The man on the TV shouts something into his microphone before the contestants start running around some obstacles with an egg on the spoon they’re holding in their hands.

“This is boring”, Harry states, his head on my chest as he carelessly scrolls through Instagram without even paying attention to the screen, “And the blonde guy is horribly annoying.”

I shrug, nodding. “Kinda. But I don’t know what else to watch. Mum’s home in half an hour anyways and then we’ll have dinner. So you’ll have to bare with me for like thirty minutes more.”

He rolls his eyes a little but nods softly, his hair tickling my arm. “Sure. Anything for you.” He sticks his tongue out a little and blows me a kiss, making me laugh.

“You suck.” I ruffle through his curls, burying my hand between soft strands of hair as I watch the last two persons with eggs on their spoons running over the finishing line, the guy shouting into the microphone way too loudly once again.

“Shut up”, Harry says softly, closing his eyes as he lays his phone down on the couch and snuggles closer, arms wrapping around my waist tightly.

We watch in silence for the next few minutes and I try to ignore the fact that the boy I disliked so much at the start of summer makes my skin tingle whenever he gets close to me but will be leaving tomorrow.

His mum will be back the day after tomorrow, on Sunday, the last day of holidays and he wants to spend the last night in his home and help his grandma clean and tidy up. I sigh heavily, pushing the thought somewhere to the back of my head.

Sure, we might be friends now but at the same time, I have no idea what we are and if he likes me enough to be hanging out with me also after he doesn’t live here anymore. He does have other friends after all and his home is more than a twenty-minute ride away from mine. Maybe he doesn’t see me as more than his friend for the summer.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be this close to Harry, who makes me feel feelings like this again and it makes my heart ache a little bit.

“Harry?”, I ask quietly, removing my hand from his hair so he can tilt his head and look up at me, eyebrows risen just a little as he waits for me to continue talking.

I don’t remember what I wanted to say the moment I look at him because all I can think about that the small bun on top of his head looks absolutely adorable and that I want to kiss him until I forget everything.

So, I do that, kinda. I don’t forget about everything but I pull him in by his neck until his lips are on mine and kiss him softly, arms wrapping around his upper body carefully.

I don’t know for how long we kiss but I seem to forget about enough that I don’t remember Mum will be here any second. I also don’t hear her opening the door because the moment she throws her keys onto the counter, I’m still kissing Harry.

I try pushing him away a little because my mum is not supposed to see me kissing Harry. Mum is not supposed to catch me snogging anyone, really. It’s unnecessary, anyways. It’s not like I’ll introduce Harry as my boyfriend soon. Not that I’d want that. But he’s moving, anyways.

The moment she looks into the living room, we’re not kissing anymore, at least. But Harry is still sitting way too close to me and his hair looks a fucking mess and if Mum isn’t completely oblivious, she will definitely notice something was going on.

“Hi, boys”, she says, her eyes flickering between us, “Um, I’d make dinner now. You don’t have to help, you can continue, um, watching your show.” She gestures towards the TV, smiling, “But if you want to. I could use some help with chopping the vegetables."

“I was about to shower, actually”, Harry says, getting up quickly, “So, I’ll load the dishwasher after dinner, if that’s okay.”

“Louis, you’ll help me then?” Mum asks, nodding towards Hardy with a smile on her face. She heads back to the kitchen before I can reply and Hardy hurries upstairs so that I’m left alone in the living room, staring at the wall behind the TV.

I head to the kitchen after having stared at the screen for a little longer. Maybe she didn’t even notice and maybe she won’t want to talk to me about anything. Hopefully. I’ve never liked talking to mum about boyfriends and crushes and stuff.

“Hi, darling”, Mum says when I enter the kitchen, pulling me in for a hug with the hand she isn’t holding the knife in. She kisses the top of my head, continuing to chop the zucchini, “Had a good day?”

“Nothing special, really”, I say, “Just laid around and watched some TV, that’s all. Went for a run in the morning though. You? How was work?”

“Just fine”, she says, “Happy about the long weekend now, obviously.” She hands me a paprika and I start cutting it as she puts a pot of water down on the stove for it to start boiling.

We work in silence for a bit and I’m happy to have Mum home again. She’s been so busy with work those holidays and I’m happy to be able to see her more the weekend.

“So”, she starts after some time and I already know what’s about to come, “How is everything with Harry, then? Are you guys friends, or-?” She stops mid-sentence, definitely implying something but I ignore it.

“No”, I’m quick to say, “Not really, I guess. I don’t know. Like, it was cool to chill for the summer, you know. He’s alright. I just don’t think we’ll hang out much after he heads back home.” Or at least, that’s what I’m telling myself. I don’t want to be disappointed when he doesn’t want to hang out. I don’t want to be disappointed when he’ll prefer his childhood friends at home over some random boy he lived at during summer

“Alright, then”, Mum says, “So I saw nothing, then?” I turn to toss the cut paprika pieces into the pan with the hot oil, avoiding to look at her, not answering.

