12 June 2006
The room is dark, curtains drawn tight, keeping the wandering rays of the streetlight out. The bed is soft, a mattress that has become very familiar over the past four years. The heat trapped under the duvet isn’t too hot, just warm enough to give the feeling of bliss and safety.
The enveloping darkness of this particular bedroom felt scary in the beginning, but now it has become an ever-present daily comfort. The walls covered in endearing photographs, quirky sketches, and inspiring posters have evolved into something integral to the space rather than something intimidating. And even the body next to his own was scary at first, but now it’s something needed.
Harry Styles was very intimidating and scary when Louis Tomlinson first met him. Wild curls and piercing green eyes captured Louis’ attention from the first moment. Harry knew what he wanted to do with his life, and made sure everyone around him knew it too. He was talented, charming, intelligent, but down to earth, kind, and compassionate. Harry was always unapologetically himself, which is something Louis admired when they first met and still admires. It was a dangerous combination for young Louis and when that crazy haired boy sat next to him on the first day, smiled and said hi with a dimple cratering his cheek, Louis knew he was doomed.
Today was a wild day and it baffles Louis’ mind that they will be going to university in the fall. School is finally over for the summer and Louis intends to make the most out of the sun and blue skies with his favorite boy by his side.
Louis cuddles in closer to his boyfriend. The clock says it is very early in the morning and Louis knows he should be tired from his and Harry’s celebratory bedroom activities, but he simply can not fall asleep. His mind is a whirlwind of thought, but he tries to avoid thinking of the one obvious thing that’s keeping him awake. There’s no way he wants to think of that now , not in this pure moment.
When Louis wakes up in the morning, he’s alone in Harry’s bed.
In the beginning, Louis would panic when he woke up to an empty bed, but the longer they were together, Louis started picking up on Harry’s morning habits. He wakes up early, all thanks to his own internal alarm clock, which is a blessing on school days, but absolute hell on the weekends. Louis can’t stand the thought of waking up early, but Harry thrives off the creativity that floods his mind in the morning. Louis often wakes up to find pencils and sketchbooks covering Harry’s side of the bed, and today is no different.
Louis stretches underneath the covers, hands grasping at the headboard and pointed toes not quite reaching the end of the bed. He sits up and arranges himself into a comfortable sitting position, making sure the duvet is piled around his bare lower half.
Beautiful white sunlight is filtering in through the window, the curtains now pulled away to reveal the glass. The songs of the birds from outside are muffled, but add to the morning ambiance nonetheless.
Louis inspects the new sketches on the bed next to him. From the look of them, Harry must have been in an incredible mood when he woke up.
All of the sketches are of impeccable dresses, ranging from evening gowns to daytime skater dresses. The looks are inspired, beautiful, completely artistic and gorgeously designed. Harry used colored pencils to embellish the designs, which is rare; he prefers to sketch in black and white. Whatever dream Harry had, or whatever good news he received when he woke up, must have been truly amazing.
Louis is tracing his fingertips lightly over a new sketch Harry left of a ball gown. It’s Louis’ favorite out of this new batch. Harry’s drawn it in blue and green color pencils. The shape, the flow, the energy that the concept of this garment gives off is completely overwhelming and Louis can’t pull his eyes off of it, in awe of its beauty.
The sound of someone clearing their throat from the doorway reaches Louis, who finally tears his eyes away from the sketch to look up at his boyfriend. Louis can automatically tell he’s in a good mood. There’s a trace of a smile on his lips, his cheeks are colored, his fingers are twisting and twirling around themselves. Whatever Harry says next, Louis knows it’s going to be good.
“I’m going to New York,” Harry whispers, just loud enough for Louis to hear.
Louis can’t process the words fast enough. Suddenly his whole world is imploding. He doesn’t understand. Louis thought Harry was about to say something spectacular, amazing, and grand. The body language indicated the polar opposite of the tiny, quiet, small statement that came out of Harry’s mouth. He finally locks eyes with Harry and that’s when he sees it all.
Despite the excitement that the rest of Harry’s features are drowning in, his eyes look sad. Louis is able to detect hints of fear, sadness, and exhaustion hiding within Harry’s pupils. That’s when it hits Louis. Harry’s going to New York. The one thing Louis has avoided thinking about is now a reality.
“I was accepted into Parsons. I’m going to New York for uni. I’m so sorry, Lou.”
And yeah, Louis is sorry too.
10 Years Later
6 December 2016
Louis dramatically flops down onto the sofa in his studio, sighing loudly. He’s physically, emotionally, and mentally drained. He’s already been on the phone with his mum, all six of his siblings, Liam and Niall, and some other important business friends. James was beyond thrilled to hear Louis’ good news, making him promise that the Late Late Show would be the first talk show Louis would visit after his anticipated win. Steve was even more enthusiastic, begging to collaborate with Louis again soon.
Louis loves his friends and their support, but it’s truly exhausting to be congratulated over and over again. There’s only so many times someone can answer the question “How does it feel to be nominated for your first Grammy?” before you go insane.
And Louis guesses it’s a bit ironic that the answer to the question that everyone is asking is that it feels insane.
Never in a million years would Louis Tomlinson have thought that he would be nominated for Song of the Year.
His own song, that he wrote, up for a Grammy Award. Not to brag, but Louis’ songs have won a bunch of awards throughout his many years of songwriting now, but none of them truly honor him as a songwriter and composer as much as this Grammy would. It’s almost a little too much to think about.
Louis’ life has been one success after another, it seems. After taking up songwriting during the summer before he started university in London, he finally felt like he found himself. Instead of entering school with his path undecided, like he originally thought he would, Louis hopped on the path of a music degree.
Many of Louis’ professors were very confused with his career path. He only knew a little bit of piano and his first few songs weren’t his best creations. But if Louis Tomlinson was anything, he was disciplined and committed. All of his energy during his first year of university was funneled into learning guitar, some drums, and relearning piano. He studied composition and music theory and became the most talented and successful student in his program.
But all this hard work dug Louis in a hole he couldn’t climb out of. He closed himself off, rarely contacted his family, didn’t attempt to make new friends or even try to stay in touch with Niall or Liam, who were even at the same university as him. Louis was on a downward slope, not steep enough for himself to notice, but slippery enough for the others around him to see.
Louis was at a point where he was able to turn out more songs a week than there were days, but it was not without price. He wasn’t eating or sleeping, and there were multiple occurrences where some student would find Louis’ exhausted body slumped over a piano in one of the student practice studios in the morning. The turning point for Louis came from Niall and Liam who decided to step in and finally help him.
Louis has trouble recalling exactly what Niall and Liam did to help him, but he does know without their helpful push in the right direction, he never would have talked to the school’s counseling center. He’s forever grateful for their friendship and support. Louis was able to pursue his degree in a healthier way and the music he wrote grew and increased in quality as did he.
His third year at university was when someone bought one of his songs. Louis was over the moon that someone would want something he penned himself; his own song, his own creation. It continued to receive radio play and from there the successes kept rolling in.
Now Louis owns his own small recording studio in Central London where he’s able to write and create more hits than ever before. His songs cover every genre and Louis Tomlinson is one of the most well-known songwriters around the world.
Louis is so thankful for where he is in life. He may have a had a rocky start before and during his first year at university, but he was able to recover. However, one thing Louis has promised himself is that he will never revisit the songs he wrote back then. The three leatherbound journals hidden in a shoebox in his closet hold memories of emotions, places, and memories of a specific forgotten person, all too painful to relive.
The next morning, Louis is still carrying the excitement of his Grammy nomination and his normal grumpy morning mood is nowhere to be seen. On his way to the studio, he decides to stop and grab tea for himself and Niall. Louis knows Niall will be pleased that Louis finally thought of him for once, but Louis knows that without Niall’s help he might have never have gotten this nomination. Niall becoming Louis’ manager has to be one of the best things that has ever happened to him, and not just because he knows the music business like the back of his hand, but also because he’s Louis’ best friend.
Louis stuffs his face into the scarf around his neck, the cold December air too chilly for his liking. He internally scolds himself for not wearing gloves this morning, fingertips frozen from clutching the cups of tea. The streets of London are busy this Wednesday morning, people bumping into Louis as they rush around the city streets.
Louis is relieved to finally reach the space where his studio lives. He pushes his way through the front door to find the waiting room area deserted. Louis places the teas on the front desk and listens closely.
“Congratulations,” Niall laughs, his loud, very Irish voice audible from the back room. “I’m so happy for you. I’ll have to stop by sometime, let me know.”
“Hey, Ni!” Louis calls out, wanting to alert Niall of his presence. He sheds himself of his winter attire, hanging his coat and scarf up on the pegs by the door.
“Listen mate, I gotta go.” He pauses, probably listening to whoever is on the other side of the conversation.
“Yeah, it’s ‘im,” Niall whispers, which makes Louis even more curious now. “I’m proud of ya, though. See you soon.”
Louis enters the recording and finds Niall sitting in one of the two spinny office chairs that accompany the mixing console. His feet are propped up on the coffee table that separates the sofa from the machinery. Louis places both teas on the coffee table, pushing one towards Niall, and sits back on the sofa.
The sofa is one of Louis’ favorite things about his studio; it’s where he spends most of his free time and his busy time. He prefers writing his songs here if no one’s recording, the soft fabric of the sofa under his bum, his barefeet, propped up on the coffee table, swinging back and forth to the beat in his head. The navy walls are comforting and reassuring, the many guitars hanging on the wall are inspiring. The rug that covers the majority of the studio’s floor is a gift from his mom, a reminder that no matter how far away she is, she will always support Louis and his craft.
