tired tired sea

29/05/19 Darling, Dearest, I’m fighting for your kind of quiet. x H

At some point, he indulges himself and angles his mug towards the window to grab a picture of it with the sunrise in the background, shamelessly captioning it with lyrics from one of Harry’s songs before posting it.

His cheeks are red, like maybe he’s embarrassed, though Louis suspects it could be from the cold. It’s been relatively sunny the past week, miraculously, so they’ve been blessed with warmer weather than expected, but the wind is biting as ever, especially on top of the cliffs.

This would be where Louis kindly pushes, teases, coaxes the truth out of him, where Louis uses both charm and wit to make his guest at ease and unravel the whole thing from him expertly.

Louis rolls his eyes with fondness, but obliges him straight away, sending another candy straight into his mouth. “What orange?” Harry laughs. “Just an orange I found in the lift and ate during the show.

I think about the way you look at me and their inquisitive gaze can’t touch me. It makes him feel small and powerful at the same time, and he’s not sure how Harry can achieve such prowess with only a few scribbled words.

As they work, Harry is quiet in a different way, looking a bit emotionally drained, but not quite as devastated as before.

Quickly enough, they’re both sprawled on the sand together, the day beautiful despite the cold and Louis gets Harry to eat at least a small part of his birthday cake, humming happy birthday to him under his breath while Harry laughs and brushes crumbs off his face.

Just like Louis, Harry is lost in thought, frozen at the top of the stairs with seemingly no intentions to move towards the bench at all.

Louis lets him have a moment, staring through the glass panels at the breathtaking view of the cliffs before he carefully presses his knuckles into Harry’s back to encourage him to move forward into the room.

Shouldn’t be that bad.” Harry hums, still playing with Louis’ hair. “Water is cleansing,” he says, mostly to himself. “You did say that,” Louis agrees solemnly. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to go out in the rain a bit,” he says.

They spend the afternoon baking a cake together that Harry insists has to be pink, laughing in the kitchen as they listen to Christmas music, making a proper mess of the whole place.

Automatically, he snuggles forward, his body curling even closer into Harry’s, his nose burying itself in the curls at the nape of his neck.

He sighs, a long, tired exhale that comes from the depths of his body. “You’re right. I’m really sad right now,” he admits, voice cracking on the admission. “But I came here to distract myself and stop thinking about it.

Then, he puts it back on the closest shelf. “There’s absolutely no order in here, so don’t worry about putting stuff back where it belongs. Cliff especially,” Louis jokes, pointing at his sleeping, peaceful dog. “Oh!

Harry’s shoulders permanently hunched forward, both hands buried into the deep pockets of his oversized jacket.

Louis lets him have a moment, staring through the glass panels at the breathtaking view of the cliffs before he carefully presses his knuckles into Harry’s back to encourage him to move forward into the room.

Or rather, Harry tiptoes around the lighthouse, a bit skittish now that he’s shed his skin. There’s a mixture of relief and worry threaded into everything he does and all Louis wants is to prove he’s worthy of the trust that’s been placed in him.

Louis knows the ocean surrounds them though, can hear the waves through the windows; the angry wind a reminder of how small they are. Somehow, the darkness feels embracing rather than scary, a warm blanket that’s familiar and comforting.

He gives no indication as to where he’s been, whether he went down the cliffside and walked along the beach, or if he took some time to visit the village, or even to walk further up north towards the opposite tip of the island.

Harry gets out of the observatory with a serious look on his face, reminding Louis he’s probably not going to be the only missing Harry when he leaves. “You okay?” Louis asks when Harry has been quiet a little too long as they make their way back to the lighthouse.