One of my faves tbh

Words: 2.4K
Hope you enjoy it!!
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Deep down, Harry felt silly. Silly that he was scared. Silly that he'd lose the love of his life over himself .

But her hands trembled, body shaking with sobs, as she yanked the flowers out of her braids.

She knocked the unlit candles over as she blindly reached out for something on the dresser table, pushing her hair out of her face. Box of tissues in hand, she shakily made her way to the bathroom.

She knew she was being harsh, but gentleness only made her heart hurt worse. She splashed ice-cold water on her face and took in a deep breath.

He looked in the mirror.

His fingers were cold and numb, grip tight on the marble of the sink as he evened his breathing. Cold water trickled down his jaw and neck, dribbling down his chest, slightly dampening the pale blue dress he wore. A quavery hand reached out to unzip it. The soft noise of the metal against metal as he pulled the zipper down felt harsh, like it wasn't just lace and chiffon slipping off his shoulders, but it was a part of him he would be tearing away and hiding. Like he was tearing her out, bundling her in his arms and shoving her away in the dark so no one could see. After all, she wasn't just in his head.

And all he wanted, was to keep her safe.

----

Harry shut his eyes when he heard the jingle of keys, trying to relax. He could hear soft footsteps, the unmistakable click of the door lock, and a bag thrown on the dining table.

He heard Louis walk into the room, heading to the bathroom. Then heard the tap running, then the shower, and about twenty minutes later, he heard the light click off. The other side of the bed dipped, and a warm hand made its way to his waist.

"G'night baby boy," Louis whispered, pressing his lips to his temple.

----

She felt warm. Like the sun had just risen, rays basking her in the warmth. Her hair parted to the side, curls kissing her shoulders.

She'd bought herself a new dress. It was pink and sheer and flowy with little daisies on it. It grazed her knees. Her nails, too, were painted a soft pink to match her dress. She tried to control her shaking hands as she did her eyeliner.

Sighing, she kept the liner on the dresser, picking the tube of lipstick up. Unscrewing the top and twisting the tube, she leaned closer to the mirror as she ran the pigment over her lips. She gasped at the feeling and the soft pink tint. Not wanting to mess it up, she continued running it over her lips, once over the bottom, once over the top before bringing them together and softly smacking them. She giggled breathily and closed the tube, putting it away before getting up and standing in front of her full-length mirror.

More breathy giggles escaped her lips as she twirled, the material of the dress tickling her knees.

But when her eyes fell on the photo frame on the wall, a picture of him and Louis from Jay's wedding. His cheeks were rosy and blown up, Louis pressing a kiss against them.

He was supposed to be a boy .

Hot wet tears stained her cheeks with streaks of black again.

----

"Truth or dare?" Niall suggested as the group groaned.
"We aren't in middle school, Niall," Louis complained.
"Never have I ever? With shots of course."
"I like that," Liam muttered as he got up from where Zayn had kicked him off the sofa and to the floor.

Zayn and Louis looked at each other, a twinkle of mischief in their eyes.

----

"Never have I ever..." Niall smirked at Louis, "fell in love with a guy!" he cackled. Louis groaned as he and Harry downed a shot each.

"That's so childish," he slurred "Homophobia!" he yelled, Niall doubling over on the floor, "You ask a gay as fuck guy," he scrunched his nose "Girls. Ew, no."

And suddenly, to Harry, everything began to fade out. The chatter of the group became white noise. His thoughts, which were already haywire because of the generous amount of alcohol he had consumed seemed to...hit a flatline.

"Hazza?" Louis shook his shoulder.

"Huh?" Harry broke out of his trance to find everyone looking at him with concerning looks.

What's wrong, love?" Louis whispered, hand moving to rest in his back, rubbing circles.

"I feel a little sick." Harry suddenly stood up. "I need to use the loo." He mumbled before rushing to their room and locking himself in the bathroom.

