A/N: I dedicate this to bluelarries because you are always commenting and that's really nice:)

The days flew by . The day of the inevitable end was moving closer like a huge dark thundercloud. Harry dreaded the day their arrangement would be over. With every morning he woke up the chunk weighting heavily in the pit of his stomach grew bigger, heavier.

They didn't talk about it.

Instead, they were acting like proper boyfriends. Complete with all the stolen kisses, small gifts, affection, dates and intimacy.

Currently, Harry was stepping into a bar in a side street of Piazza San Francesco D'Assisi. It was a rather big bar, not like the one Harry and Louis liked to go. Harry guessed it was especially made for tourists, having typical Italian paintings grace the walls and ranks of ivy growing from wooden platforms hanging off the walls. 

That wasn't what Harry came here for though.

It wasn't hard to spot Louis. He naturally shone out against everyone else, at least in Harry's eyes. But of course, everyone who didn't see it was just blind.

Louis was behind the counter, smiling at a man with a younger woman by his side, probably getting their order. Harry watched as Louis turned around, fiddling around with the machines for drinks and whatever else was provided in this establishment. 

Harry carefully approached and crouched in front of the counter, smirking triumphantly. There was no way Louis could see him now. The pair that Harry had watched ordering something from Louis was looking down at him strangely, but Harry put a finger over his lips, signalizing them to stay quiet about him. Then he all but crawled past them and along the counter until he got to the end. He peered around the corner carefully, spotting two pairs of legs. 

Harry didn't have to think to know that the legs that ended with a pair of Toms were Louis'. The other pair of shoes was black goth style. Interesting, Harry thought. 

He let his eyes trail up Louis' legs because that was more important at the moment. Smiling, he watched Louis doing his job, mixing a drink, unbeknownst of Harry's presence. 

His smile fell when his eyes caught the sight of Louis' co-worker, a young dark haired woman, staring down on him with a similar weirded out expression as the pair in front of the counter had. Harry tried to muster up a reassuring smile and put a finger to his lips again to convey for her to be quiet. 

Suddenly, Louis' voice came from behind the woman, "Amy,  potresti-... Che cosa stai-", He cut himself off apruptly, "Harry?" After a moment of perplexity... he started laughing hysterically. "Harry, what are you doing down there?"

Harry stood up awkwardly, dusting off the imaginary dust from his trousers, "I... uuh, I wanted to surprise you?"

Meanwhile Louis was bend over, holding onto the counter to prevent himself from falling over from laughing so hard. 

Harry folded his arms and pouted, "That's not funny. Stop embarrassing me."

"So- Sorry." Louis wheezed out between his laughter. Amy had started to chime in, chuckling along while Harry was trying his hardest not to join, which was hard since Louis laugh was extremely contagious. 

But Harry really had a problem with making a face that did not reflect his feelings, in other words, he was an awful actor, wearing his heart on his sleeve. Harry swore to himself that he would never visit Louis at work again.  

They all sobered up quickly when an older looking woman with too much make up in her face snapped, "It's great that you are having fun but we would like to order anytime today so it would be nice if you did your job, please and thank you."

Louis rolled his eyes, "Coming." He leaned up to peck Harry's lips once, "Sorry babe." Then he turned back to serve another costumer. Amy had already taken the slightly unfriendly woman. Harry decided to sit on a bar stool and watch Louis. 

Once the queue, that had developed during their laughing fit, dissolved Amy turned to Louis, "Go Louis, I've got this." She winked at Louis and shot a smirk to Harry. The latter noticed an accent, but it wasn't Italian. Harry couldn't tell which one from the short sentence though.

Louis frowned, "Are you sure? I don't mind, really. Harry's really having fun watching me." He smirked at him. Harry's heartbeat picked up at the darkening of his eyes. It made him squirm and ignite something in his gut. 

Amy rolled her eyes, "Yeah, go with your boy before you start to eye fuck in this bar."

"We're not-..."

Amy held up her hand, successfully interrupting Harry's protests, "Just go. Have fun." Louis hesitated, but Amy barked, "Go!"

Louis flinched but obliged, rounding the counter and taking Harry's hand. "Thanks, Amy." She just waved them off and prepared another drink.

Leaving the bar, Harry asked, "She's not Italian, is she? She's like-..."

"Scottish." Louis finished, "She's from Scotland. Been here for about five years. Her last name was actually MacDonald." Louis laughed, "So stereotypical Scottish."

"Her last name was MacDonald?" Harry wondered.

"Oh, she got married. To an Italian street artist. Pretty funny story." Louis explained.

Harry couldn't help but transfer her story to their own situation. He smiled. Getting married to Louis... Louis Styles. Sounds good. Feels good:)

"You're a strange one, Styles." Louis interrupted his thoughts.

"What?" Harry frowned, confused what Louis was referring to.

"You always start to grin stupidly at random moments." Louis elaborated.

"I do not." Harry protested.

"You do." Louis laughed brightly, "Don't worry, it's cute."

