Songs: The point by Correatown
               The runner by Foals

Louis felt like he was going insane.

Before school, he had never really felt the true pain of loneliness other than when he had lost his mum. He only had his dad, his siblings, and the business men or house keepers that would rush in and out of the house at random hours of the day. That used to be his normal. But now that he had friends and acquaintances of his own age, and those were taken away from him, he finally understood what it meant to be lonely. It was bitterly ironic.

Sometimes, when he was in the middle of studying in that bleak, silent room, or laying in bed on sleepless nights staring at the ceiling, he would think of random, amusing things that he now had nobody to talk to about.

Professor Corden had a habit of forgetting to tuck in the back of his shirt before classes, and over the past few weeks it had become an inside joke between Louis and Liam, apparently they had been the only two to notice it. Whenever Louis was bored back at school, he would find himself drawing aimlessly, little doodles that took up his entire page which he would then present to Zayn as if he was some art competition judge. Zayn was never impressed, that much was clear with his furrowed brows and twisted lips, but he always tried his best to keep his insults at bay. "Uh, yeah, wow Louis. The- detail, in that cartoon dick is immaculate"

Yes, cartoon dicks, smiley faces with 'x' for eyes and stick figures riding skateboards were the limit of his artistic abilities. Silly, immature drawings were apparently enough to settle his boredom.

Niall, surprisingly, was always a good choice for lengthy debates. They ranged from which chocolate bar was the best, to iPhone conspiracies, to political arguments and so on. Their conversations never needed to have a purpose and that's what Louis enjoyed about them. They could talk about aimless shit for hours on end, never straying away from one topic without ever having nothing more to add. Their conversations were to the point, bold, without any hidden meanings and without any confusion. Care free honesty. Louis loved it.

Harry seemed to have the whole package. His wit always made for an amusing conversation, it was playful, teasing at times, and funny even in moments where it really shouldn't have been. They had the same sense of humour, heavy with sarcasm and banter that would have set Louis spiralling into a temper tantrum when they had first met. Those cheeky remarks he used to scoff at, the joking insults he would take to heart, imitation he would feel humiliated by. He couldn't stand it in the beginning, Harry's upper hand and quick responses were almost intimidating, the way he could smooth off hateful words with a careless, charming demeanour, a curl of his lips, was like nothing he had seen before; only in himself. They were so alike yet so different it was hard to get his head around.

But then, whenever the mood shifted towards more serious topics, such as death, insecurities, fears, Harry could drop his grin, his eyes would soften with understanding, and his brows would pinch slightly as he concentrated on every single word that left Louis' mouth. He wouldn't interrupt, he'd never get distracted. As soon as there was even a hint of vulnerability, Harry's focus was entirely on him.

Louis hadn't felt that sense of care in years. His words that Harry latched onto had never mattered before, his opinions were never understood, let alone allowed. And he missed it, he really did. He hadn't met anyone quite like Harry Styles before, and he never felt anywhere near as important as how he made him feel. Harry had crash landed into his life with flames and destruction, and yet he was the same person who was now trying to mend it.

So, without his little support group, Louis felt like he was going insane.

He was essentially a prisoner of his own home. His phone and laptop were still tucked away somewhere in his fathers office, leaving him with no contact to the outside world, to his friends, and he still hadn't figured out a way to retrieve them or even buy any spares. He didn't want his sisters to have any part in his schemes, wouldn't risk them getting in trouble, and he couldn't bring himself to involve any of their staff in the case that they might get fired.

Lottie had offered countless times for Louis to use her phone. She could probably tell he was growing agitated, his temper wearing thin under the stress of the past week, but Louis always refused. Even when they were alone upstairs, surrounded by text books and cups of tea, he felt a deep sense of paranoia that at any moment his father could walk by, and in the chance that he did give in and use Lottie's phone, he would see and that would be the end of it. His sisters would probably have all their technology taken away, Lottie would be punished in some form, and Louis- well, he wasn't sure how much worse it could get, but he wasn't willing to find out either.

He hoped that maybe, if he were lucky enough or if his father was in a good mood, he would be allowed his phone seeming as it was his birthday.

This year he wasn't excited for it in the slightest. His birthday was nothing ever important anyway, taken over by festivities and the nagging reminder that he was born on Christmas Eve. He almost got the feeling that whilst he would wish for people to pay more attention to him, because this was his day, everyone else around him were silently wishing for the day to end. For his birthday to end. Because the next day they would be the one's receiving gifts and they could finally celebrate something that they were included in.

Usually, Louis would at least feel a little excitement with the prospect of receiving gifts. It wasn't like he couldn't buy himself whatever he wanted on an average day, but there was something about birthdays that made everything you got just that little bit more special. Last year he had gotten his Rolex watch, a few designer suits from various companies, the latest iPhone, a new laptop and countless more items he had probably forgotten about. This year though, not even the lavish presents could spark that excitement in his chest.

He was seventeen, and this day marked one exact year until he would gain every single responsibility that his father had. In a years time, he would learn the business, be thrown head first into the company, and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. He almost felt like this was his last year of what little freedom he still has.

"Louis" A knock and the maids voice came from the door. Louis was stood in front of the mirror fixing his hair, his outfit was formal yet still casual, black dress trousers with a white t- shirt and a matching black blazer. He would have preferred to stay in his joggers all day but he wasn't in the mood for a lecture. "Your fathers asking for you in the dining room"

Louis repressed his sigh and sent a smile towards the old lady, "Alright, thank you Alice"

"No problem, and happy birthday" She added, ducking out of the room as Louis thanked her again.

He glanced over at his wardrobe and remembered the stack of presents he had hidden inside, all neatly wrapped with sparkly bows stuck on the tops, little tags with different notes all starting with 'To Louis' and ending with 'From Harry' stuck besides them. Harry had said he could open two of them today, and Louis had been excited for them. Harry's presents were probably the only ones he was truly curious about, was itching to just rip open, but now after all the build up he found himself wanting to wait.

If his birthday was anything like it had been the previous years, then he wanted something positive to end the day on. Harrys presents would probably be amusing in some aspect, might lighten his day a little, so Louis took once last glance at the wardrobe and left the room; he could wait.

He quickly went downstairs and rounded the corner towards the dining room, a soft smile appearing on his face as he heard faint whispers of his sisters and shushes from who he assumed was Lottie. As soon as he entered the room the girls' hushed whispers erupted into cheerful shouts of 'Happy birthday!', stumbling out of their chairs as they rushed towards him with their arms spread wide.

Louis crouched down and accepted their hugs, almost falling onto his back as they pushed against his chest and underneath his arms. "Thank you" he breathed out through a laugh, "Did you all sleep well?"

"No. I was too excited to give you my present!" Daisy replied, and Louis felt like he could just about melt at that. "Can we give you them now?" Phoebe added, pulling back to look up at him with hopeful eyes.

"Wait until after breakfast" Mark commented, watching the scene from his seat at the head of the dining table. "Give Louis some space"

"It's fine" Louis shook his head and slowly stood back up, ushering his siblings back to the table, "But yeah, finish your breakfast first" he said as he took his own seat.

The table was absolutely packed with all of Louis favourite foods, from waffles and crepes, to fancy omelettes and bagels. Every year on Louis' birthday, the chefs would take extra care with the meals and would spoil Louis to all of their best dishes. It was a kind gesture, something they could do to make the day feel a little more special when it was so focused on Christmas, and Louis appreciated it just as much as he was sure the rest of his family did.

