#lmwc

“What is so important about this party anyway?” Louis complained.

It’s that time of the year where the boys, preferably Niall by that, finds that one big party they just “have to go to”. It’s almost Halloween and Louis, in short, hates the little “holiday” where everyone dresses up as a monster or as a skanky looking nurse or bumble bee. It was already bad enough how he had to bring his sisters Trick or Treating when they were young, and now that he’s a twenty-something year old man and he’s still going out going house to house asking some stranger for candy.

“Were you even listening at all while I was explaining?” Niall asked, his Irish accent thick and barely there clear enough to hear what words are coming out of his mouth.

“Actually no, I wasn’t.” Louis said bluntly.

Niall huffed out in aggravation, mumbled “I give up on this guy,” and dramatically fell on the couch next to Liam, who started petting his blonde locks like how he does when he pets Loki.

“Louis,” Liam explained, “what Niall was trying to tell you is that the party isn’t just an ordinary Halloween party, it’s a masquerade ball.”

“What’s the difference? You eat, you drink, you dance, shag someone and that’s it.” Louis said.

“Could you at least try and act like you're excited? Please Lou? For the team?” Niall begged, getting off the couch to the recliner Louis is currently sitting on, and, as always to get what he wants, gives LouBear his puppy blue eyes and his pout. “Please Louis? For me?” Niall begged.

Louis looks away from the blue ocean-like eyes and to something else in the room when he sees Zayn and Liam chuckling.

“Guys? A little help here, please?” Louis begs.

“I’m already going to the party.” Liam said.

Louis is pleading with his eyes to Zayn. He knows Zayn. He’s closest to Zayn than the other boys so he knows Zaynie could have his back no matter what.

“Zi?” Louis asked with hope in his voice.

Zayn smiled his special smile; the one when he sticks his tongue against his teeth. And Louis knows he’s up to something with that smile.

“Sorry Lou. Niall did the puppy eyes to me already and I said yea.” Zayn replied with a sheepish look. With Louis’ expression, knowing he’s going to yell out “what?! You were supposed to have my back Zaynie! I'm hurt! My heart… it hurts!” Zayn explains, “C’mon Louis, we barely go out now. Let’s just go; it can’t be that bad.”

                        ~*~

Louis hates Zayn’s guts. If he could get away with murder, Zayn Jawaad Malik will not be walking on this earth as of right now.

Here Louis is, champagne glass halfway empty in his glove-covered hand, watching everyone through his red-colored mask around him having a blast and he’s here standing on the side bored. The couple next to him must think he’s invisible for literally almost sex on the wall with their moans and groans. But Louis doesn’t care at the moment, he’s actually happy for the couple. They could get it on and Louis is just gonna be there, on the side, drinking himself until he was drunk off his ass.

Drinking the last bit of his drink, Louis walks away and goes into the depth of the party for another drink. Everyone and anyone around him are wearing their best dresses tuxedos, their masks sparkling in the light of the chandeliers, their laughter brightening the room even more. Looking at everyone else, Louis feels a little intimidated. When he sees everyone else, looking all classy and elegant and joyous and whatnot, he feels boring and dull and lifeless and… bleh.

He’s wearing some pirate-looking puffy shirt with a red vest over it. His gloves are white with the ends where his fingers are, are cut off, only stopping at the middle of all his fingers and thumb and his hair slicked back with enough of Zayn’s hair gel. With his black dress pants (he’s worn those damn pants since probably his last year in high school he supposes) and brown leather shoes polished to the tip, Louis thinks he’s average looking.

When he looks at all his friends, spotting them all too quickly, he’s a bit jealous.

Standing next to wear the drinks are, he looks with a small smile on his when he sees Niall, looking wonderful in his dark green attire and white mask with a feather on the side, laughing out loudly from a joke someone told him, with a drink (no, wait, actually… is that a whole fucking champagne bottle?) in his hand and a pretty brunette on his other hand laughing fondly with him.