Harry blushed.

°^°^°^°^°^°^°^°

Harry stirred awake. But it wasn't a nice, slow awaking where he slowly drifted from a nice dream in dreamland to the reality that was his warm bed.

Instead, he noticed fairly quickly how cold it was and how he was shivering. He sat up abruptly, grabbing the blanket that was somehow kicked onto the floor and laid back down again, frowning at the empty space beside him. 

He remembered last night fairly clearly. And he was pretty sure it had ended with himself draped over Louis' naked body. 

They had done it in Harry's hotel room in order to not bother Louis' neighbours. The elder lady that had teased them for the noise the first time hadn't complained about it the time they did it while being drunk but they had agreed not to do it at Louis' again, out of respect for the neighbours and also out of embarrassment.

Harry felt something rustling beneath the ear that laid on the pillow. He lifted his head and found a post it which Louis probably had stuck onto his forehead.

I went out to play clarinet for a bit. You really sleep like a stone... Anyways, you can come to our spot if you feel like seeing me again:) 

'If you feel like seeing me again'? Like Harry ever not felt like seeing Louis. 

So it hadn't been the last time he visited Louis at his work again last time, although granted, he would visit him at his other work this time.

Noticing how it was already past eleven o'clock, he hurried to get himself ready for the day before making his way to 'their spot', how Louis had called it.

When he arrived, Louis was talking to a middle aged man in black suit carrying a violin case on his back. Louis smiled when he noticed him, stopping in the middle of whatever he was saying. Harry smiled back softly.

The man cleared his throat and said something in Italian that Harry didn't understand. Louis averted his eyes from Harry to smile at the man, probably bidding farewell because the man retreated with a polite smile.

"So, finally got out of bed, huh?" Louis teased.

Harry smirked, "Well, last night was the best kind of exhausting." Louis rolled his eyes but didn't disagree. "So, who was that violinist?"

Louis looked alerted, "Don't ever call him a violinist. He plays viola, not violin."

Harry frowned, "What's the difference?"

"Oh, there's a huge difference. The viola doesn't have the high A string but instead it had the deeper C-string. They're not as squeaky." Louis explained, "Or at least that's what he and my childhood friend who was a passionate viola player told me."

"Umm... okay, but, except for the string thing there is no difference." Harry cleared up. Like they had done many times, Louis took apart his clarinet and packed it before they wandered off to a random part of the city.

"Well," Louis contributed, "I think violin and viola are like siblings. They are similar but that doesn't mean they want to be. They often pick different interests and hobbies and stuff to proof that they distinguish from each other, know what I mean?" 

Harry nodded, "Yeah, I think so."

"Also," Louis continued, "Violins kind of stole the solo instrument status from violas. Violas were the first solo instruments, people just liked hearing the high squeaky sounds, I guess." He laughed, "I guess I just biased. But the point is, violas are now the joke in the orchestra, like they are the blondes of the orchestra. But they stand up for being a viola, at least those I know."

"Why aren't you playing in an orchestra?" Harry asked. The thought had never crossed his mind but now that it had it really got him puzzled.

"Oh, I was. That's how I got to know Verona in the first place actually."

"Really? Why aren't you anymore then?"

Louis sighed. Harry wasn't sure if it was nostalgic or pained or something entirely different. "Well, I umm... You know, being a musician is hard. You have to be ready to go anywhere you get a job. And I, well, I guess I got a bit... overconfident with all the support I was getting, from my family, my friends, my clarinet teacher. So I tried apply for the London Philharmonics. And well, I wasn't taken. But I ended up getting into the orchestra here in Verona. It was smaller than the big Philharmonics but I ended up loving it."

"Okay, then why aren't you in this orchestra still?" Harry asked intrigued.

Louis laughed, "Patience, young Harold. I'm getting to it."

"Okay, go on."

"Well, okay. But I have to warn you. It's gonna get a bit sad. And when I get to that part don't try to interrupt to tell me what an uniquely wonderful person I am."

Harry laughed, "I can't promise anything."

Louis rolled his eyes, grinning, before dropping it and went on in a slightly more serious tone, "So, after a few month, I think... three or something, the London Philharmonics called me back and, I mean, it was amazing. I got to be closer to home and to Aiden and my family and play in one of the biggest fucking orchestras in the world." Louis sighed, this time Harry knew it was resigned.

"Was Aiden your boyfriend?" Harry asked carefully.

Louis tried to smile but it looked more like a grimace, "Fiancé."

"Oh." Harry breathed out.

"Yeah, anyways. When I got home I found out Aiden was basically living a double life. On the phone he'd say he loved me and at home he told his assistance he loved her. And it wasn't like I surprised him and walked in on them or something. I just, it was different from last time I'd seen him. So I spent much time with my sisters and practicing for the new orchestra. At the same time I tried to figure out what was going wrong with me and Aiden, but he never said anything." Louis paused to let out a humorous laugh. "It went on like this about two month. On the exterior everything seemed fine but..." Louis paused.