"Happy birthday Louis" Mark said whilst Louis filled his plate, "This time next year you'll be eighteen"

"Yes, I'm aware" Louis held back any more sarcastic comments, he already knew where this conversation was heading. "Thank you"

He knows exactly what his father intended by that sentence. It was an opening. An opening to the conversation Louis didn't want to hear. 'This time next year' really means one year left to prepare. One year left of intense academics, meetings and wherever the fuck else could shape him into the perfect business man. Louis didn't want that conversation today, a week from now, or in a years time, the mere thought of it had dread settling into his stomach.

"You're nearly an adult Louis. Soon enough you'll be in my place, just like you wanted-"

He didn't. He might have thought that is what he wanted for a long time, but in reality that wasn't the case. "Can we not? Please. I don't want to talk about this right now"

Mark cocked his head and lifted a brow, setting down his cup of coffee with slow, precise movements. "I thought you'd be excited"

Not in the slightest. "I am, I just- I don't want to talk business today, not on my birthday. I just want to spend time with the girls, maybe watch a few Christmas movies, I don't know" he trailed off, cutting into a waffle that was covered in melted Nutella and strawberries. He looked ahead and saw the girls had chocolate smeared all around their lips, and bit down his laughter.

"I'm afraid you might have to" Mark suddenly said, and Louis whipped his head back up in confusion. "There's a meeting I want you to attend today, with me and a few colleagues"

Louis could only stare at him in disbelief for a few moments, processing what he had just said. He had expected the 'one year left' conversation, he had expected his birthday to inevitably slide under the radar after he opens his presents, but this? A business meeting on his fucking birthday? It had to be a joke.

"You're joking, right?" Louis cleared his throat and voiced his thoughts. Surely his dad wouldn't be that inconsiderate. "It's my birthday"

"I know" Mark said it so carelessly, so ignorant. He knew, he just didn't care, and he wasn't joking. "All my colleagues know you'll be taking over eventually. I think it'll be good if they have some insight on your perspective"

"I don't have a perspective, I don't even know what type of company it is" he was trying hard to level out his voice, to keep his volume to the normal standard, but he was irritated and he was sure it showed. "What bloody insight will they get?"

See, he used to be able to picture everything. His future was set in stone, laid out bare for him, ripe for the taking. He would turn eighteen, the company would be handed over, he would be in control of everything. The colleagues, finances, plans, it was all for him. Then, when he was old and had a family of his own, his son would turn eighteen and his life would be passed down, full circle.

It hit him then that he knew absolutely nothing of his future.

He knew he would take over a company. That's it. His entire life he had thought he knew what his future held, he thought he knew every single detail as if he had read over a step by step plan written by his father. And now, he felt stupid, because he realised he knew nothing. So much so that when his fathers colleagues, his future colleagues, are going to ask him questions relating to his 'perspective', he won't have any answers to give.

"Don't swear in front of your sisters Louis" Mark scolded, his eyes narrowing, brows furrowed. He had taken that typical fatherly tone with him now, firm and unrelenting, the tone that says not to ask any questions and not to argue. "You know how to speak with my colleagues, you've done it before"

"Not like this" Louis hissed, a strange sense of panic settling into his bones. He didn't want this. He didn't want any of it. "I've talked to them about my education, what I had for dinner, normal shit. Not a business I know nothing about!"

"I won't tell you again, stop swearing" Marks face had hardened now, cold, the conversation had turned sour within minutes of sitting down at the table and Louis could tell he was losing his temper. "Stop making a fuss over it. I'll guide you through it, just like I always do. You're not supposed to know exactly what to say, that's the point. This is the first step"

God. He wasn't even eighteen yet and they were already at 'the first step'. Louis wanted to scream.

"You said this wouldn't start until I'm eighteen. You made that clear my whole life. I'm not prepared, I'm not ready for this" Louis shook his head. His food was forgotten about, all these special dishes the chefs had prepared for his birthday. They may as well not have bothered. "You can't just drop this on me now"

"You are prepared. I've prepared you for serious conversations such as this meeting for seventeen years now. Stop acting like a ten year old and quit complaining, you knew this was coming"

Right. Like a ten year old. Because when he was ten he still had his mothers influence, she would have never allowed this, and Louis was sure his father wasn't expecting this kind of reaction. Because if she was still around now, Louis would be acting in the same way and Mark clearly didn't want that.

"Why are you arguing on Louis' birthday?" Phoebe asked innocently, the chocolate still smeared around her mouth, covering her hands, her food half eaten. Louis now noticed they had all forgotten the sugary goods during the argument.

"We're not pheebs, it's alright. Just a disagreement" Louis replied softly, carefully, standing from his seat before rounding the table. Once he reached them he grabbed a napkin and crouched down, "Come here, you've made a right mess of yourself" he said, gently beginning to wipe the chocolate from the twins' faces as they giggled and tried to pull away.

"The meetings at eleven in the general office" Mark stood from his seat, the chair squeaking as it dragged heavily against the wooden floor. He shook out his suit and wiped his mouth one last time with his napkin, throwing it to the table as he left. "If you're quick you can open your sisters presents, and you can have mine later. I expect you to be in there on time"

At once the girls scattered off with excitement, laughing and screeching as they rushed to retrieve their presents. Louis shook his head in amusement as he stood back up, knees aching as he reached full height. Mark nodded at him once as he breezed past him, purpose in every step, and left the room without another word.

Louis sighed and took a seat across the other side of the room as he waited, tapping his foot anxiously against the floor, chewing at the inside of his lip. He tried not to think of the meeting, avoided looking at his watch to check the time, and instead tried to guess what his presents might be this year. It was no secret that his father bought the presents and his siblings only gifted them, they were still too young for the whole ordeal just yet, but Louis never let it show that he was aware of the fact. He liked to let them have their moment of faux independence, would let them pretend they were at that level of maturity; they were young and innocent and they should enjoy that whilst they could.

Soon enough the girls were flooding into the room again, forming a semi circle around his chair with arms hidden behind backs, hiding the presents Louis would see in a moment anyway. They were bickering about who should give their present first, arguing over who did it last year and claiming it 'wasn't fair'. Louis could only laugh softly at them, endeared by their eagerness as he hushed them and coaxed them to settle down. They got like this every year, so he was used to it by now.

"It doesn't matter who goes first, I'm sure I'll love all your presents equally" Louis smiled. Fizzy was now sat on one arm of his chair, Lottie on the other, whilst the twins sat on the floor besides his feet, staring up at him with those bright blue eyes they all shared, filled with hope. "How about, I close my eyes and pick at random. That sound fair to you?"

They nodded immediately and Louis covered his eyes. He heard faint whispers and the crinkling sounds of the wrapping paper as they placed the presents on his lap. A moment later they announced they were done, and Louis removed his hands from his eyes to see four not so neatly wrapped presents in various shapes and sizes. They were bloody adorable, his sisters, wrapping the presents themselves when they could have just asked the maids.

"Well, your wrapping skills are certainly better than last year, if not by much" He teased, picking a present at random. This one was small, square shaped and covered in red wrapping paper. He shook it a little towards his ear, just to amuse his sisters and build up the reveal, before he carefully began to open it.

"That ones mine, by the way" Lottie said, her eyes glued to the half opened present. "It took quite a bit of convincing"

Louis glanced up at her with squinted eyes and she shot a smirk right back. Because, right, this was finally the year she wasn't going to pretend she had bought it herself. She always could see through Louis' bullshit, as Louis could with hers. It was about time they reached this understanding.

