyebrows scrunched together in thought.

"So, you don't think of me as your ex?"

"Huh?" - I was caught off guard.

"You're not used to thinking of me as your ex. So, what am I?"

"Louis. You're Louis." - I said.

"So... your new friends in California, don't they know me as 'Louis, the ex'?"

"My new frie...? Why the fuck do you care?" - I frowned, finding myself irritated at him suddenly. - "I don't talk about you, I don't think about you. I blocked you out of my mind, Louis. So no, I don't think of you as my ex because I don't think about you at all."

He stared at me in silence, his eyes burning onto mine, trying to decipher me, trying to read me like a book, trying to dig out the truth.

And after a moment, he smiled.

"Okay." - He shrugged. - "Then I guess that's my cue to go."

Louis turned around, leaving me alone in the kitchen.

I unconsciously started rearranging the roses in the vase, my eyes fixed on Louis' movements as he put his winter clothes back on.

"Louis?" - I whispered, now looking down at the roses.

"Yeah?" - He answered from the hall.

"Why do you keep bringing me gifts?"

He chuckled, quickly reappearing in the kitchen.

"For sex, of course."

"What?" - I looked up at him, shocked.

"Not many gay people in this town." - He shrugged. - "I always end up at some club downtown. But since you're here, I thought I might as well try."

I frowned.

"You're joking."

"Not really." - He shook his head. - "It worked, didn't it? But well, I guess it won't again. Since 'you don't think of me at all'. So, don't expect any gifts tomorrow."

"And you're just going to stop?"

"Yeah."

"But... you can't stop at seven. That's... that's like the worst number." - I said and Louis laughed.

"If you want more gifts then you have to give me something, H." - He smirked.

"Fine, you want meaningless sex? Let's go, I can give you that."

❄️❄️❄️

Leaning back in bed with Louis on top felt like going back in time.

I was seventeen again, waiting for the moment both our mothers left for work to sneak out together just to make out.

His hands trailing down my naked body, my fingers tangled in his hair. Sweat and heavy breathing, tongue to tongue, Louis and I just perfectly aligned and synced. Skin on skin, we both roused to passion.

His lips and hands were everywhere. One second he was intertwining our fingers to bring my hand up above my head, and in the next second he was kissing and licking his way down to my hips.

I let him manipulate me, shower me with attention and gentle touches. In fact, I was basking in the way he made me feel so wanted and special.
So desired.

Louis was absurdly good at making me moan, keeping on my toes ready to beg for more.
His mouth was dangerously close to my cock, making it twitch each time his nose pressed on the underside of it. Kissing and lapping his tongue on my thighs, making me sweat and buckle my hips, wriggling under him even if his hands were holding my body down onto the mattress.

He hummed in satisfaction when he swiftly pressed a finger inside of me and it immediately made me cry out his name.

"Still got it." - He smirked, leaning down to trail kisses in my abs. - "What do you want, darling?" - He asked then, pressing a second digit next to the first one and starting to properly finger me.

"I..." - I gasped, feeling the way Louis' fingers were moving and scissoring. - "I think I have lube and condoms somewhere."

"Oh. Okay." - He smirked.

He moved from top of me so I could rummage through my suitcase to find my bag of toiletries, pulling the lube and pack of condoms out of it.
I smirked at him and crawled back into bed, straddling his lap, pushing him down and stealing a desperate kiss from his lips.

"All yours." - I said into his mouth, pushing the packs and the lube against his chest.

He clumsily grabbed them, using one hand to tug on his cock a few times until it was dripping precome, and only then he ripped the pack open, sliding the condom on his shaft.

He kissed me again, biting on my tongue and lips, distracting me enough with it until he rolled us around and he was on top once again.

Somehow, he had managed to lube himself up and rub some lubed fingers inside me as he kissed me senseless, and soon enough his length was aligned with me, and my legs were pressed against my chest.

"So..." - He hummed, biting on my jaw. - "I thought last time was our end."

"It was." - I mumbled, feeling his hard cock lingering in between my legs but not quite enough.

"Mhmmm... Then what would you call this?"

"Just get on with it. Stop fucking talking."