She let out a shuddery breath. Her hands began to tremble, chest rumbling unpleasantly as she sank to the floor. She took in a deep breath, trying to steady herself as tears streamed down her cheeks. They didn't know what seemed a silly dare to them was something she wished she could do without being laughed at. They didn't know it would mean a sliver of euphoria to her. They didn't even know her .

"Harry?" Louis' voice called as he knocked on the door. "H, are you okay?"

'No, no, no, no-'

Harry opened the door.

"L-Lou." He broke into a loud sob. Louis gasped.

"Baby, darling, what happened?" He asked as Harry flung his arms around him. "Shh, it's okay, it's okay." He whispered, rubbing his back. He carried him to the bed, Harry's grip on him getting tighter, body wracking with heavy sobs.

"Love, you need your inhaler? Harry?"

Harry sucked in a sharp breath as he nodded, fisting the bottom of Louis' shirt. One hand still around Harry's back, Louis reached out for the nightstand. He stilled for a second when he felt something odd, but chose to ignore it for then, hand moving towards his right to grab the inhaler.

"Here you go, darling, breathe for me." He murmured, holding it to his mouth and pressing the top. He rubbed his back, his hand constantly moving up and down as he tried to calm Harry down.

Harry's sobs soon subsided, and his boy fell asleep in his arms, face hidden in his neck.

Touch gentle, Louis ran his thumb over the dried tear tracks on his cheeks, which were flushed pink.

He looked so much at peace when he was asleep. More than Louis had seen him in two and a half months of dissonant sun rays bouncing off his skin. His fingers trailed to the crown of his head and over the curve of his ear as he moved a strand of hair out of his face. He had light congestion, Louis could tell, by the way he heard a light, subconscious whine every time he took a deeper breath.

He'd politely asked the boys to leave when Harry had left. Something had been troubling him for a while. For over two months, he'd been working a night shift, meaning he didn't get too much time to spend with Harry, apart from weekends.

But something seemed, off. Almost like Harry was keeping something from him.

He'd space out often, he'd spend an unhealthy time looking in a mirror and would cling to Louis, as though Louis was about to let go of him, but wouldn't mutter a word.

He'd wear the same three pairs of clothes on repeat. He'd ordered a bottle of perfume he'd never seen him wear. Louis had received multiple packages on his behalf which he never explained enthusiastically with a "Lou, oh my god, you have to see this!" before tripping over something in glee and falling into Louis' arms, like he usually did.

He still kissed him goodnight with breathy giggles, he'd still snuggle up in his arms pretending to feel cold. They would still dance in the kitchen when they could, but something, something, seemed off. He tried so hard to convince himself that it was alright, that Harry was just fine, that he was merely stressed because of his University finals.

But after the bathroom door opened to reveal Harry crying, only light in his eyes the reflection of the night lamp in their bedroom, his heart ached with concern.

----

Harry was six when he first stole a dress from Gemma's wardrobe and tried it on. He was seven when he got Anne's lipstick all over his face trying to put it on. He was eight when he pushed it all away and tried to pick a football up. He was thirteen when he swore never to touch a makeup item again.

And it wasn't until twenty-one it all came back.

He didn't want to completely become a girl, but he did want to sometimes. It made him feel content, happy, it made her feel happy.

Genderfluid, he'd read on the internet. Someone whose gender identity or expression changes constantly.

Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth as she painted her nails an alternating pattern of pink, purple and dark blue. Three lovely colours that meant so much to both; Him and her.

----

Louis knew Harry was keeping something from him. As much as his hands itched to pry open the drawer and confirm if what he'd felt the other night had been true, he knew Harry wouldn't keep anything from him unless he really had to. Unless he wasn't ready to tell him yet. They had to talk, he knew, but for the moment, he wanted Harry to initiate it.

It was the last night of his three-month night shift at the Fire Brigade he worked. He couldn't wait for it to end, because the more the days had passed, the more his worry bubbled uncontrollably in his chest.

He was supposed to leave at six, but he decides to leave at four, seeing as three extra people were working that morning.