"Why would father need any convincing to buy something?" Louis scoffed, letting the wrapping paper fall to the floor. In his hands was a small jewellery box, the black velvet soft to the touch yet rough as he dragged his thumb in the opposing direction. He opened the box slowly, the hinges clicking ever so slightly, and perched between its cushions was a shining silver ring, a plain band, but with a small 'J' carved into the metal.

His eyes widened as he stared at it, focusing in on the simple initial that meant so much more to him than an outsider would expect. It was a small gift, nothing extravagant, but it was  significant and heart warming, something that his expensive luxuries couldn't ever match. Lottie had outdone herself this year.

"That's why it took some convincing" Lottie said, her tone gentle yet smug. She knew she had done well.

"Course you happened to pick Lottie's first" Fizz sighed dramatically, a slight pout on her lips as she watched her brother slide the ring onto his finger. "Ours will look shit in comparison"

"Fizzy!" Louis shot his head up, his mouth agape with shock. He was amused by her foul language, most likely due to his own slip ups, but he figured he had to at least try act responsible. "No swearing. And, like I said, I'll love all your presents equally"

"It's your fault, you're always swearing"

"You like it then?" Lottie asked, now slightly shy, waiting for his approval.

"Of course I do, I love it" Louis' eyes lingered on the ring before he met his sisters, sending her a bright smile as he pulled her in for a hug. "Thank you, it's really thoughtful"

She hadn't needed to go through all the trouble just for his birthday. They knew he wasn't all that bothered about it anymore and would be happy to receive nothing more than their company if he had the choice. It must have been difficult convincing their father to buy such a gift when the man hardly let them speak on the matter, and this fact made Louis all the more appreciative.

By the end of it, from Daisy he had received expensive chocolates from one of the most popular, private chocolatiers in the country. They came in a leather bound box that required a tiny, golden key to open it, and the chocolates themselves lay in rows atop of red velvet material. Phoebe had gotten him a football shirt signed by his favourite player, Lionel Messi, which he freaked out over for at least five minutes. He knew his father had a wide range of connections, but if he had known that famous footballers were included in that range, he would've been begging for it a lot sooner. Finally, Fizzy had gotten him a ridiculously expensive cologne from Creed, spice and wood, that he had been meaning to buy for the past few months. That stuff sold out as quick as new iPhones did, so he was glad to finally own the product.

He thanked each of them profusely with tight hugs and kisses to the cheek before reluctantly sending them off upstairs, it was time for the meeting, and he didn't want to attend just as much as they didn't want to leave his side.

He had heard their loud footsteps and unabashed laughter as they had been let inside the house, halfway through Louis' present opening. There seemed to be many of them this time, unlike the usual main three of John, Paul and Miles, and the thought set Louis' heart racing faster than he ever thought it could. He took a moment to calm himself before he left the dining room, using the breathing techniques Sarah had taught him, and made at least four trips to the mirror before he deemed himself presentable and managed to force his feet forward.

When Louis enters the office, a large room with one long table, chandeliers hung above and a fireplace blazing towards the back, the maids were shuffling around the men with scotch bottles in hand, pouring their drinks until they gestured to stop. The men are rowdy today, their voices booming off the walls and unsettling the dust, lighting each other's cigarettes with flip lighters whilst punctuating every sentence they spoke with a curse word or two. There had to be at least twenty of them, to Louis' horror, huddled around the table in a sea of grey, blues and blacks, wrist watches gleaming in the lights.

Louis was not ready for this.

"There's the birthday boy!" John shouted as his eyes rested on Louis, who stood besides the door feeling entirely uncomfortable, one hand clutching the door frame. At once, heads turned and the number of eyes staring him down multiplied, sharp and curious, judging. Louis wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. "Come on in lad, don't be scared" John added, waving a hand towards himself.

He swallowed thickly and stepped forward, elbowing the door closed behind him, trapping himself in this room of sharks. He felt so small right now, insignificant amongst all these faces that some he didn't even recognise, and yet he knew he was significant to them. They were ready to pick him apart, figure him out, and by the end of this they would each have their own verdict. They couldn't change the fact that he was to be in charge in a years time, but they could certainly form an opinion.

"He's a lot smaller than I thought he'd be, Mark" Someone said towards the back. Louis couldn't see him but he still felt like shrinking in on himself, his shoulders tensing and steps faltering slightly. The comment had half the room laughing. "He looks nothing like the photos"

"Those photos are two years old, Kane. He'll grow in no time, you watch" Mark replied, his tone cold yet amused. Louis stopped again and finally saw him, stood besides John with a cigarette perched between two fingers, analysing his every move like the rest of his colleagues. "Take a seat, let's get this started shall we"

The men mumbled their agreements and found their seats around the table. Mark was sat at the head, John on his right and Paul to his left. Louis released a heavy breath and took the last seat available, the opposing end from his father.

"Do you smoke Louis?" John suddenly asked, barely giving him a chance to get situated. It sounded more like an offer, which Louis found strange, and he didn't quite know how to answer. Every single person in this room had a cigarette either dangling from their lips or clutched between their fingers. The smell was intense, burning through his nostrils and stinging at his eyes. Though he couldn't deny he had liked the few times he had smoked, right now everything felt heightened, his senses more sharp; it was a little overwhelming.

"Really, John?" Mark rolled his eyes, a slight shake of his head. "You're asking my son if he smokes?"

"Well he's going to eventually, everyone in this business does" John let out a soft chuckle, eyeing his own cigarette. "I'm sure we all said we wouldn't at one point in time, and look at us now"

"Joseph down there was adamant he wouldn't when he first joined us, now he smokes more than the rest of us put together!" A man further up the table stated, pointing at who Louis assumed was Joseph.

Joseph, who looked to be one of the younger men sat around the table, flipped the other off as he sipped at his scotch. "Suppose I am younger than you, don't have those old man lungs do I"

Louis remained silent as the rest of the men cheered and laughed, banging fists on the table and spilling drinks on their polished floor. He felt like he didn't fit in at all. He didn't find their jokes funny, didn't know how he should be reacting to them. Didn't know when to make a comment or if he were even allowed. He didn't know how to answer their questions and he didn't know which to ask. It was all very confusing, and as much as his father claimed he had 'prepared him', he couldn't think of a single piece of advice that would get him through this unscathed.

"So, do you?" John repeated once the men had settled down again, gesturing to his cigarette.

Louis shook his head and linked his hands in his lap, "No" he lied.

John nodded slowly, his lips pursed. "Well, you look quite tense. Would you like one?"

"John" Mark quickly intervened, his voice warning, harsh.

John waved him off, "Relax, I'll bet he's already nicked at few from you" he said with a grin. He nodded towards the man sat on Louis' right, and he immediately offered his pack to Louis. "It'll calm him down a bit. He's been bothered since he got in here"

Louis glanced at the pack and then looked forward towards his father. Mark sighed and shrugged his shoulders, "Whatever, do what you want" he said before knocking back the last of his drink.

Fuck it. Louis took a cigarette and the lighter offered to him, sparking it up as he inhaled with practiced ease. He could feel the eyes burning onto him again, not that many had ever left, but tried to ignore his nerves as he exhaled the smoke, a toxic cloud trailing from his lips. "Yeah, he's definitely nicked a few from you already Mark" Paul commented, laughing slightly.

"Clearly not his first time" John agreed with a smirk. It almost felt like they were taking the piss out of his father, pointing out the fact that he didn't in fact know everything about his son. Oddly, it felt refreshing seeing them joke with or about him, perhaps because he had expected total seriousness, or that people rarely acted this way with Mark out of fear. It was quite surprising.