Zayn is also next to Niall, looking like the beautiful, sexy Prince he is with his purple outfit on point with a few rings on his fingers and gold garments on with a slick black mask on, he also having a pretty blonde on his shoulder talking with drinks in both of their hands and laughing at Niall with his goofiness.

(Right now, Niall is just taking chug after chug after chug of his champagne where it came to the point where he laughed too hard spilling the drink all over the brunette, making her stomp off.

“Wait! Bethany, where you going babe?”

“It’s Tori dumbass!”

“Tori! I knew that! It’s the alcohol talking not me!”)

And Liam was Sophia, a girl he met when he didn’t know where else to go so he followed Liam everywhere he went, which meant bumping into Sophia and the two started hitting it off with Louis being the third fucking wheel. Liam was wearing a navy blue suit with a gold mask on, no one knowing why he did such an uncoordinated color mix of blue and yellow (gold, whatever, doesn’t matter.)

With a huff, Louis took another glass of champagne with a huge gulp. Turning around, Louis, as a matter of fact, has never seen anyone as gorgeous as this tall, bright, and beautiful as the man that’s in his vision.

As far as Louis could tell, this guy is the only one who doesn’t have a mask on. His hair is curly all around and long as toward his shoulders, tall as the empire fucking building, a smile with dimples deep in his cheeks; just something to die over looking at, and by the looks of it, has a good personality for making a group of people around him laughing heartedly to whatever he was saying.

Maybe I should go over and say hi, Louis thought.

No, you'll look ridiculous! That has to be the most common thing everyone does!

Louis shakes his head. Of course, at a time like this (a little bit of alcohol in his system making himself think too hard) he can't even go to a guy and just have a normal conversation.

So, Louis suggests he should try and look around for something to do other than stare at this guy and wondering how he would be like without his shirt and vest.

Ooh, I bet he’s fit… I could just tell by the way how…

“I need another drink.” Louis mumbled to no one in particular. Taking another last sip of his drink, he walks away… without having one last glance at the guy.

But suddenly realizing that when he did, the curly haired one was already looking his way, making Louis scamper away and the tall one to smile a whole lot bigger

~*~

Louis has had enough. He danced half the time with Niall and helping him down two bottles of champagne, talking mildly with Liam about God knows why (Louis wasn’t paying any attention) and went outside with Zayn for some fresh air.

But while Louis was doing all of this, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that someone was watching him. He kept looking around for the source but couldn’t find out what it was.

Maybe it’s just me, Louis thought, shaking off the feeling and returning back to what he was doing.

~*~

Looking at the time, it was nearing three in the morning. Louis knows for a fact that he is going to have a serious headache until he goes home with the others.

Niall decided to stay after the whole party ends so he could say his farewells to the host of the party. Liam was outside with Sophia with Zayn by his side, and Louis was sitting at one of the sitting tables waiting for Niall to come.

After all that time, Louis didn’t see the stranger. Of course, he told himself to not get over his head that he’’ see the stranger and, just like in those cheesy romantic movies, goes to up to him, kisses him hard on his lips and say, “Hi.”

With a small huff and after playing with the confetti that was on the table, Niall finally came and they both walked out the front doors to their waiting friends.

“So, I just got invited to my friend’s Christmas party and you and the boys are all invited.” Niall said excitedly.

“Whoopee.” Louis said plainly, still a bit mad that he didn’t go talk to the beautiful man. But to take his mind off of him, he sees Niall holding a rose and a card. “Who’s that from?”

Niall looked confused at first but looking where Louis was staring at, he finally remembered.

“Oh yea. My friend wanted me to give you this. Said someone wanted him to give it to you but he didn’t really know you well so he just wanted me to give it to you instead.

Going up to the car park and to Niall’s vehicle, Niall gave Louis the things and he sat in the front while Zayn and Liam were in the back and Niall driving.

The rose is real. Louis thought. Fresh, actually.