"But I want to know, baby." - He whispered in my ear, kissing softly right under my earlobe and sending shivers down my neck.

"Louis." - I groaned, dropping my head back on the pillow as I let him explore and mark my neck. - "If you don't fuck me I'm..."

"You're what?" - He asked, thrusting his hips forward and making me squirm.

"I'll be very mad."

He laughed.

"I knew you hadn't changed." - He hummed. - "You're still the same greedy and spoiled baby of mine."

He captured my lips on his' once again before I could even reply. And with it, he also pushed inside of me, slowly until I felt completely full.

I gasped, breaking the kiss and shutting my eyes with force.

"You okay?" - Louis mumbled, peppering kisses all over my face.

I nodded, but didn't say anything else. My walls were clenching around Louis' cock, accommodating the size, and I felt Louis' hand brushing some curls off my forehead gently, caressing my cheek as he waited. And all that softness seemed out of place after the teasing and the sharpness of his foreplay, but that's how Louis had always been. And that mix was exactly what made it incredibly exhilarating for me.

"Let me know when you are ready for me to move." - He hummed, kissing the corner of my lips. - "You feel as good as ever."

Finally opening my eyes, I stared into Louis' dilated pupils, all dark with a thin ring of blue irises.

"You can move now."

Louis nodded, smiling softly at me before pressing another tender kiss on my lips. This soft side of him had always been the one that had me melting into his arms in a millisecond, and this time was no different, I was relaxed and at his complete mercy.
Louis started slowly, barely pulling out and more like just changing an angle. It was still enough to make me squirm in pleasure.

It wasn't long until the playful smirk returned to Louis' face, starting to thrust harder, pulling out almost entirely only to grip my hips and push back inside with intention.

Louis had proclaimed he knew me. That he still remembered my body. Well, not that I wanted to admit it, but he totally did. Because in just a few hard thrusts he found my prostate and I was seeing stars.

"There?" - He asked, smirking and stilling his hips, as if he didn't know how much I needed him to move, especially against that spot.

"Yes." - I managed to breathe out, moaning and grinding my hips, moving ever so slightly underneath Louis.

"Don't be greedy." - He whispered into my ear.

Louis gripped tightly on my hips, immobilizing me.
I felt my hole clenching around him, hard enough that I felt the muscles in my lower tummy harden.
Louis grunted, throwing his head back.

And it was the first time this evening that I had seen him so affected, losing control, giving in to the pleasure and for once, not teasing.

"I missed this. So fucking much." - He groaned, diving back into my neck and biting over my collarbone.

"Louis." - I gasped, feeling as he started thrusting, harder and faster this time.

"Yeah?"

"Keep doing that. Please, just keep..."

"That's how you want it, then?" - Louis asked, pulling out before thrusting deep, right into my prostate.

He pressed further, picking up his pace, punching my breath out of my chest with every deep and hard stroke.

Louis was driving me crazy, fucking me so good, in all the right ways.
I could only nod, moan and gasp. It felt like I had lost all types of ability, because at that moment I was just an extension of Louis, and he had absolute control over me.

I let out an inhuman mewl when Louis' fingers found my nipples. Abandoned for the whole evening, it took no time at all for Louis to make it puffy, twisting and pinching the hardened nub none too gently.

The other one was quickly claimed by Louis' wet tongue before being sucked into his mouth. The alternating gentle and harsh treatment on each side of my nipples drove me to the cusp of pleasure and my cock twitched again where it remained mostly untouched, my lower stomach tensing and just generally feeling completely breathless.

"I'm... so close." - I managed to say, clawing on Louis' back to pull him close and feel some kind of friction.

"Me too." - Louis said, grabbing my chin with one hand and pulling me into an open-mouthed kiss.

He kept thrusting into me frantically, and I kept finding him in the middle, chasing my own orgasm, taking my own cock in my hands and finding release just after a few tugs.
I clenched around Louis as I rode out of my orgasm, finally making him come too.

And what could I say, I was a weak man. So, if Louis stayed the night and we had sex two more times before actually going to sleep, then it's a problem I could handle in the morning.

Just like adults do.

December 20th.

I stirred awake and I immediately knew something was wrong.