"Do you have any valid questions or are you going to keep offering cigarettes?" Mark quipped, tilting his head to the side. "I'm sure Louis doesn't want to be in here any longer than necessary on his birthday"

"I think you might need another, actually. Quite snippy today aren't you" John held out his cigarette pack, only for his hand to be knocked away. "Alright, fine" he set his pack back onto the table and made a gesture of surrender.

"What do you know about the company Louis?" Someone asked impatiently, a man with deep black hair and a trimmed beard of the same colour. His eyes were blue and his skin so pale that Louis reckoned he might have hibernated for the past year, untouched by the sun.

"Not much really" He shrugged, pausing to take another drag, trying to appear as collected as possible. "I know it's international, I know we own factories across the uk and in other countries. I know the majority of our clientele resides in Italy, we're big in America too, and I assume all marketing is done privately to specific, chosen individuals seeming as the general public know nothing of this business, including myself"

He said it almost bitterly without meaning to do so. He hadn't intended his words to be quite that sharp or sophisticated, and from the expressions of the men, they weren't expecting it either. He wasn't sure where it came from, just a moment ago he was absolutely terrified of the first question, but it seemed he had breezed through that powered by his own frustrations. Because, really? What does he know about the business? Pretty much nothing, and they knew that. It was a dumb fucking question that he didn't wish to answer.

Louis paused and tapped off his cigarette. "I was hoping you'd tell me more about the business to be honest. What's the use in asking me shit you all know I won't be able to answer?"

Smug smiles fell from faces, brows furrowed in curiosity, others rose in surprise. Ongoing conversations between pairs had dulled and Louis had caught their full attention. They had been present beforehand, had acknowledged that Louis was here, but for the majority of the room, their intentions with this meeting were only to observe, to listen in when something piqued their interest. Louis reckoned most of them attended with the promise of free booze and the luxury of being waited on hand and foot by the maids. Now though, it was serious. They were listening.

Another colleague, that again Louis didn't recognise, whistled lowly as his eyes widened, his lips forming a half smirk. "Well, he's certainly got the attitude for it"

"What do you want to know?" Miles asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows against the table, craning his neck for a better view of Louis.

Louis paused and thought for a moment. There was a lot he wanted to know, so much that this meeting could go on for days, but he did prioritise a few questions and reasoned he might as well take his chance. Perhaps the other men could convince his father to finally explain something, anything. "What type of business is this exactly?"

"We can't explain that just yet" Mark replied immediately, as if he had known that question would be the first to be asked, and his reply had been resting on the tip of his tongue. "When you're eighteen"

Louis fought down his sigh and stilled his eyes, so badly wanting to roll them. "Well what can you explain? This meeting is pointless if I can't even know the basics"

"You never mentioned he was this feisty Mark"

"I thought he was shy when he first walked in"

"He never used to be this feisty" Mark sighed, rubbing a hand across his forehead. "The company is a mix of multiple services, Louis. We work with other corporations over seas and we make deals that, admittedly, will benefit us more so than them"

"That tells me nothing" Louis replied with a blank face, unamused. "I knew this already"

"Look, this isn't about my company specifically-"

"Then what's your point" Louis interrupted firmly, earning a few repressed smiles hidden behind hands around the table.

"Don't interrupt me" Mark warned with a glare, "Just because we aren't giving you the details you want, it does not mean this conversation isn't relevant. We want to know how you would go about running a business in general"

"But I don't know how to run a business" Louis spoke through the smoke in his mouth, "Sure, you've taught me how to act like a business man, but that's acting, isn't it. I know nothing about the real thing"

"Would you stop being so difficult" Mark snarled, his knuckles turning white around his scotch glass.

"I'm only telling you the truth" He was right. Louis was right and everyone knew it, including his father even if he wouldn't admit it. They can't expect him to speak on a subject he knew nothing about. Louis took the final drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out, and stood from his chair with new found confidence. He was sure he would get punished for this later, but right now he couldn't find it in himself to care. "How about we reschedule this meeting for a later date? Maybe when someone actually starts explaining shit"

The shocked expressions appeared again, along with an unreadable look from his father. He couldn't quite tell if it were more anger or embarrassment, but probably both. "That sound good to you?" Louis glanced around with a fake smile, tight lips spread across his face, and nodded once when he received no replies. "Thought so. Have a nice day gentlemen"

He wasted no time in leaving the room, his quick footsteps padding the floor as he retreated, back towards the men. His heart was positively racing, still from the remains of his nerves but mostly from adrenaline, and he couldn't help but feel proud of himself for the way he had handled that situation, entirely different from what he had anticipated, nothing like the outcomes he had envisioned in his mind. He still didn't know half of their names, had barely answered any questions they may have been waiting to ask, and though the mere thought of what could come later terrified him, he wouldn't change a thing.

He had held his ground, had taken control of the meeting, and even managed to do so in a way that was professional yet witty enough to spark some laughter around the table. For this reason alone, he wondered how badly his father could really react later on, because although he may have damaged his pride a little, had shown him up in front of his own colleagues, isn't this what he had wanted? Remove Mark from the situation, and that is exactly how he had been told to act when his time comes to take over the company.

Once his nerves had settled, and the men had stopped staring at him as if he were fresh meat, he had sat there and carried the conversation with calm control likened to his father. He had asked questions, he had gave his opinions, and he hadn't taken any of their bullshit just because they were senior to him. He acted in the only way he knew how to, they way Mark had taught him, and if his father didn't like that then he had no one to blame but himself.

With one disaster over with, he jogged up stairs in search of his sisters, determined to spend his birthday in the way he wanted to.

————

The rest of his day had been spent exactly how he had initially planned, how it was every year, watching Christmas movies with his sisters such as Elf and A Christmas Carol, all whilst the chefs prepared anything and everything they desired. Cinnamon swirls, chocolate cake, Eclairs- the house smelt like a bakery by the end of it and the living room was dotted with plates and empty cups of tea or hot chocolate. They were rarely allowed such treats, especially in this quantity, so they always made the most of birthday celebrations and Christmas Day.

To say his father wasn't happy was an understatement. After a few hours the business men finally started stumbling out of their house, the scent of whiskey thick in their mouths and their clothes stained with the scent of cigarettes. They sang a chorus of happy birthday as they made their way through the house, clutching one another as they swayed towards the front door, and cheered Louis' name until their slurred voices were cut off.

His father only appeared once the house had grown quiet again, save for the dialogue running from the tv, and his own heavy footsteps lingering in the hallways. He stopped in the doorframe of the living room, tie loosened and eyes heavy as they raked across the cleared plates and his sisters lounging across sofas, until they stopped on Louis and settled there for a moment, expression blank. He nodded once behind himself and Louis stood up with a sigh; there was no use in running from him.

Louis supposed he should have seen it coming. Of course, he hadn't expected the best reaction, not after how he had behaved and the fact that Mark was more than a little tipsy, but it was also hard to come to terms with the possibility that your own flesh and blood might hit you for a third time. It was easy to deny it, to tell yourself you are worrying over nothing, that it won't happen. But, ultimately if it's happened once, then it's likely to happen again.

He didn't wait for Louis, didn't speak a word, but he knew Louis was following him as he strode through the house on clumsy legs, the alcohol apparent in his every step. Louis furrowed a brow as they passed his office, Mark hardly sending a glance towards the oak door, but instead continued forward towards the front door of the house, where all those men had left only moments prior. He swung the door open, stepped outside, and stopped abruptly on the stone porch as Louis hesitantly waited besides him.