Louis loves songwriting because it’s not a lonely career. He’s always collaborating with other artists, writers, singers. He has Niall to keep him and all his business stuff in order and industry friends are always reaching out to him.
“So who was that on the phone?” Louis asks Niall, raising his eyebrow curiously.
Niall hesitates for a split second, but Louis is fast enough to catch it. “Just a mate. Moved back to London. Catching up with ‘em.” Louis nods slowly, suspicious.
“Anyway,” he starts, changing the subject, “have you heard back from Shawn yet? I think I have a tune he’ll like and I want to work with him on it, get his input. Treat You Better was a big hit.”
26 December 2016
“Have you seen his place yet?”
“Nah. Planning on meeting up this weekend though.”
Louis strides into his living room, interrupting Liam and Niall’s whispered conversation. “What’re we talking ‘bout here, lads? Hm?” He inserts his body in between his friends on the couch, wiggling his butt into the cushion to get comfortable. “Well? Don’t get all quiet on me now, you chatterboxes!”
“How’s your mom doing?”
“Oi! Neil, don’t change the subject on me,” Louis glares at Niall.
“I was just asking about how your progress is going on that track for that girl group you’re working with,” Liam lies effortlessly.
Louis doesn’t notice and perks up at the mention of the girls. “Oh Li, these girls are fantastic. Really talented. I’m excited to turn out a big hit for them, their voices are absolutely amazing. They’re going to be massive one day and hopefully my song helps them get there.”
“Speaking of your songs, have you started thinking about what you’re gonna wear for the Grammy’s?”
Louis laughs. “Why would I think of that now, Niall? You silly boy. It’s not until February.”
Liam shrugs. “Don’t you wanna look nice, Lou? You should contact some place and make sure you can get something nice and tailored for you.”
“I have plenty of nice suits in my closet, Payno. I’ll be fine.”
“But Lou, it’s the fucking Grammy’s! You gotta look top notch, you gotta make an impact. You’ll be the hot British guy that everyone wants to talk to.”
“Yeah, if you look nice you’ll make more of an impact,” Liam adds. “You may get even more big American artists looking into you.”
“Well… that does sound pretty good,” Louis sighs. “I’ll look into it, I promise. Now, how about some Fifa, lads?”
“Me first! Me first!” Niall shouts, scrambling off the couch, racing towards the controllers, elbowing Louis in the stomach on the way.
10 January 2017
The sun is shining particularly bright for a Tuesday in January. Louis is not complaining, but he’s left squinting at his mum overtop their lunch. Louis regrets choosing a table next to the windows.
“Boo, you know it’s almost a month away. Are you ready?”
“Yeah, of course I am, Mum.” Louis pauses, taking a bite out of his burger. “Like you said, it’s a month away. I have plenty of time to get a suit together.”
Jay rolls her eyes. “What about your hair? It’s not like you have your own personal stylist to do this all for you, Louis.”
“Mum, I’ll be fine. I’ve been to plenty award shows before,” he shrugs.
“I will not have my son look like a fool at the Grammy’s!” Jay points out, quite aggressively, before stabbing her fork into her pasta dish and taking a bite.
Even though Louis just spent time with his family during his birthday and over the Christmas holiday, he can never get too much time with his mum. Louis thought it would be a good idea to have lunch with Jay, as she was in London visiting a few friends, but now she’s just interrogating him about the Grammy’s and Louis can’t take it anymore.
“Mum, calm down. I’ll figure it out in time. I’m a grown man, an adult!”
“An adult my ass,” she remarks under her breath. “I’m sure you will figure it out,” she says louder, a sarcastic smile on her face.
“Mum! I have a plan. I got this, please stop worrying about me.” Louis rolls his eyes, annoyed, and picks up a few chips to chew on. “Now, tell me all the New Year's Doncaster gossip I’ve missed out on.”
Now that grabs Jay’s attention. “Oh, you’ll never guess what little old Rita told me about Sandra!”
4 February 2017
“I don’t got this,” Louis mutters to himself, pacing the length of his bedroom, bare feet digging into the soft white rug under him. “I said I had a plan. I absolutely have no plan. Fuck.” Louis stops in front of the full body mirror next to his closet door. The greasy hair covering his forehead messily and his unshaven face are not really helping his mood right now.
“Why didn’t anyone call me out on my shit, Niall?” Louis whines into his cell phone an hour later. When he tired of pacing his bedroom and feeling sorry for himself he spread his body out on his bed and starting browsing the google image results of past Grammy looks. He desperately needed an impressive suit and nothing he had would fit the bill. Needing his best friends to validate his emotions, he called up Niall and Liam into a three-way call for emotional support. It wasn’t working out in his favor.
“Tommo. We did. I did, Niall did, your mum did,” Liam huffs from his side of the line. “We all called you out on your shit multiple times and the Grammy’s are literally in eight days and you have no idea what to wear.”
“Neil! Help me out, please. Liam won’t help me. He’s too mean! Do you have any idea what I could do? What designer in their right mind would design and tailor a whole entire look for me in a week? I’m doomed. I’m going to let everyone down.”
Louis lets out a big sigh. He truly fucked this one up. He wants to look good for his mum. He wants to represent himself as an artist as well as he possibly could during his first appearance at the biggest music award show. Now it’s all gone down the drain.
Niall allows Louis to stew in his own self pity in silence before speaking up. “I think I have an idea…” he trails off.
Louis eyes go wide and he swings his body into a sitting position so fast he swears he almost hurts himself, but he doesn’t care, he needs to know if he heard his best friend right.
“Niall Horan. Did you just say you might be able to help me?”
“Niall,” Liam warns.
Niall hesitates. “I know of someone who might be willing to help you. Have you ever heard of Stylx?”
“Niall!” Liam hisses, angry at Niall for finishing his train of thought.
“Styles? Like clothing styles? You’re losing me here.”
“No. Stylx. It’s spell s-t-y-l-x, just pronounced like styles.”
“What does this have to do with anything?” Louis rolls his eyes.
“Stylx is one of the top designers right now and they just moved their main headquarters to London and opened a new studio.”
Now it’s Louis’ turn to hesitate. “Niall, you know I’ve distanced myself from the fashion industry ever since…”
“Yeah, yeah. I know, Tommo. But listen, just go check this designer out. I guarantee they’ll be able to help you. In one way or another.”
“What does that mean?”
“Don’t worry about it, Lou. I’ll text you the details. Go check out the studio tomorrow.”
“Good luck,” Liam tries to add before Niall cuts off the whole group by ending the call.
Louis stares at his phone. Well. Niall was being super vague, but Louis guesses this is his only option. If he wants to attempt to at least make a good first impression at the Grammys, then he needs this Stylx thing to work.
The text from Niall comes through a few minutes later, just as vague with only an address and floor number. Louis has no other choice now.
He pulls his body off his bed and finally decides to shower, shave, and finally put on some clean clothes for once.
5 February 2017
Louis decides to dress nice. He figures that if he’s going to be meeting with a fashion designer then his fashion choices should at least make a good impression. After rifling through his closet in just his pants for a solid thirty minutes after his shower, Louis finally decides on skinny black jeans, a maroon button up with tiny white dots all over, and a black blazer.
After Niall’s suggestion last night he decided to do some research on whoever, or whatever this Stylx thing is and his findings were deeply underwhelming.
Louis found that Stylx has been around for about five or six years. Apparently the brand started gaining attention when a few famous faces started wearing gowns and suits to red carpet events made by a random kid who was straight out of university. The looks were outrageous and entirely different from one another. Showstoppers included a light blue twill suit , with large black lapels, and a quirky heart and dagger detail, and a head-turning gown with gold lace and floral designs covering the strapless bodice and bustier, which spilled out over the black voluminous bottom half in a high-low design. There wasn’t one common thread among the garments expect for the tiny “Stylx” label stitched on the inside.
No one knows exactly who runs Stylx. It’s the fashion world’s biggest secret, but it’s also the biggest success at the moment. The clients run on a referral only basis, making sure everyone keeps tight lipped about the designer’s true identity. The clients are required to meet the designer in person for private fittings, but even then they have to sign an agreement not to spill the beans.
Louis has absolutely no clue how Niall knows about this and why Niall is even telling him to seek out this high profile studio for help.
Louis clears his head of any doubts and questions he has as he boards the elevator, wanting to seem professional, and presses the button for the nineteenth floor, which conveniently has a tiny engraved Stylx logo next to it.
The elevator travels all the way up with no interruptions and it lets him off into a large, white lobby. The space is giant, floor to ceiling windows on both his left and his right sides. The windows to his right are accompanied by white couches and to the left is a large table where some refreshments seem to be laid out for visitors. The pattern of the walnut colored wood under his feet is interrupted by a soft pale pink rug in the center of the lobby. Straight ahead is a modern receptionist desk, where a lady is sitting, her eyes focused on the computer in front of her, fingers typing frantically.
Louis surveys the room, not wanting to interrupt the Important Looking Woman. He spies a doorway to his right, not far from the desk. The door is ajar but Louis can tell that it’s off limits. It looks like he’s going to have to interrupt Important Looking Woman.
He approaches the desk and clears his throat.
Important Looking Woman stops her typing and looks up at Louis, her dark brown eyes making Louis feel like she sees right through him. She raises a perfect eyebrow at him and sweeps her eyes over him unimpressively. Louis is very intimidated by the dark skinned woman and he feels like he’s going to be thrown out any second by now.
“Hello, I’m Serena. How many I help you…” she trails off, prompting for Louis to introduce himself. Her voice echos loudly throughout the lobby.
Louis swallows thickly. “Louis. Louis Tomlinson.”
A loud crash escapes from the doorway next to the desk. The noise not only startles Louis a little bit, but also confuses him. The smirk on Serena’s face is even more confusing.