Putting the rose in his lap, he opened the card and it read:

As far as I know, you seem the type of person to not let anyone get in your way. You're your own person and that’s what I love about people, not that I'm saying ‘I love you’ but that could wait a little more time after we know each other.

See you at the Christmas party

Harry

The old Moyres castle looks different at night. It’s tall and rough walls stand ominously in the dark while the moon’s glow casts shadows in the garden and plays with silhouettes of the trees. The closed windows and big oak doors seem impenetrable and unwelcoming to any passers-by. The castle is surrounded by a thick forest and the garden flowers and bushes have all wilted with the first harsh wind in early October. It looks abandoned and forgotten.

But it isn’t.

If it were then Louis Tomlinson wouldn’t be invited to the charity event in the infamous castle. The castle looks softer and habitable in the early morning or in the late evening, but at night it is as if it radiates danger and fear. Suspicious sounds and wind howling don’t make it any better too. Louis could swear he heard scratching outside of his room in the dead of the night. But then again he was fed by ghost stories from his co-workers and Stan in the two weeks after he was given the assignment and it might have gotten into his head.

Louis is not a child. Nor is he scared of some odd noises at night and tricks his mind makes when there isn’t enough light. He refuses to succumb to such inhibitions. It was probably the rapidly growing Halloween mood that was capturing the place as the end of October neared.

So, he will rise to the challenge that is ahead of him: attend the charity ball hosted by the Moyres castle owner, Aidan Allen.

When Mr. Allen first bought the castle and turned it into a hotel, almost every Scottish newspaper and MP had an opinion on it. They mostly accused Mr. Allen of turning Scottish heritage and history into a tourist attraction, a cheap and easy way to make money while simultaneously stomping on everything the old Moyres castle represented to Scotland. It didn’t help matters that Mr. Allen grew up and spend most of his life in Lincoln, England.

“English bastard.” Many people said when Louis asked around for their opinion on the man. It didn’t matter that Mr. Allen had a Scottish mum and learnt about Scottish history and customs since he was a little boy.

Nevertheless, Mr. Allen tried all he could to bring tourists and foreigners to Scotland and to the Moyres castle. It was on an isolate place, few miles away from a cliff and in a thick forest. Despite that, the road to the castle was mostly passable and many people from England and Ireland spent their summer holidays in cool and wet Scottish weather. Several years passed since the accusations in the newspapers and everybody got used to Mr. Allen and new addition to their tourist attractions. Since then nothing major was heard about the hotel and castle, and Mr. Allen decided to host a charity ball and invite most of the important men in tourism and the press. To Louis’ annoyance, it was a fancy costume event. With masks and all.

  “Mr. Tomlinson!” Mr. Allen almost shrieks when he sees Louis enter the grand ballroom. He walks briskly across the room to Louis and shakes his hand harder than needed. “Welcome, welcome! Please, join us! Have a drink!” Aidan Allen is a tall, skinny thirty two year old with big rectangular specks on his nose. He was wearing purple Renaissance-in-Venice inspired suit with white mask entangled in his black hair.

He pulls one of the waiters by the sleeve and offers Louis champagne. Louis brings it quickly to his lips and the sparkly drink tickles Louis’ nostrils at which he frowns.

“Mr. Allen, you’re not trying to get me drunk, are you?” Louis smiles lopsidedly and gulps. It automatically fizzles down his throat and Louis reaches for another offered to him again by Mr. Allen.

“My intentions with you, Mr. Tomlinson, are strictly businessy.” He grins at Louis, “I want you to fully enjoy the ball and write the best impressions of it. If I have to loosen you up a little with my champagne, it won’t be so bad?” Mr. Allen answers and clicks his own slim glass against Louis’.