There was a car there that Louis had never seen before. Parked up in the middle of their driveway, a sleek black Porsche Boxster with a matte top and gleaming finish. He stared at it in awe for a moment, eyes wide, hope bursting through his chest. Because this was either his birthday present, or a car left here by one of the drunken men, unable to drive himself home.

"Beautiful, isn't it" Mark finally said, his words slightly slurred as he stared ahead at the car, and it was no lie, the car really was stunning. "I'd always been quite excited for this moment when I found out your mother was pregnant with you, my first son, my only son" He turned to face Louis and reached into his pocket. Louis could hear the jangling sound of metal, a key scraping its key ring. "Your grandfather bought me my first car when I was seventeen, a Ferrari F355. Those were all the rage back then, I couldn't have been more pleased with it"

"Where is it now?" Louis couldn't help but ask.

"I crashed it" Mark shook his head, somewhat amused by the memory. "I was bloody devastated, and my father threw a fit. I suppose i wasn't as responsible back then, probably wasn't mature enough for a car" he dragged his hand from his pocket and held up the key, black with the Porsche logo embedded into the leather. "Makes me wonder if you're ready for one"

Louis paused, his stomach sinking. "What?"

Mark sighed and lowered the key, "You were disrespectful today. My colleagues made the effort of driving down here ready to get to know you, to meet their future boss, the future of this company. You answered one question Louis, one. And you were rude about it too. Not only did you embarrass yourself but you embarrassed me and this family"

"Well what did you expect?" Louis almost screeched, shock rushing through him. He couldn't fucking win with him, ever. No matter what he did it was never good enough, not even when sticking to Marks own advice. "You practically threw me to the wolves in there! You gave me no time to prepare, no warning. I didn't know who half of those men were and you expected me to be happy talking to them about the business on my birthday? How would the ever end well, how?"

"You were in no position to call off a meeting not even half way through. You never gave it a chance. I don't give a shit if you don't know who they are Louis, they're important to this company and you do not just walk out on them"

"It was better than sitting there not knowing what to say" Louis stated firmly, trying to level out his voice whilst his anger spiked again. "You always told me that if I didn't know how to handle a situation, I should figure a way out, and that's what I did" There was no way that meeting could have ended well. If he had stayed and tried to answer the questions with no knowledge on the company, Mark would have looked bad for not teaching him, and of course that would somehow be Louis' fault. The other option was to end it as soon as possible, and though that wasn't a great outcome either, Louis reckoned it was the best of the two.

"You acted like a spoiled brat" Mark practically hissed at him, fist balled tightly around the key.

"Oh? And am I not spoiled?" Louis laughed, pointing towards the car. "Am I not a spoiled brat when that Porsche over there is now mine? Just handed to me when I've done nothing to deserve it" It was self deprecating, Louis knew. He rarely pointed out such things about himself, but if he could use his own flaws to prove a point, he would be quick to do so.

"You are spoiled, more than you should be. I work hard, I give you everything you want, and yet you continue to act out against me. Recently you've been such a disappointment"

Louis shook his head, mostly to himself, and smiled because that's all he could do right now. "Such a fucking hypocrite" he mumbled, low and tired. There was no use in this. There wouldn't be an agreement, there wouldn't be a winner. What's the point?

He had almost been waiting for it to happen. The entire conversation, every sentence he finished he was expecting it, ready for it, because he wouldn't stop fighting and his father couldn't control his anger. The force of the punch it's self was familiar now, that same prickle of pain flushing through his skin as knuckles connected with his cheek, the ache of bone crashing bone, and- another element; the jagged side of the key puncturing his flesh, slashing dangerously close to his eye, hot, searing pain that caused a yelp to jump from his throat as he staggered backwards.

Louis' fingers were stained red when he removed his hands from the wound, shaking, his breath caught somewhere in his chest and tears pooling in his eyes. He hadn't expected that. Not the key. He had forgotten his father had even been holding it when he drew his fist up and swung it towards him. Maybe if he had, he might have put up more of a fight, but then again, he hadn't thought keys could cause too much damage.

It seemed that Mark may have forgotten too, as his brows pinched together and his eyes flicked with confusion between the gash on Louis' cheek and the bloodied key still clutched in his hand. Any remorse was short lived, though, as his confusion was wiped clean from his features and replaced by an indifferent expression. "You can have the car when you decide to grow up. This isn't a fucking joke Louis. This is reality, your future, and you need to start taking it seriously"

Louis didn't stay to hear anything else. He gave his father, the same man who had caused the trickle of blood trailing down his cheek, one last disbelieving glance, and rushed back inside the house on trembling legs. He took the stairs two at a time, as fast as his shaking body could carry him, praying that his sisters wouldn't see him in this state. He was tired of making excuses for his father, but he couldn't- wouldn't allow himself to scare them. They shouldn't live in this house with fear of the man who was supposed to protect them. Louis could deal with the fear, he was used to it, and he would hide it so long as his sisters had as normal of a childhood as possible.

He made it to his room and locked the door after stepping inside. It was finally silent in here. No rowdy men, no squeals and giggles of his sisters, no dialogue from the tv. Just the ragged breaths that left his parted lips, the sound of his own heartbeat racing in his ears, birds faintly chirping outside the windows. It would be peaceful if not for the stinging sensation on his cheek, nagging at his skin with irritation.

He moved to face his mirror and assess the damage. It didn't look as bad as it felt, not by a long shot, and it oddly sent relief washing through him. The gash ran along his cheekbone, starting from his temple and ending just under his eye. It looked more like a graze if anything, the blood he had felt only seeping from the very beginning of the wound where the key had dug in the hardest upon impact. He nodded to his own reflection, lips pursed, because at least if anyone asked, it could pass with the claim that he had just fallen over.

He sighed and retrieved a damp cloth from his bathroom. The most he could do right now was clean the broken skin, wincing every once in a while when his not so gentle hands would press a little too harshly. He tried to remember how Harry had helped him last time, how he had made it so simple, painless. He had been gentle, his hands soft against harsh bruises, easing the tension from his shoulders as Louis relaxed into his care. Harry would probably own some kind of ointment to heal it, perhaps not tiger balm, but something else that Louis certainly didn't own but wished he did. Water would have to suffice for now.

With nothing more to do, and in need of a distraction, his eyes trailed to the wardrobe where Harry's presents were hidden away, tucked behind dress trousers and cotton shirts, the red wrapping paper just peeking through the greys and the blacks. He had waited long enough.

He opened the wardrobe and settled on the floor, knees aching against the cold wood as his eyes searched for the tags that read 'Louis, open only on your birthday! - H' He smiled fondly at the bold, jagged handwriting, all in capital letters, and pulled the presents towards himself.

One was large, heavy, and on the top of the box Harry had written 'fragile!' In big, scruffy letters that he underlined twice. Louis quirked a brow and began to tear the wrapping paper from the box, letting it fall carelessly around his legs. It took a while for him to scratch off the tape that bound the box together, his short nails doing nothing in his favour, but finally managed to get the thing open, and the first thing he saw was another note. This one read 'I said I'd buy you a new one ;)'

Louis' brows furrowed further, unable to recall a time where Harry had said he would buy him anything. He folded the note neatly and set it aside before standing and reaching into the box. His hands met a cold, smooth surface, hollow inside and shaped in a circular form. He pulled it up, shaking the box that was clinging to the item, and finally he understood that this must be the 'gag gift' that harry had warned him about.