“How may I help you today, Mr. Tomlinson?”
“I’m, uh, looking for a suit.”
“Well,” Serena chuckles lowly, “you’re in the right place. Stylx does design suits. Now, when is the occasion that you’ll need this suit for? Keep in mind garments from Stylx are in high demand and we are booked solid all the way through till October of this year.”
Louis sputters in surprise. “October!” he screeches. “I need a suit for the Grammy’s. The twelfth of February. This year.” Another crash comes from the back room, but Serena’s laughter distracts him from thinking too hard about it.
“You are aware of just how popular we are, Mr. Tomlinson, right? That event is literally a week away. There is no way we can accommodate you.”
Louis rolls his eyes and tries not to whine or sound too desperate when he speaks. “Listen, my mate Niall Horan said that you guys would be able to help me out.”
Louis starts to have an internal breakdown. Niall, the stupid little leprechaun, promised Louis that Stylx would be able to help him out. There’s no possible way they could be booked until October! Yeah, maybe Louis is being a bit irrational asking for a whole suit to be made for him in a week, but Niall assured him they would be able to help.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Tomlinson. I’m going to have to ask you to leave. There’s nothing we can do for you.” Serena doesn’t look apologetic at all, her eyes already returning to the computer screen, fingers resuming their position on the keyboard.
Louis feels all the fight leave his body. He sighs, shoulders dropping as he whispers one last thank you and goodbye to Serena. He turns to exit, but a male voice from the backroom causes him to pause in his footsteps.
“Serena, send Mr. Tomlinson back, please!” the voice yells out.
Serena eyes Louis once again, a critical gaze traveling from his tippy toes to the top of his head. “Are you sure, H?”
H. Stylx. Styles.
Louis beings to panic.
Louis does not want to think about it.
“Yes please, Serena. Send Mr. Tomlinson back and you can go on your break.”
Serena purses her lip and nods, even though the man in the back can’t see her. “Well, you heard the boss. Go ahead in.” Serena gracefully rises from her chair at her desk and brushes past Louis on her way out the door, high heels clicking against the wood floors.
Louis takes a deep breath, readying himself to come face to face with the mysterious Stylx creator.
12 June 2006
Louis knew this day would come. Harry’s always wanted to study fashion, his dream school being Parsons, the New School for Design. Louis knows that that school would make his boyfriend’s heart soar and his dreams come true, but there was always this little voice in the back of Louis’ head hoping that Harry would go to a design school closer, like in London. Like in London, the city Louis was going to study in. Not fucking New York.
“I was accepted into Parsons. I’m going to New York for uni. I’m so sorry, Lou.”
Louis knows how hard Harry has worked for this. He’s so, so proud of him. Having a long distance relationship is going to be tough, but at least they have the whole summer to talk about it and to strengthen where they currently stand. There’s no way Louis is going to let the past four years go to waste.
“H. I’m so, so happy for you. I -”
“I also secretly applied to the summer program,” Harry cuts Louis off, biting his lower lip, now avoiding eye contact. “They said it was super selective and really hard to get into. I applied on a whim.” Harry lets out a dry laugh. He lifts his eyes to meet Louis’ and this time, they’re swimming in unshed tears.
Louis is confused.
“I was accepted.”
“That’s amazing. I’m so proud of you, H. I knew you could do it.” Louis beams at his boyfriend, being as supportive as possible even though his stomach is swimming with uneasiness.
Harry’s tears are now freely flowing down his face, their tracks visible. “I’m so sorry, Lou. I’m so, so sorry.”
“You’re scaring me, Harry,” Louis whispers, cautious and confused.
Harry drags his feet across his bedroom and sits down next to Louis on the bed. Louis is still clutching the beautiful sketch of the ball gown, the paper now wrinkling under the strength of his grasp. Harry’s tears are provoking Louis to form his own tears, even though he doesn’t yet know the cause of them.
“My flight to New York is the sixteenth. The program starts the nineteenth. We have four days left together.”
Louis’ tears are now flowing. They slide down his face slow and quiet, gently falling on top of the ball gown, smearing the colors, dampening the paper. Louis is quiet, but Harry is full on sobbing. His body begins to curl in on itself, long hair falling down his back and over his arms as he buries his head into them. Louis knows this action to be a sign that Harry is feeling insecure, not loved, unwanted.
After carefully placing the ball gown sketch on his pillow, Louis begins to wrap his arms around Harry’s body, letting him know that Louis is present, that Louis loves him, that Louis wants him.
Louis swallows hard, trying to get by the lump sitting in his throat. “I’m so undeniably in love with you, Harry Styles. I’m immensely proud of you for following your dreams and actively making them come true. You’re not only the most passionate person I know, but you’re the most talented. You’re going to make great things one day, H. I just know it.”
The next four days fly by in a flash. The tears don’t stop that morning, in fact, they keep coming faster and faster. Whether Louis is alone, with Harry, or with his family, he just can’t stop the tears from falling.
Louis finds himself awake, not able to sleep, most of the nights leading up to Harry’s flight, silently sitting in the windowsill in Harry’s now almost empty room. Louis can’t stop the flow of tears even if he tried, hands still clutching the beautiful sketch of the other-worldly ball gown Harry created the morning everything changed.
There are so many things Louis wants to say to Harry before he has to go through airport security to reach his flight. So many things. Things like “I’m so heartbroken,” or “Please stay with me.”
Louis settles on a simple “I love you and I’m so proud of you, H.” He accompanies his farewell with a rough kiss to Harry’s lips and a soft one to both cheeks and his forehead. Louis tries his hardest to hide his tears, and even when he fails, Harry pretends not to see. Louis pretends not to notice Harry’s own tears.
So many things were left unspoken and on the car ride home, the only thing Louis feels is numbness spreading throughout his whole entire body.
On the edge of a panic attack, he makes his mum stop at a nearby store, any store. Louis doesn’t care. He races inside and buys the first journal he sees along with a brand new black pen. He’s in and out of the store quickly and resettles himself into Jay’s car, but in the backseat rather than the passenger seat. He doesn’t even remember to buckle his seatbelt before he opens up the journal and starts writing down everything and anything he wanted to say to Harry in those last moments.
When he gets home, he carefully folds the sketch of the ball gown to fit inside the front cover of what would become his first ever songwriting journal.
5 February 2017
The first thing Louis notices when he walks through the doorway is a very tall, very handsome Harry Styles standing behind a desk. His back is hunched over a tiny bit, hands clasped in front of him, black painted fingernails tugging nervously and fiddling with the many rings he’s wearing on his fingers.
The desk is clearly organized well, but most of its belongings appear to be all over the floor now. Harry, dressed in black skinny jeans and a white t-shirt, stands barefoot surrounded by a circle of papers spread out around him. His desk chair is also lying on the ground along with another large object Louis can’t make out from where he’s standing.
The area may be in shambles, but Louis doesn’t pay attention to the mess, he’s too busy staring at Harry’s head.
“You cut your hair,” Louis says in place of a greeting.
Harry’s cheeks flush pink and he looks down at his feet. He raises his hand to swipe through the short amount of hair on the top of his head.
He swallows hard. “Donated it back in May.”
Louis nods. The pair stands in silence for a few seconds before Harry bends down to start retrieving the papers he dropped. He carefully rearranges them so they’re all in the same direction and places them on top of his closed laptop. He picks up his desk chair next and tucks it into his desk.
Louis’ heart stutters when Harry sheepishly bends down to pick up the next object that is lying on the floor. Harry rearranges it into the empty space behind to his desk, next to a minimal bookcase, which appears to be its permanent home.
“You… you still have the dress form I got you for your eighteenth birthday? You've kept it for ten years, Harry?” Louis’ eyes flick around Harry’s studio. It’s big and modern, with floor to ceiling windows that help flood the room in bright sunlight, just like the lobby. One side of the room is where Harry’s desk lives and the other holds a wide variety of garments covering a multitude of dress forms, ones that look new, more clean and professional, than the one Louis currently can't take his eyes off of. More importantly, he can't take his eyes off the faded, but present, heart surrounding the “H + L” written delicately in Louis’ handwriting in the center of the mannequin.
The jersey and linen that make up the outer shell of the dress form has faded over the decade, the wear and tear of many years of use finally affecting it. Louis originally found it in an antique store, the owner, who was hesitant to sell it to Louis until he made an offer the owner couldn’t refuse, saying it wasn’t too old and still in good condition.
Louis remembers the many weekends Harry would spend with the dress form, practicing his draping and clothing construction. Louis would lounge on Harry’s bed as Harry flitted around his small room, happily humming whatever was in his head.
Louis remembers the nights of frustration when Harry couldn’t actualize the vision he had in his head. The dress form not only served as a canvas for Harry’s creative expressions, but it sometimes served as a punching bag in his more discouraged moments.
Louis remembers, though, over everything else, the amount of pride he felt for Harry anytime he looked at the mannequin. It didn’t matter if the dress form had a fully finished and realized garment on it or if it had nothing on it; whenever Louis looked at it, he would feel overwhelmingly proud of Harry and everything he had accomplished.
Harry shrugs, hand wrapped around the back of his neck nervously. “It's one of the most important things in my life. I don't know,” he shrugs again, nervously biting his lip. “It kinda reminds me that there are, were, people out there who believe in me and my craft. I don't even use it anymore, it just sits behind my desk and reminds me of where I came from and who I truly am.”
Harry and Louis lock eyes. Louis is able to see every emotion present in Harry’s beautiful green eyes, just like he was able to ten years ago. Louis sees the loneliness in Harry’s eyes. He sees success, but he also sees the sadness that has followed it.