He was silent for about two minutes, staring at the distance like he was lost in his own head. "But what?" Harry asked softly, trying to bring him back.

Louis smiled sadly, "But on the inside, I didn't feel as happy as I was supposed to feel, I mean, my career was going great and I was engaged. I mean, it should have been great, shouldn't it?" Louis paused again to gather his thoughts. "So I took short trip back to Verona, trying to figure out what it was that made me so happy over here. But Aiden, the fucking coward, took that opportunity to break up with me over the phone. Because he couldn't have done it while he was looking into my eyes, let alone while I was in the country."

"What an asshole." Harry let slip.

Louis laughed, "He is, yeah. But he was an asshole I was ready to marry. So I flew back to talk to him." The laugh he let out this time was shaken, "But he told me he was happier with Sabrina, that he hasn't been that happy with me for a long time, that he was sorry but he was sure that I would find someone else to replace him with."

"Replace him?" Harry shook his head, "That's normally not how-"

"Yeah, I know. Just wait it up. It's gonna get worse."

"Oh." Harry frowned.

"Okay, so I was kind of heartbroken so it was hard for me to concentrate. And I messed up in the Philharmonics more times than I can count. And I kind of get that they had to yell at me for that. They are the London Philharmonics, they didn't make mistakes like that. But the concert master snapped at me that I had to get my shit together," He paused, "That I was replaceable."

"Oh, Louis." Harry breathed, "You're no-"

Louis slapped a hand over Harry's mouth, "What did I tell you? Don't interrupt to tell me how amazing I am. I'm fine. It just got to me at that time with all that," He took his hand off Harry's face and flailed his arms around, "Aiden situation." 

Harry nodded, "Okay."

"I also realized at that time what it was that I missed in Verona. I realized that I didn't want a successful career in big orchestras. I was so much more comfortable in this small orchestra where we could joke around and cared about each others feelings and reassured each other that it wasn't the end of the world if one of us made a mistake."

Harry nodded, "Okay, I get that. But why aren't you in the orchestra over here again then?"

Louis shrugged, "I met the two clarinetists before I got to make an application. They are amazing persons and I didn't want to take away their jobs. And the city doesn't have enough budget to pay too many musicians. The director knows I'm always here so I'll get in as soon as one of them resigns for some reason."

"Okay, but why aren't you looking for another small orchestra in another semi-small city?" Harry wondered.

Louis smiled softly, "Verona is special. When I got back here everyone was inviting me and telling me how they were happy that I was back and this new environment made it so much easier to let go of Aiden and built up a new life that wasn't based on money and consumption. I knew that even if I got bankrupt, there were people who were willing to help me out. Also, unlike London, you don't go through the streets as an anonymous person. You smile at strangers and get to know people from all over the world who are visiting Verona, Shakespeare's city of love."

"This is poetic." Harry said after he was sure Louis was done, "You should be song writer."

Louis grinned. There was a minute of them walking in silence, lost in their own thoughts. Harry didn't even know when they started holding hands but he smiled when he realized that they were.

"You know," Louis interrupted the silence, "I do write songs, just, for the clarinet and without lyrics."

"Really? Can you show me?"

^v^v^

They ended up in Louis flat, with Louis playing his songs from music paper that he had scrawled on. Harry didn't  comprehend anything but he smiled happily because Louis was playing beautifully. And yeah, Harry had already known that, but this time it was only for Harry to hear. No one else. He was playing for Harry. It made butterflies erupt in his stomach.

"That's so cool," Harry said when Louis was done, "Why aren't you sending this to companies and sell it. Or you could write down how you always play like-  like this one time you played Castaway by 5 Seconds of Summer. I'm sure so many people would like to play these modern music on their classical instruments. That would be so cool."

Louis laughed, "Harry, it isn't that easy. Those songs belong to someone else. I'd have to get a licence first."

"So? You could at least try." Harry encouraged. He grew a bit smug when he noticed Louis' cheeks getting pink. Harry was making Louis Tomlinson blush.

Louis shrugged, "Maybe. Do you want to try?" He held his clarinet out to Harry.

"Umm... are you sure?"

Louis rolled his eyes, "Why would I ask if I wasn't?"

Harry nodded and took the instrument carefully. Louis instructed him how to hold it and where to put his fingers. "And try to not bite the platelet through. Those are expensive. Now try to blow into it."

"But there isn't a hole." Harry frowned.

"Yeah, I mean, more like, puff, like that." He demonstrated with his lips.

Harry tried but he didn't get any kind of tone out. He frowned, "How the fuck do you do that?" 

Louis laughed, "Not like that, more like," He tried to show how he meant, but Harry just didn't get it.

After at least six more tries Harry sighed, "I could blow something else." He suggested with an innocent smile... and Louis bursted out laughing.

They ended up rolling around, laughing at everything for no particular reason.

And if Harry ended up really blowing something else, no one had to know.                                

*