His lips curled up in amusement. Harry had bought him the same Bulgarian vase that he had smashed on their first day, when Louis had thrown a pillow at him, and Harry had failed at doing the same. The vase that he had hit Harry over, even if he secretly thought the ornament was ugly with its strange patterns and mis-matched colours, that was extremely over priced and definitely not worth replacing, but- it was a joke, wasn't it. It was a reminder, almost, of how utterly stupid their arguments used to be. Louis didn't even like it, never really had, but now it had a new meaning, it was an inside joke of sorts.

He shook his head, biting back a grin, and lifted the vase to place in the corner of his room. That's when he heard a faint rattle, something clinking at the bottom of the vase. He set it down and reached inside, at first not grasping anything, wondering if he actually might be going insane, until his fingers brushed something small. He drew it out, and in the palm of his hand rested a tiny key. The same fucking key he had lost that day of the photo shoot, leaving Harry in handcuffs for hours on end.

Harry found it? Or, did Harry have it the whole time? Louis just stared at it for a moment, tracing the key between his fingers, until his smile reappeared and he set the key down on his bed side table. He would have to ask him about it- would right now, if he had his phone.

The next gift was much smaller, a little square box that barely weighed a thing. Inside was a necklace. A single, thin chain, and attached was a silver pendant carved into a pair of angel wings that looked remarkably similar to Harry's own Halloween costume- a fallen angel. Louis didn't own much jewellery other than his watches, never saw the appeal of it, but he found himself eagerly removing the item from its box, clumsily trying to clasp the chain around his neck. He loved it. It was simple, beautiful, and there was meaning to it, a thought behind the present; it was an unspoken agreement that this represented the shared pain of loss they both had endured, and Louis felt that deeply as the pendant rested beneath his shirt, laying across his chest. He wondered if he would ever take it off.

Finally was a card, 'Louis' written on the front of the envelope. He realised he probably should have opened the card first, but shrugged off the thought as he ripped open the seal. And, well, it was certainly something you would expect Harry to chose. On the front was a drawing of a cartoon egg, and underneath, printed in bold, stated 'Have an Eggsellent birthday!'

Fuck sake. This boy would be the death of him.

Inside the card, on the left hand side that was usually blank, Harry had taped a photograph. Louis' amused smile softened into one of endearment as he gently removed the picture from the card, the one Harry had taken of him the day of the football match against Rotherham, when he had scored the winning goal. Harry had said he would print them, was so excited about it, bursting with pride as he showed the photo to Louis for the first time back in their dorm room on the small screen of his camera. Louis had assumed he had forgotten about it after not receiving the pictures, but with how adamant Harry had been, he should've known better than to doubt him.

He placed the photo to the side and settled on the floor, his back leaning against the foot of his bed as his eyes drifted to Harry's distinct handwriting. His words had taken up the entire page, little left of the white card to be seen, but Louis didn't mind. He wouldn't have minded if Harry had written him an entire book, because this felt like the first form of communication he had with Harry after weeks of silence, even if there were no way of him replying.

Louis,
Knowing you, I think it's safe to assume you've already opened the presents before you even registered that there was this card, but i hope you like them, you're not exactly an easy person to buy for what with your lifestyle. I'm sure that nothing quite compares to whatever your family have bought you, but regardless, you deserve everything and so much more.
(Stop judging my sappiness, I know you are)

He was, slightly, but only in a fond sense, unable to prevent the smile pressing at his lips as his thumb traced the ink, feeling his words against his fingertips, hearing his voice in his head. Harry was right there, narrating the card to him even if not present. Louis imagined it would take him just as long to speak this card as it was to write it.

I wish I could be with you to celebrate, wish I could've seen your reaction to that god awful vase that you and I both know is ugly, (your father has no taste, sorry), but I hope you're having a wonderful day, and I'm secretly hoping your sisters are annoying you whilst I can't be there to do so, (kidding, or am I?).

Louis rolled his eyes. Biting back a grin. Only Harry fucking styles would tease you through a birthday card.

Anyway. I'm sure I'll be missing you at the time you chose to read this, whether you've stuck to your word or opened this early, either way, call me when you get a chance to so that we can virtually celebrate. I'll get the champagne going and everything!

God, Louis wished he could. Harry wouldn't have known about his phone being confiscated at the time of writing this, neither would Louis, but he'd give anything to talk to someone right now. Harry, Liam, Niall, Zayn. Anyone, he didn't care. Champagne with Harry on FaceTime sounded like just the thing he needed, only it sent a pang of disappointment through his chest as he knew it wasn't possible.

If you're too busy that's fine too. I'm sure you will be. But just know I'm thinking of you, I can't wait to see you, and I hope everything's okay. Happy birthday Lou.
-H, Bambi, Curly.

—————

Christmas Day was a disaster.

Of all days for his fathers business to have a complication, of course it had to be Christmas Day, and as always, Louis knew nothing of this 'complication' that had his father losing his temper over minor mishaps.

He wasn't there whilst Louis and his siblings opened their presents in the morning. Wasn't there to witness the utter chaos his younger sisters brought to Christmas morning each year. Banging doors and jumping on beds, screaming the house awake through their excitement, demanding impatiently that everyone should make their way down to the living room where the Christmas tree stood with all their gifts laying underneath it.

Louis was left to control them this time, fortunately with the help of the maids, and usually he wouldn't mind. He had taken care of them enough times to know how to settle them, and they seemed to respect him enough as their older brother to listen when it all became a bit too much. But, fuck sake, today? Mark chose work over his family today. He left Louis in charge on probably one of the most chaotic days of the year when he should be enjoying this too. He was still a kid, not the parent, and even though some may see it as being selfish, Louis did not want to deal with any of it.

At one point, Louis could only sit with a tired stare as he watched the disarray unfold, his own presents left unopened, bones still aching with sleep. The twins were screaming at each other over who's present was who's, seeming as they had gotten the same item only in different colours, their voices bouncing off the walls and ringing in his ears. Félicité had spilt nail polish over the carpet, and in retaliation, Lottie was chasing her around the room pelting balls of wrapping paper at her back, destroying the neat pile Louis had made only moments before.

They were like caged animals finally released to the wild, and for once, Louis had no idea how to control them. It was so easy when Mark was here, he could shout one word and the room would fall silent, the girls coming to a stop, and they would sit down with calmed fronts, acting like angels as they took it in turns to open their presents, thanking their father after every single one. With Louis, he could shout multiple times and his words would fall on death ears, the chaos only erupting further.

By the time Mark returned home, Louis still hadn't even had the chance to open his own presents, too distracted by everything else going on, and by that point he didn't care, he would rather go back to bed and sleep the day away. He had gotten the blame for the state of the living room, even with himself and the maids trying to explain the situation, but Mark was having none of it. Apparently Louis was the chosen target for his work related frustrations and he couldn't find it in himself to be surprised.

It were as if he couldn't do a single thing right today. Mark had made him clean the nail polish from the carpet, only to scream at him halfway through, claiming he was only staining the carpet further. He was scolded for setting the table in the wrong order after offering his help to the maids, and had Mark essentially take the piss out of him for the next twenty minutes. He had been told off for not changing out of his pyjamas even though he hadn't yet found the time to, and Mark wouldn't allow him to leave the table to get some ibuprofen for his pounding headache.

His every move was being watched. Mark breathing down his neck, just waiting for any opportunity to release his anger. They weren't even significant things, was never something that would deserve such treatment, but Louis was paranoid of even just breathing in the wrong way, sure that something so stupid would be enough to tip him off the edge. It had him sat in near silence for the rest of the day, observing his sisters as they played with their new toys or made commentary to some Disney movie, offering up a smile every once in a while when his siblings would peer at him with worried curiosity.