“The world of fashion can be a pretty lonely place, Louis, and this dress form reminds me that I wasn’t always alone, even if I am now,” Harry says, voice low and shy. He walks around his desk to stand in front of Louis. There’s still a large gap of space between them, but now that Harry’s not hidden behind the desk anymore, the imaginary magnet pulling Louis towards his ex-boyfriend is even stronger.
“Oh, H,” Louis’ voice shakes. He walks towards Harry and pulls him into a tight hug. As Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s shoulders, he can feel how tense he is, but he begins relaxing into Louis.
Their hug is fierce and tight, so many unspoken words between them. Louis feels overwhelmed in the moment. The feel of Harry in his arms, his smell filling his nose, it feels very nostalgic. Being here with Harry, his Harry, makes him feel emotions he hasn’t felt in ten years.
Louis realizes he’s standing in Harry’s studio. Harry, his first love, has finally achieved his dream. Louis’ heart swells with pride. Louis remembers so many nights where he would lie in bed, Harry’s head resting on his chest, and listen to his boyfriend ramble about what his studio might look like one day. Harry would imagine what he would create for clients, he’d imagine who would be his clients.
Louis laughs, feeling small tears slowly sliding down his face. He pulls out of the hug, holds Harry’s shoulders and lets his eyes roam over his face. Harry has a small smile on his face, his trademark dimple causing butterflies to fly in Louis’ stomach. Louis sniffles softly.
“You did it, H. You got your studio,” Louis chuckles, letting a few more tears escape. “I’m so proud of you.”
Harry’s smile grows and he reaches out for Louis’ face to wipe away the tear tracks. “Thanks for always believing in me, Lou. It’s what got me through the last ten years.”
They both grin like fools at each other, not knowing what to say next. Louis finally drops his hands from Harry’s shoulders and clears his throat. Both of their smiles fall away.
“We should talk or something,” Louis suggests. Harry nods and brushes by Louis, walking to the lobby. Louis takes one last look at Harry’s studio, just in case he’ll never see it again, and turns to follow him.
“Go ahead and sit on a couch over there. Make yourself comfortable,” Harry says when he hears Louis walk into the lobby. He’s already standing at the long snack table fiddling with stuff.
A few minutes later Harry joins Louis on the couch, a respectable distance between them, with two warm mugs of tea. “Still take your tea the same way?” Harry sheepishly asks, handing over Louis his own mug.
Louis nods, taking a sip. He closes his eyes, enjoying the burn of the hot tea on his tongue and the perfect way Harry still knows how to make Louis’ tea.
After some more silence, Harry finally decides to make himself more comfortable, straightening his back and bringing up his legs and crossing them underneath him. He turns his body more towards Louis.
Louis can’t take his eyes off of Harry’s legs the whole time. His thighs and calves, wrapped in the tight black denim, give Louis the chills. Louis was always attracted to Harry, but ten years has gone by and a lot can change in ten years.
“So. Did I overhear you and Serena correctly? Something about the Grammy’s?” Harry asks, genuine curiosity in his voice and eyes.
Louis feels his face and neck flush, both from the Grammy’s questions and from Harry’s full undivided attention. It’s been awhile since he’s had someone look at him the way Harry does.
“Well, uh. Funny story,” Louis laughs quietly. “I’m a, uh, songwriter.”
Harry’s eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline, eyes widening. “Songwriting? Oh wow, Lou. When did this happen?”
Louis knows his skin is turning more and more red. “The day you left, actually. It helped me cope.”
“Oh, Lou. I -”
“It actually helped me decide what to study. Went to uni in London. Did music, music composition, and music theory. I’ve, uh, gotten some awards before, but this is my first Grammy. Nominated for song of the year.”
“You’ve probably heard some of my songs on the radio and might’ve not known. They’re nothing spectacular, but they’re, well, me,” Louis shrugs.
“Oh, quit being so humble! I’m so proud of you!” Harry unfolds his legs, placing his mug on the coffee table in front of them. He wraps his arms around Louis from the side and wiggles in glee. “That’s amazing! Oh my gosh! Louis Tomlinson. That’s great, spectacular, amazing! You deserve it so much!”
Louis is laughing by this point, Harry’s unabashed glee making Louis just as happy. “Calm down, H,” Louis says in between laughs. “Thank you, thank you.”
Harry finally lets go of Louis and sits back on his knees, a little breathless. His short hair is messy and soft, a large smile overtaking his face, making his dimples pop. “So, do you need a suit? I can make you a suit!”
Louis gapes at Harry. “H, aren’t you like booked until October?”
Harry rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I totally am, but we do that because it takes a while to make the perfect piece for some picky clients so I try to do like one or two pieces per month. Besides, you’re Louis Tomlinson . I know you like the back of my hand. I can create the suit of your dreams, honestly.”
Louis moves to sit on the edge of the couch. “I can’t force you to make me a whole entire look in a week.”
Harry stands from the couch. “I want to.”
“H,” Louis sighs.
“Come on, let me.” Harry grabs Louis’ hand, laces their fingers together, and pulls him to stand up. Louis complies, begrudgingly so, and rolls his eyes at the delight that overtakes Harry’s face.
“I’m still paying you though.” When Harry goes to fight him, Louis tuts. “No, don’t argue with me on this. It’s on short notice and it’s not like I don’t have the money.”
Harry pouts. “Fine. Come on, let me take your measurements.”
Louis follows Harry back into his studio and assumes the position so Harry can start measuring Louis’ arms, legs, and torso. Louis had seen Harry in his work mode plenty of times while they were together, but now, Harry is a full grow adult and the pure concentration on his face as he kneels in front of Louis to measure his inseam is truly breathtaking. It takes every ounce of control Louis has not flinch the closer Harry’s hands and face get to his crotch. Louis never would have thought that he would reunite with Harry Styles under these circumstances.
Louis boards the elevator with Harry’s number in his phone, and a promise to return for another consultation tomorrow.
When Louis is on his way home after his meeting with Harry, he can’t seem to stop smiling. Harry had asked Louis what he wanted to wear to the Grammys, but Louis wanted to be surprised. Even without looking at Harry’s collections, Louis fully trusts him to create something truly unique and wonderful. There’s no one who knows Louis better than Harry and Louis know Harry would never half-ass anything.
Louis enters his apartment to find Niall and Liam sitting on his couch in the middle of a very heated game of Fifa. There are two pizza boxes on the coffee table in front of them and a lot of shouting filling the air.
Now, Louis loves his two best friends, but the cloud of happiness Louis is floating on finally hits the ground when he sees them making a mess of his living room.
“How’d it go with Harry?” Niall shouts out, shoving another piece of pizza in his mouth, not even looking away from the tv screen.
Louis’ jaw hits the floor. “How did you…?”
Niall sighs, pausing the game. “Who do you think I’ve been secretly talking to on the phone all this time?”
Louis helplessly turns and looks at Liam.
All Liam does is shrug. “Just because you lost contact with him ten years ago doesn’t mean we did. When he told Niall and I he finally decided to move his studio to London we were stoked.”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?!” Louis is surprised. He thought his best friends had his back. He could have reconnected with Harry months ago if he knew this.
Liam gives Louis a look.
“Okay, okay. You’re right. I probably would’ve told you lot to fuck off a few months ago.” Louis turns to Niall. “So that’s why you told me that Stylx would make me a suit! Because it’s my Styles! My Harry Styles.”
Niall nods. “I thought it would be a good idea to get you two to reconnect and you needing this suit was a great coincidence, honestly. Liam was against it from the beginning, but he’s boring anyway.”
“Hey!” Liam shouts, affronted.
Louis sits on the love seat adjacent to the couch. He doesn’t really know what to feel. He’s excited to see Harry again, it truly has been a long, long time. But it’s kinda confusing. He’s a little upset that Niall and Liam did some meddling, but he’s mostly appreciative of their actions.
Harry and Louis lost contact after Harry moved away for the summer program at Parsons. Harry was busy doing his fashion designer in training things. Louis doesn’t know if he was too busy to text a word or give a quick phone call back, but all of that is in the past now. They never truly parted, but after ten years it’s safe to say that the relationship ended years ago. Louis is just glad there was never any malice or hate. Louis doesn’t think he’d be able to handle hating Harry.
But all of this puts him and Harry in a very sticky situation now. He’s still very obviously attracted to his once best friend and boyfriend. In fact, they were each other’s first boyfriends. First boy kisses. First a lot of things.
Does he try to continue being friends with Harry? Should he give into this obvious want he still has for Harry?
What if Harry has a boyfriend? What if Harry has a husband? They are both twenty-nine now. That’s old. It’s a perfectly acceptable age for Harry to be married by now. Louis tries to recall seeing a wedding ring on Harry’s fingers. He definitely remembers seeing a lot of rings, but as he thinks harder, in fact, Harry’s ring finger was the only finger with out a ring on it.
Louis lets out a deep sigh.
“You okay, mate?” Liam asks cautiously.
Louis clears his throat. “Yeah, yeah. I’m okay. I think.” He looks up and looks at his best friends. Liam looks apologetic, like he can read Louis’ thoughts. Niall, on the other hand, looks ecstatic.
“What do I do, lads?”
“What do you mean?”
“Sh, Liam. That’s a dumb question. He’s obviously asking what should he do about Harry.”
Louis looks at them, still waiting for an answer.
Niall smirks mischievously. “Well, you’re going to be spending everyday this week with him. In fact, you’re seeing him tomorrow.”
“How do you -”
“So just feel it out. See if your energies still,” Niall interlocks his fingers and wiggles them, “jive with each other. Do your normal banter stuff and flirt a little. It won’t hurt.”