It would probably be better if Louis were at least a little drunk. Louis’ best work happens if he’s at least a little drunk or high and Mr. Allen, after all, put a lot of hope in Louis to report only the best things about his hotel and future plans in the Guardian. Louis assumed it was why he got the best room which the most magnificent view on the premises. Louis didn’t intend to lie and write rubbish about the castle in the first place because he genuinely liked everything he saw so far, but it wouldn’t hurt to milk his host’s good nature some more. If he works this well, he just might get free seven day holiday in the Moyres castle.

“Please, you can go around, mingle with the other guests and drink as much champagne as you want.” Mr. Allen says, clapping his hands in enthusiasm, “I’ll be right back.”

Louis finally moves from the side of the entrance and walks fully into the room, looking around. No expenses were saved in the décor. Thick red velvet curtains hung from the long windows reached all the way to the floor, tables clad in white silken tablecloths were spread close to the walls and windows to make room in the middle for dancers. Crystal chandeliers hanged from the high ceiling over the crowd. One wide wall was covered with large silver mirrors. Quartet in the corner of the room was playing some familiar classical piece that Louis couldn’t name.

It was all so posh and too extravagant for his liking. Forced and unnatural. Louis grabs another glass from a silver platter and puts his black mask on. In case Mr. Allen returns and wants to drag him in conversation again.

People milled around, dressed in various rich costumes and only some wearing masks. Louis recognised the local MP and few sportsmen who grew up here nearby. One occupied table laughs uproariously, startling Louis from his observations. In the corner he spots a TV crew dressed in simple suits and ties, carrying big black camera and a microphone.

So, it will be televised as well, Louis thinks as he grabs a canapé from another waiter’s platter. Mr. Allen thought of everything. He was just about to walk around to find his seat, when he spots a lone figure leaning against the thick curtains and looking his way. Half his face is obscured by a rich black mask embroidered with silver and he is wearing black suit and a white shirt with ruffles around his neck. He looks as if he entered from a previous decade, his clothes were that authentic. Louis looks back at his covered face, trying to figure out if he knows the man who was so attentively staring at him. He couldn’t place the soft brown locks and lean body with a name. Stranger’s plump rosy lips were curved into a smug grin.

What was Mr. Allen’s policy about getting frisky between the sheets? Suddenly, it was very hard for Louis to find a good reason to deny the man anything.

He walks casually across the room, going in zigzags while avoiding dancers that danced freely to something that reminded Louis of Beethoven’s Fifth, and he finally approaches the mysterious man. He gets a better look at the man’s clothes and face with each step. He must be very into this kind of stuff because no one in the room cared enough to have genuinely authentic robes. And is that a cape?

“Hello.” Louis says and looks up into the stranger’s eyes. He is a bit taller than him and it made Louis more excited and determined to woo the man who had his eyes on him.

“Good evening.” Stranger says with a deep raspy voice which makes Louis dizzy and stands up straighter. More inches on Louis. He put his hands behind his back, like a proper-behaving schoolboy. “Are you enjoying your evening?”

Louis swivels with his last drops of champagne in his hand, smiling flirtly. “I guess. If the food wasn’t so good and drinks weren’t going around constantly, I’d be on my way out.” Louis leaned on his right leg and cocked his hip out, assuming what Stan claims to be his ‘flirty stance’. He taps gently with his fingers on his crystal glass, eyeing not so subtly the man in front of him.

“What about you? Are you charmed by Allen’s fake bling?” he asks him. The man tips his head curiously to the side.

“By what?”

“Bling. Luxury. Posh rich people with their fancy clothes and charity events they throw every once in a while because they have nothing better to do.” Louis answers and eyes carefully the man. He didn’t look like he was some banker’s or five star hotel manager’s son, but what the hell Louis knew. These days you can’t assume anything. Last he wanted to do was insult the man before brining him (hopefully) back to his room.

“Oh.” Stranger blinks in surprise. “No, no. I’m here for the food and drinks, too.”

Louis smirks. He is obviously lying. Or he is crashing the party and didn’t want to bring too much attention to himself. Whatever brought him here, Louis is thankful for it.