The only relief he felt was when the day came to an end. His father had gone to bed early, lines of frustration deepened on his forehead, his lips still pulled down into a frown, eyes sending daggers Louis' way as he left the room to head upstairs. He ignored his tense muscles as he rounded up the girls and lead them to their bedrooms, knees cracking ever so slightly as he trudged up the stairs, deep bags settled under his eyes- but finally, a smile had appeared on his face, faint but evident because now was his chance and his mind was firmly made.

He had thought about it all day, even now as he tucked his sisters into bed and left them with a kiss to their foreheads. He had considered it, debated it ever since he had read the last word on Harry's birthday card- and it was mad, he knew, it was risky, somewhat stupid, and selfish in the sense that it had guilt shooting through him as he took one last glance at his sisters and closed the door behind himself, but he needed this. Desperately, he needed to do this for himself.

He quietly made his way to his room and prepared a bag. He didn't pack much, just the essentials such as clothes and a few toiletries before making his way back downstairs, careful of the creaky floorboards that by now he had memorised. Fortunately, his father had forgotten to lock his office door before going to bed, most likely due to the stress of the complication at work and the tiresome events of Christmas Day. Louis glanced around before pushing inside and rushed towards his fathers desk where he knew he kept his phone, fumbling with stacks of documents until he found it hidden in a draw, alongside his stash of cigarettes which Louis felt no remorse in taking.

His shoved a pack into his pocket along with a lighter whilst he waited for his phone to turn on. Once the screen lit up, illuminating the darkness of the room, he wasted no time in booking a taxi, fingers shaking as he typed out the details, his nerves spiking along with relief once the taxi was confirmed.

He sat back into a chair as he waited for it to arrive with unsure emotions and doubtful thoughts. He didn't know if this was the right thing to be doing, not at all, but it felt like the only thing he could do. He felt guilty that he was leaving his sisters behind, especially with it being Boxing Day tomorrow, but he was certain that they would be fine. His father rarely had issues with the girls and the staff would look out for them; if anything went wrong at least now they could call him. He just needed to get out, just for a short while, at least to clear his head a bit. For the past two weeks all he had were orders from his father, discipline, rules, work. Punishment. He felt like he was at breaking point, and if he didn't take this chance now, he may not get another one until the school term starts up again.

He always put his sisters first. Always obeyed Mark as if he were a puppet. The taxi was waiting for him outside and he was going to take it. He had to put his needs first for once, regardless of the consequences.

The drive there took about two hours. 'The runner' by foals blaring through his ear phones seemed to be the only thing keeping his eyes open, heavy guitar strings and drum beats fighting off the fatigue persistent in his body. His forehead rested against the cold glass of the window, his limbs too heavy to keep upright, and Louis could only feel sympathetic for his driver who looked utterly dishevelled, hair a mess with bloodshot eyes- there was a certain kind of respect for those who worked night shifts.

Soon enough they were pulling up outside a beautiful house. The exterior looked to be a mix of modern and rustic, wood panels contrasting with the cream and grey slates that lined the walls. Lamps lit up the front porch, and drifted just over the dark rooms behind the glass walls off to one side of the house. If Louis squinted, he could faintly make out that it was a living room, decorated in soft, neutral tones, quite cabin like and definitely cosy despite how big the home was.

Louis thanked the driver and stepped outside having already paid when he booked. The winter breeze hit his face at once, whipping through his hair and sending shivers across his skin. The house was pretty isolated, located in the middle of nowhere with a woodland area surrounding the entirety of it, and all lights inside the house had been turned off, leaving Louis to pray that Harry would answer his phone as he took out his own and pressed on his contact.

He shuffled around, the gravel crunching beneath his feet as he tucked one arm around his chest and held the other to his ear, the phone ringing, and ringing, and ringing until-

"Hello?" His voice sounded groggy, deep, thick with sleep and tinged with confusion. Louis let out a grateful sigh.

"Hi" He replied, suddenly at a loss for words, nerves pricking at his stomach again. should've rang beforehand. Harry might not want me. Shit. "Sorry. It's Louis"

"Oh" Louis could hear the rustling of sheets in the background. His eyes drifted up, peering at the windows. "I mean- yeah. I know. Sorry, I'm just" Harry paused and cleared his throat. "M' half asleep, sorry, I'm a bit out of it right now"

"Of course, no, I'm sorry for calling so late" Louis rushed to say, briefly shutting his eyes as he wondered how to fucking explain himself. He felt embarrassed, realising he had just shown up here in the middle of the night, expecting Harry to welcome him into his home no questions asked.

"Is everything alright?" Harry asked then with a concerned tone, breaking the silence that Louis hadn't even registered. "You sound off?"

He could just end the call there. He could call back the taxi, go home, pretend this never happened and Harry would be none the wiser. But, he couldn't, not really. He can't back out now, not after coming all this way- he can't go back home. Louis gulped, trying to dislodge the stone he felt nagging at his throat. "Could you let me in please?" He asked quietly, barely above a whisper.

It was silent again, but only for a moment. "What?"

"I'm outside your house" Louis explained vaguely, hugging his arms to his chest tighter. "I'm sorry. I know this is very last minute- and I should've called you first, I should've asked, but" he cut himself off, shaking his head. He knew he owed Harry an explanation, he deserved one, but right now all he could think about was getting inside, getting into a bed, and going to sleep. He would explain properly tomorrow. "I just, I had to leave. Just for a bit. And you're the first person I thought of, so"

Louis finally saw some movement in one of the rooms upstairs. A silhouette moving past the window- he hoped it was Harry. "It's okay. I'll be down in a minute" he mumbled, his voice soft, understanding. Louis' shoulders relaxed at once, his nerves settling.

"Thank you" Louis breathed out and ended the call, shoving his phone back into his pocket whilst he waited. It didn't take long, and soon enough the front door was opening to reveal a sleepy Harry, curls in a disarray, eyes half lidded with a lazy smile pulling at his lips. He was wearing Christmas pyjamas, the loose pants a deep red and his long sleeved shirt spotted with prints of reindeer. The sight of him had Louis' own smile making an appearance.

Harry stepped back to let him inside, about to say something when Louis dumped his bag onto the floor and closed the door behind himself, enveloping Harry into a bone crushing hug. Harry huffed on impact, stumbling back slightly in surprise before he wrapped his arms around Louis waist to return the hug. "You're freezing" he whispered, the words tickling his neck, his breath warming his skin.

"You're warm" Louis whispered back, because he was. He was warm and soft and comforting, he couldn't help himself. He had missed him, this, his presence, his kindness. Harry's smile and his voice and his embrace, he had missed all of it, only it had taken him having it again to realise. He pulled back slightly, barely able to see through the darkness of the hallway, "I'm sorry-"

Harry cut him off by placing a single finger to his lips, the soft pad barricading his apologies. He removed it again and pointed upstairs. "We've got to be quiet, at least till we get to my room. Everyone is asleep" he explained quietly, crouching down to pick up Louis' bag. "Come on" he nodded behind himself and made his way over to the staircase. Louis only nodded and followed after him.

Harry's room was dark when they first entered. Louis stood by the door awkwardly whilst Harry walked ahead and flicked on a lamp, the soft orange glow finally giving him some insight to his surroundings. It was open, spacious, not quite what he had imagined. It was a lot more simplistic than he thought it would be, the walls white with wooden details, an entire glass wall at the end of the room, shelves housing books and other random items displayed above his bed. There was a desk along the wall to the side of his bed, and opposite was some sort of music display- a piano set up, a guitar stood next to it, and a table with the record player Louis had bought him along with a collection of records. It was nice, inviting, personal- not like his own bleak room back at the manor.