Louis stares at Niall. He stares at him hard. It’s almost like Niall’s had this planned out for months.
“Yes,” Liam says, confirming Louis’ thoughts - which, weird. “Niall has been planning this for quite some time. Since the moment we heard Harry was moving back.”
Louis is too tired to ask anymore questions. He removes himself from the love seat and plops himself right between Liam and Niall on the couch with a slice of pizza in each hand. He lets himself reflect on this eventful day as his two best friends scream at each other over a video game.
6 February 2017
“So, I was up all night last night thinking about what to make you,” Harry says in place of a greeting when Louis walks into his studio around noon the next day, “and I think I finally got it.”
Harry’s moved one of the couches from the lobby into his spacious studio so Louis would have somewhere to sit and relax and watch Harry work like old times. They’re currently sitting on the couch, eating chips Louis bought at a shop down the road on his way to Stylx, and reviewing the sketches Harry made in his sketchbook.
Looking through Harry’s drawings gives Louis a plunging feeling of nostalgia, but also a weird tinge of sadness. The last time Louis looked through Harry’s sketches was when Harry told Louis he was leaving.
Harry must sense something is off so he scoots closer to Louis, finally erasing the space in between them, making their thighs meet, as if to say that Harry is staying this time. That he’s here to stay, he’s going nowhere.
“So this was my original design for you,” he says pointing to a very stylish sketch of a simple black blazer and a black, white, and pink floral print shirt underneath it. “I think it’s a good mix of my personal design aesthetic and the simplistic, minimal thing you like so much.”
Louis blushes at the fact that Harry remembers what Louis likes to wear, even after all these years. Louis understands that to a designer it’s important to know and listen to what the client wants, but above all, Harry needs to have his personal aesthetic present in what he’s making. Louis has no doubts though; he knows Harry will be able to combine their two styles into one wonderful piece.
“But,” Harry continues, critiquing the floral design, “I don’t think it’s show-stopping enough for the Grammy’s. I want you to be on all the Best Dressed lists. I want you to be the king of those lists.”
Louis hums along and turns the page to find something that peaks his interest. “I quite like this.”
What Harry has drawn is a dark red and black vertical striped blazer and Harry nods along with Louis’ sentiment. “I do too, but it seems too casual. I couldn’t even design a whole look to go with it. The jacket was the only realized item. So this is a no.”
Harry reaches across Louis’ lap and turns the page for him this time. Louis’ jaw drops at what he sees.
“Now this,” Harry says with a twinkle in his eye, dimple deepening his cheek, “is a real show-stopper. The perfect mixture of me and you. In a suit.”
The sketch Louis is looking at is truly breathtaking and one glance at it transports Louis back to the morning of the thirteenth of June 2006, when he woke up to find the most gorgeous ball gown design he’d ever seen Harry create.
“Harry,” Louis breathes out, soft and quiet. His fingertips trace lightly over the drawing of the suit. Louis lifts his eyes, a little damp with tears, off of the sketch and meets Harry’s eyes.
Harry blushes and looks away. He brings his eyes back to Louis’ as he whispers, “Louis, will you let me style you? All of you? Your hair, shoes, accessories?”
“It would be an honor, Harry.”
7 February 2017
The wall behind the workbench is completely covered. The sunlight filtering in through the giant windows illuminate the variety of magazine cutouts, sketches, and color palettes that are haphazardly taped to the white surface. The chaos has an order to it, though. An order that only a certain Harry Styles would be able to make sense of, but the fact still stands.
The workbench looks like a pride flag threw up over it, scraps of different colored fabric covering every inch of the surface. Piles of buttons and zippers are staggered around the perimeter of the table. Different spools of thread are placed here and there, some sitting in between the piles and others meticulously matched up with certain fabrics.
From where Louis is standing, inside the doorway to Harry’s studio, it looks like a completely different world. The dress forms that cluttered this side of the room just the other day are all gone now and are replaced with the evidence of Harry’s creative process, which is truly a beautiful sight.
Whenever Harry is at his most creative, he’s the quirkiest. He sings to himself, endlessly humming whatever tune is running through his head. He dances around his space, leaps and does tiny little pirouettes. He’s carefree, full of joy and imagination.
Louis quiet giggles to himself, remembering that Harry always said that “Louis is a great person to just like sit and kind of like just admire what he's like,” but Louis is the one doing the admiring now. Louis always admired Harry, so proud of his boy. He always loved watching him work too, the sight making him happy and calm.
His heart clenches in his chest as he watches as Harry takes a second to finally stand still and put a finger to his chin, tapping it, as he eyes his wall of inspiration critically before he’s on the move again. The sight sends him back to 2003 when Harry first finally decided to share his passion with Louis. One day after school, Harry dragged Louis up to his room and shyly showed him the large binder he had full of images he’d printed off the internet, pictures he ripped out of magazines, and photographs he’s taken of random people in the street. The little binder is a far cry from the wall Harry was just staring at moments ago, but the look in his eyes hasn’t changed over time.
Harry is back at his workbench now, running his fingers over the fabrics, letting what his fingertips feel and the colors his eyes see stimulate his brain. He pulls the yellows, oranges, reds, and pinks from the table, shoving the scraps into a large storage container under his desk that’s already full of similar colors. From another container he produces more cool-toned colors to replace the warm ones he just removed.
Louis is transported back to 2004 now, sitting on Harry’s bedroom floor. Their eyes are tired, sky already dark, the ceiling fan working extra hard to cool down the room. The circulating air feels good on their sweaty bare backs, but is also causing them aggravation as the different scraps of colored fabric on the floor in between their legs won’t sit still. The couple sit there the whole night, talking through color palettes and possible eye-catching combinations. They’re dead tired, but the laughter and soft kisses keep them awake long enough to see the sunrise.
Louis smiles softly to himself, remembering these beautiful moments from his and Harry’s past. Louis genuinely hopes Harry remembers these days and moments just as well as Louis does because these memories are what inspire him and keep him hoping that one day he’ll find a love as fully satisfying and beautiful as theirs once was.
Louis, who had lost sight of Harry during his daydreaming, finds him sitting in the middle of his studio’s floor, arms supporting him as he leans back, eyeing the wall critically. His legs are crossed and his face is deep in thought. In his lap are two scraps of fabric, each a different color.
Louis almost moans out loud (luckily he doesn’t) when he realizes what Harry’s wearing. The skin tight white jeans wrap around his thighs magically and the beautiful blue button up shirt with tiny white stars all over it reveals the perfect amount of Harry’s chest and tattoos. Harry’s short hair is tousled and messy, probably from him running his fingers through it continually. Louis doesn’t understand how Harry could already be that stressed at ten in the morning. Harry’s also barefoot again. Thank God he doesn’t have smelly feet.
Louis smiles softly to himself and shuffles from foot to foot, enjoying looking at the peacefulness that has washed over Harry’s features. He doesn’t want to disturb him.
After a few more minutes of quiet observation Louis clears his throat softly, breaking Harry out of his trance.
Harry’s head whips around to face Louis in the doorway, a wide smile dominating his face. “Louis! You’re here!” He unfolds his legs and stands up fast.
“Woah, be careful there Bambi,” Louis warns when Harry starts slightly swaying.
Harry chuckles. “I’m fine.”
“Still have those back issues??
Harry blushes. “You remember?”
Louis scuffs and walks fully into the studio, meeting Harry in the middle of the carpet. “Of course I do, H. Remember all those nights where you wouldn’t stop whining and whining and whining about how much your back hurt?”
“Heeeyy,” Harry whines, ironically. “You were always super sweet about it though. Would cuddle me and give me back massages.”
At the mention of back massages they both turn bright pink and break contact, obviously remembering the same memory where one particular back massage led to an inconvenient boner the exact moment Louis’ mom called them downstairs for dinner.
Louis awkwardly clears his throat, trying to break the tension. “So,” he gestures towards the area surrounding Harry’s workbench, “what’s all this for?”
“Trying to pick what fabrics and stuff to use for your suit. I’ve been through everything we have in storage. Nothing here is speaking to me, though.”
“Oh,” Louis says, lips tilting into a frown. “What’re you going to do then?”
A mischievous smile takes over Harry’s face. “Have you ever been fabric shopping, Louis?”
Louis’ first thought walking into Harry’s favorite fabric store is that it’s a magical alternate dimension. The store is two floors of lengthy hallways, each filled to the brim with different fabrics. All the colors start to make Louis’ head spin. He doesn’t understand how Harry could ever find what he needs in this black hole of a store.
Harry guides him through the first floor, down one aisle, down two aisles, down three aisles, until he finally finds what he is looking for. He stops in the middle of the aisle and eyes the right side critically, searching for the perfect fabric.
“Chris!” Harry yells out. “I need a hand, please!”
Louis looks at Harry like he grown a second head, but then he understands when he sees a tall guy around their age appear.
“Can you get me down that one, please?” Harry points to the fabric he wants and Chris pulls it down for him. Once it’s on the ground, Harry runs his hand over it critically, tongue poking out from behind his lips in concentration.
“I quite like this,” Harry whispers to himself. “What do you think, Lou?”
Louis crouches down, mirroring Harry’s position. He runs his hands over the fabric, quite enjoying its texture. “It’s nice, H.”
Harry nods and stands to his full height. “Can you please cut me four yards, Chris?”
Harry drags Louis around some more, upstairs, downstairs, upstairs again, until he finds another gorgeous fabric for Louis’ suit, requesting two yards of it to be cut for him. They finish the serious business first, like picking out buttons and zippers, before Harry decides he wants to be sneaky.
“Come on, Lou. Let loose. Have you ever been in a place as colorful as this before?”