He couldn't wait to get home.

----

The first thing Louis heard when he shut the door behind him, was the distinct sound of glass dropping to the floor and shattering.

Followed by a loud sob.

His heart dropped to his stomach.

He dropped his bag and rushed towards their room from where he could hear Harry's cries.

"Baby-"

Oh.

Harry was shaking terribly, a now broken bottle of blue nail polish on the floor. One side of his hair was done in a messy French braid, loose strands sticking out behind his ears. Little flowers were falling out from the braid.

And he was wearing a dress.

He sunk to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest.

"I-I'm s-so s-s-sorry." He sobbed. "S-so-"

"Can I come in?" Louis whispered. Harry stilled, looking at Louis with shock written all over his face. Reluctantly, he gave a small nod.

He walked into the room, sitting cross-legged in front of him and opening his arms, murmuring a small "C'mere."

Harry broke into a louder sob, covering his face with his hands as he clambered into Louis' lap, curling upon himself to be as small as possible. He clung to him like he was his lifeline, soaking his uniform with tears. Louis murmured reassurances into his ear, rubbing his hand over his back to soothe him.

"You wanna talk, angel?" He asked softly once his crying had subsided.

Harry knew he had to. She had to.

He slowly nodded but didn't move from his place in Louis' lap.

"I like wearing dresses," he mumbled, "'Nd nail polish, make-up." Louis hummed in acknowledgement, encouraging him to go on. "On some days I feel like a girl, I want to feel like a girl. Not just y'know, do stuff that girls usually do." he sighed, "'M genderfluid Lou," his eyes welled up with tears again, "Sometimes 'm he, but sometimes, 'm she," he sniffled, "But you don't like girls Lou." he began crying again and Louis' heart clenched, "You said that day, you like boys Louis, you-you're- I-I l-love," he tripped on his words as Louis tutted and pulled him away from his chest so he could look at him.

"Darling," he cooed, wiping his tears away. "Harry I love you, I'm in love with you Haz, and I just want you to be happy," he whispered, "You mean everything to me, and you coming to terms and learning something about yourself makes me proud of you baby, it doesn't make my any less attracted to you or anything." He spoke, voice soft and raspy. "In fact, I think you look beautiful, absolutely stunning. And if this makes you happy, I am no one to stop you. You're you Hazza, and I love you for who you are. And if this is who you are, I am proud of you, and I love you." He kissed his forehead, then nose, then lips.

And the waterworks began again. Harry threw his arms around Louis' neck, the force of the hug sending Louis to the floor, who let out a small laugh and wrapped his arms tightly around him.

"I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you so much."

"I love you too, honey, more than anything. Thank you for telling me."

"Thank you Lou. Thank you." He whispered.

"Well, you can thank me after I fix your braid."

Harry got up and off him, letting out a wet chuckle and fixing his dress as Louis quickly kissed him and went to get rid of his uniform.

When he returned from the bathroom, changed into sweats, he saw Harry sitting at the dressing table, face wiped clean as he undid his braid, flowers falling to the floor.

He walked up to him and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, burying his face in his neck and taking a deep breath.

"New perfume?"

"Hmm."

They let silence envelop them in its warmth, Harry leaning into Louis' touch and both of them closing their eyes.

"Now," Louis began, voice soft. "Pass me your comb."

He began to slowly run it through his curls, marvelling at how much longer and shinier they'd gotten.

"So, I ask you for your pronouns every morning?" He asked, starting the braid. "Uh, yeah." He murmured. "Yeah," he said again, a touch firmer.

"And right now?"

Harry bit his lip and Louis let him take his time to answer. He did the braid, tucking away and clipping any loose strands with pretty looking flower clips.

"She, her?" Harry asked shyly, turning his head to look at how the braid had turned out.

"Alright." Louis smiled, ducking his head to kiss him. Harry too, smiled into the kiss and he felt silly-

Silly, that she'd thought Louis wouldn't have accepted her,

Because he'd just let her in his life with a smile.