"You can move, you know" Harry grinned, gesturing him over to the bed where he had set down Louis' bag. "Make yourself at home"

"Right. Sorry" Louis nodded, almost erratically as he made a few steps closer.

"And stop apologising, you don't need to" Harry took a seat on the bed, pulling up his knees to sit cross-legged.

"I feel like I do" Louis muttered, hesitantly taking a seat besides him, head ducked towards his chest as he linked his fingers in his lap. "I feel like I'm intruding, you know. This is more personal, it's your home, and I should've known better. I should've asked you first"

"I don't mind" Harry replied sternly, staring at his side profile with intent. "I was just surprised, I guess. But- I'm glad you're here, I missed you"

Louis lips twitched, his eyes softening as they fell onto Harry. "Yeah?"

Harry nodded for a second before stopping abruptly, his brows pinching together, eyes focused on his cheek. "What happened?"

Louis sighed and looked away again. He hadn't hidden it this time, didn't see the point, and he knew Harry would have questions that right now he didn't want to answer. "I'll explain tomorrow, I promise. I'd just rather not think about it right now. I came here to get away from all that"

Harry shook his head, biting at the inside of his lips. Louis couldn't tell if he looked more angry or sad. "You don't deserve any of this. No wonder you came here"

"Yeah, well. Not much I can do about it is there" Louis shrugged, grabbing his bag to find his sleep wear. "Just gotta deal with it I suppose"

"You shouldn't have to deal with it. It shouldn't happen in the first place" Harry argued, adverting his eyes as Louis began to strip. "You're always welcome here though, if you need to get away"

"Your family don't mind?" Louis questioned as he removed his shirt, uncertain. He still couldn't help but feel as if he's imposing.

"Not at all" Harry paused and let out a light chuckle, "This might sound weird to you, but Professor Filch is actually a pretty chill guy when he's not running a school"

Louis cracked a smile at that. It was weird to think he was under the headmasters roof, staying in their home without them even knowing. He wondered what his reaction would be tomorrow morning. "I don't think he likes me all that much"

"No, he does. You're just a trouble maker" Harry quipped, moving to get under the covers. "He won't mind you being here, don't worry about it"

"You're as much a trouble maker as I am" Louis pulled on a pair of sweats and moved his bag to the floor. "You sure he won't mind though? I mean, it's Boxing Day tomorrow. Don't you have plans or something?" He asked as he rounded the bed and got in besides Harry. The mattress was soft, the pillows even more so, and the sheets smelled distinctly like Harry- tobacco vanille stained into the cotton. It was strangely comforting.

"We're usually very lazy on Boxing Day. Just sit around eating the left overs whilst watching movies" Harry smiled and reached to turn off the lamp, yawning behind his hand as he turned back to face Louis. "Why worry about it when you're already here?"

He was right. Of course he was. More often than not he is. He was here now, tucked up besides Harry about to go to sleep, his own clothes dumped on the floor as if he belonged here- why worry? "You're right. I'm just not used to this, I've never stayed at someone else's house before"

"Glad I could be your first" Harry winked playfully as Louis drew the covers above his lips to hide his smile. "We'll have to clean this tomorrow" Harry's fingers drew up, just ghosting over his cheek. "It looks sore"

"It's not. Not now anyway. I tried to clean it but I think you're more skilled than me in that area" Harry's fingers brushed just outside the area before he pulled his hand back, tucking it under his chin. "Wheres the kitten then? Have you named her yet?"

Harry's eyes practically lit up at the mention, his smile widening, a dimple pressing into his cheek. "Lola. She's got into a habit of sleeping in the laundry basket. Non of us have any clue why"

"The laundry basket?" Louis laughed, pressing a hand to his mouth as he tried to stifle the sound. Harry nodded, a grin on his face. "Why Lola?"

"That was the second option for Evie. Just felt right to call her that, and she looks like a Lola too"

"You know what name a cat looks like?" Louis quirked a brow.

"Of course" Harry replied, as if it were obvious. "Think of it this way. Does she look like a Nala to you?"

"Well, no. I guess not"

"Exactly. Nala is a name for darker cats. Lola is black and white" He sounded so enthusiastic about it, speaking on it as if it were a debate. God, he'd fucking missed him.

"This sounds like Nala abuse to me" Louis smirked, raising his brows.

"Nala is a lovely cat name, just not for Lola" Harry shrugged, pursing his lips. His eyes fell then and lingered on Louis' neck. He was confused for a moment, wondering what Harry could possibly be looking at, until he reached out and pulled the necklace from beneath Louis' shirt. "You like it then?"

"Oh" Louis reached up and grasped the pendant. "Yeah, I love it. Thank you" he smiled, letting the necklace fall back to his chest. "Though, I have to say, the vase was the real deal" A burst of laughter erupted from Harry's lips, and amidst the worry of being found so soon, Louis quickly covered his mouth with the palm of his hand. "It was quite the show stopper indeed"

Harry's head shook against his grip, and once calmed he removed Louis' hand. "It's a beautiful vase. You must understand how terrible I felt when I broke it" He replied, sarcasm thick in his tone as he ran with the joke.

"Oh absolutely. There's no vases quite like it" It set them both off in another hushed fit of giggles, breathing heavily, smiles almost painful. There were no vases quite like it, only not in the positive sense. "And the key! The fucking key. Where on earth did you find it?" He whisper shouted.

"It was under the bed, I found it when I was cleaning one day. Almost hoovered the thing up" Harry explained with amusement, relaxing his head back into the pillow. "We went all that way to Poundland, got locked out and spent money on a hotel for nothing, basically"

"Just our luck" Louis sighed, the weight of the day settling in again as the mood dropped and their jokes ran dry. The room was dark save for the moonlight just brushing the side of the bed, Harry's steady breaths lingering in the air, almost in time with his own. This was the calmest Louis had felt in weeks, the happiest, at ease. He much preferred worrying about Filches reaction tomorrow morning than what mood his father would be in, and he much preferred sharing this bed with Harry than his restless nights alone at home.

"You can stay here as long as you'd like" Harry said after a while, his voice heavy with exhaustion, struggling to keep his eyes open. It sounded more like a reminder, if anything. Or, like he wanted Louis to stay as long as possible.

"I'll stay as long as you'll have me" Louis replied, finally letting his eyes fall shut.

"Forever?"

Louis nodded into the pillow, consciousness drifting away. "Whatever you'd like"

————————————
Author notes:

This chapter was actually really difficult to write. It went in a complete different direction to what I had originally planned, due to the fact that the home scenes took up a lot more of this chapter than I had imagined, so I'm sorry if there isn't as much H+L content as you may have been hoping for.

What I initially planned will be in the next chapter though, and it will be focused on Louis at Harry's house, which I'm sure you'll all enjoy. I'm actually excited to write it ahah.

Just thought I'd add on here as well that there's a lot more going on about this fic outside of wattpad that you might be interested in. Some of you might know I have a Twitter account (@ TPWLarry) but now there is also a pressure account over there that one of my readers created (@ Pressurebookfan) they do updates and also create trailers for specific chapters, so I'd suggest you go give it a follow if you haven't already! There's also a pressure bot account that post quotes from the fic! (@ BotPressure)

Thank you guys for all the support, it means the world to me and I'm so glad you are enjoying this so far. Please leave your opinions and don't forget to vote!

Love you all xxx