“Louis,” Harry whines. “Let’s have some fun.” He smiles mischievously at Louis and winks, before turning his back and running down the aisle, calling out a cute “Catch me if you can!” along with some giggles.
Louis has no choice but to run after him, butterflies in his stomach.
“I promise this is not the first time I’ve been kicked out of there,” Harry giggles in between his panting.
Louis is bent at the waist, hands resting on his knees, chest heaving. “Not only did you think it would be a good idea to run around like an idiot in there, but you’ve done it before?” Louis asks, outraged.
They’re standing outside the fabric store, Harry clutching tightly to his bags of recently purchased fabric, out of breath from running around. Louis glances up at Harry and begins breathing harder. It must be around noon now and the sunlight is illuminating Harry perfectly. His face is flushed a light pink and his hairline is a little sweaty. Louis suddenly has the urge to kiss him.
Louis turns his head back down to the ground, not wanting to entertain his brain and its evil little urges. He has to remind himself that he and Harry aren’t like that, not anymore.
“Come on, Lou. I have a lot of work to do,” Harry says. He grabs for Louis’ hand, interlocks their fingers, and starts dragging him in the direction of the studio.
Maybe he and Harry aren’t like that anymore, but maybe one day they could be.
8 February 2017
“Harry… when’d you have time to do all this?” Louis’ eyes are wide, mouth open in awe. The dress form he’s standing in front of has an almost finished blazer on it. The trousers that are draped over the workbench are under construction, but look almost complete as well.
Harry bites his lip shyly, swinging his hands by his side nervously. “Well, I felt really inspired after our shopping trip. Once you left for that meeting you had to go to I just couldn’t stop myself. It may look complete,” Harry shrugs, “but there’s still so much I need to do. I want this to be perfect for you.”
Harry’s eyes hold Louis in place, the intensity burning deep inside Louis. Louis’ hands go clammy and his vision blurs as his thoughts from last night flash hot in his mind.
Before Louis settled into bed for the night he scrolled through Facebook and couldn’t help but feel an intense longing for his friends’ lives. He saw a post Niall made about his serious girlfriend, secretly knowing that any day he was going to pop the question. Liam changed his profile picture to a selfie of him and his husband Zayn. Even though Louis saw them in person over Christmas, Louis couldn’t help swooning over the cute ultrasound photos Lottie posted.
All of this reminded Louis of just how lonely he is, how he doesn’t have a significant other to share his wins and losses with. Louis loves his job because he’s never alone, purposely made sure he would never be alone, but he realized last night as he lie in bed that being alone and feeling lonely are completely different things.
Before he knew it, his thoughts jumped to Harry. His first and last love. Louis realized with a sharp stab to his heart that he wants all of that with Harry. He wants a family with Harry, always had, even as young as they were. More importantly he wants to be in Harry’s life to celebrate his victories with him and to comfort him in his losses as his partner .
Louis had a very fitful slumber.
Now, as Louis stands in front of Harry, he can see that Harry wants the same things. His eyes were always so emotional and Louis is happy that hasn’t changed.
Louis realizes that Harry’s way of saying he wants to be the most supportive figure in Louis’ life is by creating him the best suit possible. Louis realizes that he wants Harry for more than just his suit.
As Louis’ thoughts start to drown him, he pulls himself above the water, returning to reality, and lunges towards his ex-boyfriend. Harry, although shocked, instantly wraps his arms around Louis’ waist as Louis’ arms lock around his neck. When their lips meet it’s not soft, but hard and intense in all the right ways. Ten years of silence, ten years of pining, ten years of loneliness fueling the exchange.
Harry parts his lips in a whimper. Louis overtakes the kiss, turning it softer and slower, but more dirty, tongue exploring the inside of Harry’s mouth. The familiar taste makes Louis feel woozy as he bites and pulls at Harry’s lower lip, causing a surprised gasp to fall from his lips. Louis realizes that Harry’s subtly grinding against his thigh in small and slow circles.
“Baby,” Louis moans, Harry’s face automatically twisting up in pleasure, eyes closing tight, nostrils flaring. “C’mon, baby.”
Louis guides Harry to the couch, lips never breaking. Louis is too desperate for Harry’s touch to let their lips part. When the back of Harry’s knees hit the couch, he slowly sinks down to sit, Louis following him, straddling his waist, grinding his hips down into Harry’s as he settles himself. This pulls another moan out of Harry and Louis is glad that Serena is out of the studio on her lunch break.
Louis’ hands travel across the expanse of Harry’s back, letting himself feel the muscles there. He pulls his hands up to Harry’s hair, letting his fingers pull at the knots, knowing how much Harry enjoys it. At one rough tug, Harry pulls his lips away from Louis’ to tilt his head all the way back to release a deep moan. Louis’ lips slide down the column of Harry’s throat, nipping and licking at the skin.
Harry’s own hands are now roaming around Louis’ body, nails scratching at his back through his t-shirt, fingers grabbing at the skin around his hips, palms squeezing his arse. Louis lets out one particularly loud moan of his own as Harry lightly spanks his right cheek, followed by a hard squeeze.
“Baby, let me touch you,” Louis demands. Harry nods, eyes wide, pupils blown.
They decide to forget about the suit for a few minutes, hands otherwise occupied.
9 February 2017
“Can I take you out for dinner tonight?”
“Louis, you know I have to finish this by tomorrow for the final fitting. And you fly out on Saturday at noon.”
Louis shrugs, then remembers Harry can’t see him. “H, I know you’ve been losing sleep over this fucking suit. Give your fingers a rest and just have dinner with me. You don’t even have to spend the night, I can have the driver drop you back off at the studio so you can pull an all-nighter sewing… again .”
Harry sighs into his phone.
“I know it needs to be perfect, and I know it will be. Just please take a break. For me?”
“Also, we should talk about what happened yesterday.”
“Well, I can’t deny that,” Harry laughs. “What time should I be ready?”
Louis squeals in happiness. “I’ll pick you at six! Text me your address.”
“Sure thing. See you then, Lou.”
Louis spends the whole afternoon getting ready for his date with Harry. He makes sure he washes his hair, shaves, and even puts on clean pants - the ones that are a tad bit tight but make his arse look phenomenal. He sorts through his closet nervously, always a little self-conscious when choosing his clothing when he knows he’s going to be with someone with a superior fashion sense. He finally settles on black skinny jeans, rolled up to show his ankles, a plain black t-shirt, and a navy blue striped bomber jacket with green inside lining.
Louis nervously shuffles from foot to foot outside of Harry’s door. He fiddles with the sleeve of his jacket, tugging on it so there are no wrinkles. He runs his hand through his fringe yet again, making sure it’s perfect. Taking a deep breath, he lifts his fist and knocks on Harry’s door.
“One moment!” he hears Harry call out.
The next thing Louis knows, the door’s swinging open revealing an impeccably styled Harry. Louis’ eyes wander over the boy - man - in front of him. As expected, his legs are suffocating in his tight black jeans, but his shirt is unbuttoned to the halfway point, letting at least his chest breathe. His shirt dark blue, similar to the blue Louis is wearing, but it’s patterned with large, beautiful red roses. Harry tugs on a simple black blazer as Louis finishes checking his outfit out.
His eyes finally find Harry’s face and he’s blushing pretty hard, cheeks rosey. His hair isn’t as wild and unruly as he lets it get when he’s working in his studio, but it’s an artful and perfect kind of messy.
“You look absolutely… s-stunning,” Louis stutters, trying to push the words out.
Harry bites his lips, face flushing a deeper pink. “You too, Lou. I’m impressed,” he winks.
“C’mon baby, the car’s waiting.”
10 February 2017
The kitchen tile is cold under Louis’ bare feet but the air is warm and thank god for that because Louis would prefer not to freeze his arse off in just his pants, thank you very much. He makes his way around the kitchen, scratching lazily at the dusting of hair under his belly button.
Louis surveys the kitchen and finds a little note taped to his fridge. It simply says “good luck xx” and Louis automatically knows Niall and Liam left it there yesterday before he kicked them out so he could get ready for his date.
Smiling, Louis removes the note from the fridge and crumples it up in his fist and tosses it into the bin. He makes his way around the countertop, filling the kettle and allowing it heat up. He pulls out a box of cereal before deciding to reach for the carton of eggs in the fridge instead.
Little buzzing sounds interrupt him as he’s pouring the hot water for the tea and Louis realizes it’s his cell phone vibrating on the kitchen island. He carefully sets the kettle down and reaches for his phone, wondering who the fuck would be calling him at five in the morning.
“Niall, what do you want? Do you know how early it is?” Louis whisper shouts into the phone.
“Of course I know how early it is, but I always know you’re up this early when you have someone stay over.”
Louis freezes. How does Niall know? Shit . He most certainly didn’t text Niall or Liam during last night and he’s positive Harry would not have let it slip. They promised each other to keep it on the down-low.
“Calm down, loverboy. I took a guess and you answered my call, confirming my guess.”
Louis sighs. Good. So nobody ratted them out.
“Are you sure you want to do this, though?”
Louis sits down on one of the stools at the counter, abandoning the eggs and the tea he was preparing, and lets out a deep sigh. “Niall, you know I never truly gotten over my feelings for Harry. You know I haven’t dated or slept with another man in the past ten years. I was certain I was going to live the next ten like that too, and then the next ten after that.” Niall lets out a sad whimper at that.
“But you know what, Niall? I still have feelings for him. Harry still has feelings for me. Trust me, I made sure we put all our cards on the table before I invited him back into my bed.”
Louis hears noise from above, meaning Harry is probably stirring in his bed and is close to waking up, finally noticing Louis’ warmth is missing. He rises from his seat and starts cooking eggs for them.