“You know, you can talk to me about stuff. I’m alright with you having boyfriends. We’ve had that conversation, you still know that, right? If you and Harry, if you two- then it’s not like you have to hide anything from me, okay?”

“No”, I say, scoffing, “This is not about me being gay, Mum”, I say and it might be the first time I’ve said that out loud to her because I’ve always kept the option of having a girlfriend open as well, “Me and Harry just aren’t a thing. It’s not like I like him. It was cool having him here for the summer but that’s about it, you know? Not like I’ll miss him much or, I don’t know.”

I won’t miss him much. I won’t. I will not in any case miss Harry. I don’t like Harry in that way and he doesn’t either and that’s okay, he’s not even sad about leaving. He’s said many times that he can’t wait to see his mum again and that’s okay. He won’t miss me, I won’t either.

“Okay, hun”, Mum says, “Set the table for me, then?” She smiles softly and I’ve never appreciated her not asking any more questions more. If I had to think about Harry any longer, I might as well start crying so I happily start setting the table.

And for like thirty seconds, I don’t think about Harry, until he walks into the kitchen, hair wet and falling into his forehead beautifully perfect, eyes directed at the floor. He’s wearing his green hoodie with his pyjama pants and he looks so goddamn pretty that I have to tear my eyes away from him.

“Thank you for cooking”, Harry says, a smile directed towards my mother and sits down on his chair, starting to fill our plates with pasta 

“Oh, don’t worry about that”, Mum says, “Never been big of a chef, you know? But I do better than my son, I suppose.” She smiles at me and I roll my eyes as I smile back, sitting down next to Mum and opposite to Harry.

I wait for him to react to what Mum said, tease me about my cooking skills, maybe, but he’s currently chewing on some pasta so I just start eating as well, listening to Mum telling us about some co-worker she is always annoyed by.

When we’re done eating, Harry starts doing the dishes and I offer to help but he declines, saying he wants to at least do that because he didn’t help cooking. I don’t know why he’s always so goddamn kind but it makes it even harder not to kiss him again right there on the spot.

I head upstairs after having talked to Mum in the living room until she’s tired and wants to go to bed. Harry walked upstairs after he was done with the dishes, probably not wanting to interrupt. He’s always been a bit quieter when Mum was around. I feel like he thinks he owes her something.

I walk into my room, expecting Harry on my bed because Harry sleeps at mine, always. It’s been like this for weeks now. I’m used to long legs kicking me and someone breathing against my skin softly and I’m used to arms wrapping around my torso by now.

“Harry?”, I ask as if he was hiding under the bed, or something, then turn to see the bathroom door open but the door to Harry’s room closed. He’s probably packing or using Dad’s computer.

I open the door, finding Harry sitting on the couch, staring at the ceiling. He looks sad or maybe angry or just thoughtful but definitely not happy.

“Harry?”, I ask softly, just to make sure he heard me come in but he doesn’t even turn his head to look at me so I take a step closer, crouching down next to the couch. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yep”, he says, “I’m fine, yeah. I’m tired though, so-“ He shrugs, sliding down on the mattress until he’s nearly lying down completely.

“You don’t wanna sleep at mine?”, I ask quietly, feeling heavy. I was right. As soon as he’ll move out, he won’t give a shit about me anymore. He has other friends at home. He doesn’t like me and he is certainly not in love with me.

“I’m good. Don’t want to annoy you for another night. I know I’m an annoying person to sleep next to.” He forces a small smile, nodding at a question I didn’t ask.

“No”, I quickly say, shaking my head, “No, Harry, you’re not. If it’s what I said about you always waking me up then I’m sorry, I thought it was clear that it’s a joke, really, Harry.” I wait for him to nod, get out of this stupid bed that’s a couch or maybe lean over and peck my lips but he doesn’t.

“Louis”, he says, “It was cool being here for the summer, was it not? But that’s about it. I’m going back home tomorrow.” His voice is cold and I have no idea why he’d say things like that but it feels a little like someone just stabbed me in the chest really badly.

“I-“, I start, blinking confusedly, “Yes. You’re right, you’ll go back home tomorrow, right. I’m happy for you. Glad you’ll be with your mum and friends. It, yeah, you’re right.” I force a smile, trying to hold back a tear.

“Goodnight, then”, I say as I close the door behind him, not waiting for an answer of his. The little “Sleep well”, I whisper when the door is closed already isn’t heard by him anymore and I hope the quiet crying into my pillow isn’t either.

~~~

<3