Because for the first time in years I was not waking up alone. Instead, I had a very tattooed arm surrounding me from behind, a hard body pressed into my back, and a pair of lips sucking and kissing over my shoulder blades.

"How bold of you to spend the night." - I mumbled.

"Good morning to you too."

"I thought you'd be gone by now." - I grunted, still feeling his stupid hands now rubbing circles on my stomach and his also stupid lips kissing now over my nape.

"And miss this fun morning with you? Never."

"Go away." - I elbowed him in the ribs. - "You're very annoying."

He laughed.

"You weren't saying that last night." - And I swear I heard his smirk even if I couldn't see him.

"You're too full of yourself."

"You were full of myself."

I groaned, burying my face on the pillow and pushing his hands away from me.

"Please leave."

He laughed again, his fingers trailing down my back and pinching one of my asscheeks.

"Okay, I'll leave." - He said easily, and I felt his weight leave the bed. And suddenly, without his body warmth right next to me, I felt cold.

"Will I see you later?" - I asked, lifting my head from the pillow just a bit.

"Of course." - He smirked. - "I need to give you my eighth gift, don't I?"

I rolled my eyes.

"You just want to come back for more sex."

"That was the plan all along, wasn't it?" - He shrugged, picking up his clothes from the floor and starting to dress up.

I snorted, dropping my head back on the pillow but this time looking at Louis as he moved around the room.

My head was spinning.
Hundreds of questions coming to mind, memories of the night before, memories of our teenage selves, memories of the millions of kisses and nights we shared in the past. The feelings.
The trust, the love, the happiness.

And now... he was there, saying this was just for the sex?

"Louis." - I said and he turned to me with a hum. - "Are these gifts really because you want to have sex?"

He dropped his eyes, his expression turning soft, and in there I saw a light glimpse of the love of my life again, the Louis that would hold me tenderly, cuddle me while we read, kiss me softly, smile every time I called him mine.
The soft version of Louis that often reappeared during sex just to make sure I was being loved the right way.

His eyes returned to mine, looking vulnerable, looking like himself. Dropping the act.

"No, Harry." - He shook his head, half smiling. - "But you don't want to hear the truth."

And with that he was out of the room, leaving me in a mess of sheets, clothes spread on the floor, and still a pile of discarded gifts adorning the corner of the room.

❄️❄️❄️

Later that day my mom returned from the bakery with a stern look on her face.

"What's wrong?" - I asked her.

"Louis came by the bakery." - She said, dropping a different tote bag in front of me. - "Told me to give you these. He didn't want to come do it in person. Why is that?"

"Nothing."

"That boy had found the weirdest excuses to come see you every day for years, yet now he is refusing to come bring you this bag. What happened?"

"He spent the night here last night." - I sighed.

"You fucked?"

"Mom!" - I screamed but she only raised an eyebrow, expecting a real answer. - "Yes, jeez. We did."

"I knew it." - She shook her head. - "That boy has way too much love for you, and you don't even realize it."

I grabbed the tote bag in my hands and slightly opened it. A tiny smile formed in my lips at the ridiculousness.

Eight pairs of Christmas socks.
Each of them with different patterns: Candy canes, Christmas trees, bells, elves, mistletoes, etc.

The point was that Louis had always been sweet and kind and honest, effortlessly funny and cheeky as fuck when he was in the mood.
I had a million and one reasons to love him.

And yes, my mom was right, Louis had way too much love for me, and I could still feel it each time he smiled or locked eyes with me. Heck, I even felt it last night.

But it was always mutual. I felt the same. I felt the same love, the same connection and the same yearning for years. I felt the hurt when we broke apart, I felt the pain and the heartbreak.
And I did not want to go through that again.

It had been enough to go through it once. And if this kept escalating, we would be going strength into an imminent heartache.
Both of us. All over again.

I couldn't let him convince me.
I was not going to stay; it was never in my plans to cross paths with Louis again.

Last night, it was wonderful, but it was not going to be repeated.
It was just a fling, just a night, just one last goodbye.

Just a moment so we could feel whole again.

But our future was not together.
Louis and I were never an option.

I could not let him love me any longer.
Or allow myself to love him back.