“So are you boyfriends?”
“I don’t think so. Not yet, at least, but one day. Soon, hopefully.”
“I want you to be careful. I want the both of you to be careful. I understand that you have all these unresolved feelings that have just been hanging in the air for ten years, but remember that you have changed a lot in the last decade and so as Harry.” Niall pauses, letting Louis gather his thoughts. “Don’t expect him to act like the 2006 Harry you were in love with.”
Louis smiles guiltily to himself. He admits that in the beginning, when he first walked into Harry’s studio a few days ago, that he hoped they could pick up right where they left off at, but he soon realized that it was impossible. There’s a whole bunch of new things Louis has to take the time to learn and relearn about Harry. It was particularly shocking last night in bed, seeing the beautiful, handsome man Harry had turned into under all those fancy clothes. Louis took forever simply exploring Harry’s body and relearning all the things he loves, all the things that give him pure pleasure.
Louis also has to come to terms with that fact that he’s not 2006 Louis; that he’s much more complex now. Louis silently vows to have a serious conversation with Harry about his Post-Harry Summer 2006 Depression. Maybe he’ll unearth all those old leather bound journals in that shoebox in this closet. Maybe. One day.
“I think we got this, Niall. We had a good, adult conversation over dinner last night. It was great.”
“Good, mate. I’m happy for the both of ya.”
“Niall…” Louis pauses, swallowing hard. “I’m still in love with him. It scares me a little bit and I obviously don’t want to dive into this headfirst and possibly screw it up. But. I’m still in love with Harry.”
Louis hears a tiny gasp from behind him and looks over his shoulder to find Harry standing naked in his kitchen doorway, eyes watery and mouth open.
“Niall. I have to go,” Louis rushes. He presses the End Call button before Niall can even process his words and turns to fully face Harry.
Louis smiles weakly and shrugs. “I still love you, H.”
Harry lets out a sob, tears falling down his face.
“Oh, baby, come here.” Louis opens his arms, allowing Harry to fall into his warm embrace. “I hope it’s okay with you, baby - that I still love you.”
Harry furiously nods into Louis’ shoulder. “I still love you too, Lou.”
Louis pulls Harry in for a fierce kiss, feeling like every inch of his skin is on fire, his heart racing in his chest.
11 February 2017
It’s only a plane ride. Louis has been on tons of plane rides before. He’s never had this kind of nervousness, this type of anxiety coursing through his veins before. It feels weird and it’s unsettling. His leg is bouncing up and down, mind too unsettled to notice the nervous tick. He hasn’t even gone through security yet, his behaviour is totally uncalled for.
He pulls out his phone and peeks at his lockscreen, checking for any unread messages, which he has none of since he has been compulsively checking every three minutes. He unlocks his phone and opens the messages app anyway, rereading the last conversation he had with his mother. Her well wishes and messages of good luck making him feel a tiny bit less on edge.
He looks around the airport at all the families and travelers gathered. What looks to be a single dad is trying to wrangle his two children who are running around in circles. An important business woman is having a heated discussion on her cell phone. There’s a Starbucks to his left, the bitter smell of coffee actually a little bit comforting. On his right is a bookstore that Louis has no intention of stepping foot in. He can see the security line he needs to join in just under ten minutes from where he’s sitting.
Louis runs his hand through his greasy hair, tousling his fringe so it sits better on his forehead. He chose to wear his comfiest Adidas joggers and hoodie for the flight, but he’s still too antsy for his own liking.
Finally, Louis sees Harry walking towards him, returning from the bathroom. Harry automatically picks up on Louis’ unease, his smile transforming into a frown as he settles down into the seat next to Louis.
“Everything okay, babe? You’re not afraid of flying, are you?” Harry asks, eyebrows raising. He places a hand on top of Louis’ knee to settle it, stopping the mindless bouncing. Louis blushes as a chill sweeps over his body, the hair on his arms standing up and goosebumps forming from Harry’s simple, yet intimate touch.
“I’m fine with flying,” Louis replies shortly, gnawing on his lower lip.
“What’s wrong then?”
“I’m just really, really nervous for tomorrow,” Louis admits quietly, looking away, ashamed.
Louis is ashamed to admit it, but he’s nervous for the award ceremony tomorrow. He’s scared for the red carpet, for all the exposure it’s going to give him and for all the exposure the nomination will give him, even if he doesn’t walk away with the win. It’s all very daunting. It’s new, exciting, but also proper intimidating.
“Oh, Lou,” Harry sighs. He turns his body to fully face Louis and gets Louis to look right back at him. “You’ll do fine. It is your first nomination. A lot of people are going to be impressed with you and they’re going to want to talk to you. Take it in stride, babe. You’re pretty important.”
Louis blushes. “All my friends and family are rooting for me to win. What if I don’t win?”
Harry smiles sadly. “The world will keep spinning. There’s always next year,” Harry giggles as Louis playfully hits him on the arm. “Seriously, Lou. Don’t be disappointed. I know you have great sportsmanship and I know you can handle yourself, but just don’t get too upset.”
Louis knows Harry’s right. Louis knows it’s a longshot for him to win, but he also does a chance to win. There’s no need to work himself up over this. He’ll go, have fun, make friends, and looking stunning in Harry’s suit.
Harry looks across the airport at the security line. “It’s getting pretty crowded. You should go get in line.”
Louis looks at Harry - looks into his eyes. He sees reassurance in the beautiful green irises along with overwhelming amounts of pride. Harry’s proud of Louis. Louis swallows down a lump in his throat, and demands his eyes to stay dry.
“Thank you for supporting and helping me out this week, Harry. It… It was unreal. I can’t believe Niall and Liam were planning this whole thing out,” Louis chuckles.
Harry smiles softly at Louis. “Go blow them all away, babe. I’ll be waiting for you when you come back. We’ll have tons of celebratory sex,” he winks.
Louis lets out a loud cackle. “Oh, baby. What if I don’t win?” he giggles.
“Consolation sex?” Harry suggests, with a smirk on his face and a shrug of his shoulders.
Louis lets out another loud laugh. “I love you so much.”
Harry goes soft. “I love you too. Now go get ‘em.”
Louis gathers his carry on and leaves Harry with a kiss to the lips. And his forehead. And both cheeks.
What? He’s too irresistible to not kiss a hundred times, over and over again.
12 February 2017 - 59th Annual Grammy Awards
The lights are hot, the carpet under his feet more plush than expected. Cameras are everywhere and so are the fans. Oh and other famous people. They’re literally everywhere . It’s a little overwhelming.
“So Louis, how does it feel to be up for your first Grammy?” the reporter asks.
Louis laughs, throwing back his head. The woman who asked seems a little affronted, but Louis is quick to clarify. “You wouldn’t know how many times I’ve been asked that question!”
She laughs with him. “Well we are all so curious!”
“Honestly, it feels great. Very exhilarating and insane. Never would’ve thought this would have happened to me in a million years. So, yeah.”
“Well, Louis, you are a very talented and sought-after songwriter.”
Louis blushes. “You’re being too kind, love.”
“So who are you wearing tonight? May I say that you look absolutely spectacular.”
“Thank you, thank you.”
“This look is so unique and beautifully crafted. I might even say the best look here,” she winks.
Louis smiles, letting the expression take over his whole face. He has been given many, many compliments so far as he walks down the red carpet. Louis knows he looks good, but he is also so proud of Harry for creating such a beautiful suit and for styling him impeccably. Harry not only hand-crafted and tailored Louis’ suit, but he also made the simple black button-up underneath it, chose his accessories and shoes, and set Louis up with his close friend Lou so she could style Louis’ hair the exact way Harry wanted it.
He smooths his hands over his thighs. The cigarette trousers, made of the premium navy stretch wool he and Harry had picked out during their shopping trip, wrap around Louis’ arse and thighs perfectly, showing off his best assets. The hem stops just before Louis’ bare ankles, showing them off. Harry chose a plain pair of black Oxfords for Louis to wear along with a watch on his left wrist from Harry’s personal collection. Harry instructed Lou to style Louis’ hair in a quiff, hair standing tall and off his forehead. Harry swooned when Louis texted him a selfie, saying the style displayed his cheekbones exquisitely.
However, the prized article of Louis’ outfit, the one piece Harry spent hours upon hours slaving over, is the blazer . It’s made of the same navy fabric as the trousers, with a green lining on the inside . Harry’s craft is truly brilliant because it’s tailored perfectly to hug his hips and waist in the sexiest way possible. But the most beautiful thing about the blazer is the hand -embroidered botanical pattern that covers every inch of it. The minimal black stitching that make up the various flowers and leaves are the perfect contrast to the navy fabric. The embroidery simply glows underneath the heavy lighting.
It’s the perfect mixture of Harry and Louis’ aesthetics and Louis couldn’t be any more prouder than he already is to wear it down his first Grammys red carpet.
“Thank you, thank you. It’s by Stylx.” The reporter’s eyes go wide, knowing the exact brand Louis is talking about.
“Tell me, Louis, who is the mysterious Stylx?!”
Louis laughs. “They’re a good friend.”
“Well they must be! They created you the most beautiful suit here tonight. This embroidery is beautiful.”
“Isn’t it? And it’s all done by hand. Stylx hand-embroidered the whole blazer.”
This fact seems the blow the reporter away, and every other reporter he talks to along the red carpet. After a few more minutes of polite questioning about his song that’s nominated he says his goodbyes and heads inside the theater to settle into his seat and mingle as the night begins.
One Year Later
10 February 2018
“Hey, baby, listen to this!” Louis calls out, phone illuminating his face in the dim morning of the bedroom. He’s currently burrowed under the duvet on Harry’s side of the bed since the sheets are warmer.
“Wha?” Harry mumbles back, mouth currently occupied by toothpaste and a toothbrush.
Louis clears his throat. “It has been rumored that the mysterious fashion designer and owner of world-renowned brand Stylx will be attending the 60th Annual Grammy Awards. It is unclear if Stylx will attend solo or with a date, but here’s hoping we’ll be able to spot whoever they are from a mile away with how impeccable and trend-setting their designs are.” Louis snorts. “They need to stop blowing air up your arse, baby. You’re not that amazing.”
Harry rinses out his mouth and returns to bed, his cold bare skin shocking Louis as he cuddles up next to him under the covers. “Keep reading,” Harry prompts as he snuggles into Louis’ chest. Louis wraps his arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders, fingertips dragging lightly against the bare skin of Harry’s bicep.
“Stylx rose to popularity in 2011 when a select few Best Dressed celebrities were found wearing the unknown designer’s looks on multiple red carpets. The show-stopping unique creations brought many curious stars to seek out the mysterious designer who has yet to reveal his or her identity. One of the brand’s most recent creations could be found on Louis Tomlinson at the 59th Annual Grammy Awards last year. This year we’re looking forward to seeing if Tomlinson will finally come away with the win and what he will wear - another Stylx creation? Hopefully!”
Harry giggles. “Tomorrow is going to be so much fun.”
Louis chuckles in response and kiss Harry’s forehead. “C’mon, baby. We got a plane to catch.”
Louis pulls himself out of the bed to get ready for their flight to the States, but Harry grabs him by the wrist first, pulling him into a breath-taking kiss.
“I love you,” Harry whispers.
“I love you, too,” Louis sighs.
11 February 2018 - 60th Annual Grammy Awards
“Lou… I’m scared,” Harry admits as a whisper into Louis’ neck. They’re up next to get out of their car and start their trek down the red carpet. Louis can already see the sea of flashing lights through the tinted windows.
Louis understands Harry’s fear and apprehension. He’s been purposely hiding his identity for his whole career. He’s never been in the eye of the media and now he’s stepping straight into the heart of it and all for Louis. Fuck, Louis is so proud of him.
Louis spent a while trying to convince Harry to finally reveal himself. He insisted that Harry needed to be praised for his clothes and designs in person, rather than reading about it in articles or hearing about it on television.
When it was announced that Louis was nominated for Song of the Year for the second year in a row, he knew Harry just had to attend as his date, not only to gain recognition for his clothing, but also because the song up for the award was basically written for and about Harry.
The couple were disappointed when Louis didn’t win last year, but Louis’ red carpet appearance brought more attention to Louis’ song writing abilities and even more attention to Stylx. The whole world was blown away by the hand-embroidered blazer.
Their door opens, the driver clearing his throat and prompting Harry and Louis to exit with a gruff, “Mr. Tomlinson, Mr. Styles.”
Louis slides out of the car first into a sea of screams and bends down to take Harry’s hand, helping his boyfriend out of the car. They stand facing each other, smiling like total losers as they take in the other’s appearance. Louis’ hair is in a quiff (per Harry’s request) and Harry’s short hair has grown a considerable amount in the past year so he’s supporting beautiful soft developing curls.
Louis’ eyes roam over Harry’s perfect look, designed by him, for him. The golden floral of the blazer matching perfectly to his gold heeled ankle boots, making him already taller than necessary. The black button-up underneath is simply there just to make the blazer stand out as the main piece of the look. Harry’s trousers are a deep black that wrap tightly around his thighs and calves. Louis is always baffled by how he can fit himself into them.
Louis catches Harry’s eyes as he does one last look over his boyfriend. Louis is, obviously, wearing a Stylx creation, one that Harry created to compliment and match his own look tonight. Louis’ blazer is a silver metallic that matches his custom made silver metallic Oxfords. The hems of his trousers are rolled up to show off his sockless ankles.
The two of them together make a quite a couple. Just ask anyone. They charm their way through interview after interview. Answering simple questions. Harry blushes each time he’s introduced as Louis’ boyfriend. They seem to be the most sought-after couple to be interviewed the whole night. Harry’s anonymity piquing everyone’s curiosity, as well as the fact that they’re both donning Stylx suits. They wait until the right moment to reveal who Harry really is, though.
They’re almost to the doors of the theater when Harry sees a reporter for GQ. He gives Louis a look, knowing exactly what to do.
Back home, Stylx has been in talks with British GQ to negotiate a full collaborative line, runway show, and magazine feature. Harry is very excited for the deal to go through and he feels that letting them get the exclusive story on who the man behind Stylx is will be a step in the right direction. Louis is so proud of his boyfriend. He’s creative, driven, hardworking, intelligent. He’s the most artistic person he knows, but also the best businessman he knows.
“Louis!” the reporter for GQ calls out. “Can we have a moment?”
Louis squeezes Harry’s hand, guiding him to the side where the reporter is standing, microphone ready and camera rolling. “Of course, of course! How’s it going, mate?”
“Good! I’m Tyler, from GQ. How are you doing tonight and who have you brought with you? Also who are you wearing? May I say you both look stunning!”
Harry blushes and nods in thanks, Louis tightening his grip.
“We’re very well, thank you. This is my boyfriend, Harry.”
Harry offers his hand, which Tyler shakes. “Harry Styles. ‘S nice to meet you. We’re both wearing Stylx.” Harry’s cheeks turn a deep red and he bites his lower lip, extremely shy yet excited for what he’s revealing.
Tyler chuckles. “Absolutely amazing! Stylx never ceases to impress us here at GQ. But what a coincidence, huh? Harry Styles. Stylx.”
Louis smiles brightly, eyes crinkling in the corner. He lets out a tiny laugh along with Tyler and whispers, “Not really.”
Tyler, confused, yet curious, raises his eyebrow. “What do you mean, Louis?”
Harry bites his lip, trying to not let a wide grin take over his face. “It’s not really a coincidence, ‘s what he’s saying. I mean, it’s also not really a coincidence that my own brand is just my last name with an X on the end of it rather than the S.”
Tyler’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, slowly catching on. “Styles. Stylx.”
Harry nods, offering his hand yet again. “Yes, hello. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Harry Styles, creator, owner, and designer of Stylx.”
Louis squeals in delight on the inside. He’s so proud of Harry. After many, many months of arguing, of weighing the pros and the cons, he’s finally just so happy to see Harry own up to his empire.
Under the lights of the red carpet, Harry is absolutely stunning. The gold blazer and the gold boots glistening, his forehead covered in the tiniest sheen of sweat. His lips are deep red from being bitten all night. Louis wants to kiss him breathless. He’s so proud and so in love. He silently thanks Niall and Liam for meddling all those months ago, he’s never been happier to be reunited with his boy.
Tyler shakes Harry’s hand in awe. He turns to the camera, jaw hanging open. “Well folks, you’ve heard it here first. Harry Styles is the man behind Stylx,” he chuckles a little. “The press has been hearing rumors all night that the mysterious person behind Stylx was going to show up today, but we never thought it was true. Wow. What an honor.”
Louis beams next to his boyfriend. “Isn’t he the most talented man ever? Honestly I should be introduced as his boyfriend.”
“Louis,” Harry whines shyly, blushing.
“You two do truly make a wonderful couple,” Tyler smiles. “Congratulations on your nomination tonight, Louis. The best of luck to you, and have a great night.”
“Thank you, we will,” Louis nods and finally starts guiding Harry into the theater to find their seats.
Word obviously spreads quickly and as soon as the couple enter the theater there are heads turning in their direction and little whispers filling the air. Louis does nothing but smile, squeeze Harry’s hand tighter, and lead his boyfriend to their seats.
They settle into their seats, near the front, close to the main stage. The first thing Louis does after his perfectly tailored trousers hit the seat is turn to his boyfriend and pull him into a slow, open-mouthed kiss.
“I’m so proud of you and I love you so much, baby,” Louis whispers when he pulls away. He showers his face in tiny little kisses, causing Harry to giggle. They’re not really into public displays of affection but Louis just can’t help himself.
“Louis,” Harry laughs. “They’re probably filming us right now, now that they know who I am.”
“Good,” Louis whispers in a growl, “then they’ll all know that this beautiful, talented man is all mine.”
Harry whines, a little turned on, to be honest, but then the lights dim and the opening number starts, pulling Harry out of his Louis-induced haze.
When Louis wins Song of the Year for “Home” he makes sure to thank his boyfriend for being his biggest supporter and for being the biggest inspiration in his life.
“I started writing songs when we, uh, broke up actually. Harry moved to New York to study fashion and I stayed in London. The teenage angst was just too much so I started song writing.” The audience laughs and standing up there on the Grammys stage, Louis’ mind flashes back to 2006. The hurt he felt back then was intense and unimaginable, but he was never without inspiration, always drawing from the time he and Harry spent together.
“I like to think that every song I write has a piece of me in it, because I draw from personal experiences. And because of this, every song I write also has a piece of Harry in it. We were each others worlds and when Harry Styles enters your world, it’s changed forever. Evidence of his presence lingers forever and that’s something special.” Louis takes a deep breath, swallowing hard. He meets Harry’s eyes in the audience. He’s still on his feet, staring intensely at Louis, tears welling in his eyes. Louis stares right back. “It’s something that I try to capture in every song that I write. That’s why I’m dedicating this win tonight to you, Harry. Thank you for coming back into my life. I know you sometimes feel lonely in the fashion world, but Harry, I’ll make sure that you’ll never feel like you’re alone. I’ll make this feel like home. Thank you.”
Louis exits the stage, knowing that this is only the beginning for him and Harry.