“I like that in a man.” Louis says and extends his hand. “I’m Louis.”

“My name is Harry. Harry Styles.”

  After just half an hour in Harry’s company, Louis was properly charmed. Which wasn’t going according to his original plans of seducing and dumping but Louis appreciated his company before the main event of the night starts. Harry is witty, observant and a bit of a slow talker. He sometimes talks around before coming to the main point to his story, some of his jokes are ancient and unfunny that Louis has to laugh. He is extremely polite but cheeky as well. He also noticed that Harry was raised quite conservatively, if the way he carried himself was anything to judge by. He looked at Louis like he sprouted two heads when he talked about new TV series he was watching and several times he used words such as ‘buck’, ‘mooncalf’ and ‘scapegrace’.

Right before he asks Harry to take a walk with him in the garden so he could have a smoke, he thinks absentmindedly in the middle of one of Harry’s stories about the hotel (he lives nearby and visits the place often since he was a child, Louis found out) that he really likes Harry. He is a strange lad but lovely. It’s as if Louis is a honey bee and Harry is a flower and suddenly they were attracted to each other, complimenting and filling, enjoying each others company.

Harry takes the offer for a walk enthusiastically which Louis certainly did read as a sign to raise his game in blatant seduction in the garden. Louis is a romantic at heart.

They walk slowly on the gravel path between naked hedges and rose bushes, while Louis lights up his cigarette in the cold of the night, sucking greedily at it. Wind messes lazily with their clothes and pinches their cheeks, adding to the peculiar spirit of the Halloween night.

“Jesus, I thought England was bloody cold, but nothing beats fucking Scotland.” Louis says conversationally, tugging the collar of his suit jacket and stuffing his free hand under his armpit. Harry didn’t seem bothered by the weather conditions, and continued to walk alongside Louis.

“You’re not cold?” Louis asks him unnecessarily. Harry shook his head.

“No.”

Louis hums in interest. “It’s the cape and the thick vest that keep you warm, huh?” Harry looks down on his clothes as if he’s seeing them for the first time.

“Um, yeah. They’re…they’re quite warm.”

Louis hums again. “You look really nice, Harry. The colour and the style look great on you.” He compliments him and Harry beams at him.

“You might say it suits me. Get it?” Harry says excitedly and Louis laughs half-heartedly at the pun, flicking ash off his cigarette.

 “But really, Harry. You look like million dollars and I’m like a hobo next to you.”

Harry gasps as if Louis insulted him. “That’s nonsense! You’re dashing, Louis, the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.” He quickly assures him and Louis hides his blush puffing the cigarette smoke like a sick dragon.

“Dashing, eh? Are we in Jane Austen novel, Harry?” Louis fights back with light-hearted teasing. Harry chuckles.

“I learned that word from her. But it fits you. Dashing Louis.” Harry says, repeating the words several times as if to test them out. “I’m going to call you that from now on.”

“Shut up, Harry!” Louis protests and tries to glare as best as he can through his fond. “I’m more Loud Lou. Alliteration, Harry, is the most prized tool in a journalist’s arsenal.”

“I thought it was words. Pilling them in nice order, one after the other. You know.” Harry counters.

“That too, but alliteration makes you want to read an article. Plus, it’s fun.”

“What would I be then? Handsome Harry?” Harry asks, wiggling his eyebrows. Louis takes the bait and stands to observe him critically for a moment.

“More like Humongous Harry or Hazardous Haz.” Louis says and shakes the ash from the tip of his cigarette elegantly.

“I’m not humongous. I’m just a bit tall.” Harry says calmly, “and, um, why hazardous?”

“Because one of these days your lame jokes will kill a man. Someone might get a heart attack listening to you.” Louis says and smiles at Harry. Harry smiles back.

“You might say I tell killer jokes then.” Harry giggles and Louis rolls his eyes. They talk quietly like that for a while, walking to the end of the garden and then slowly going back. Louis tells more about himself, his family and Stan. Right now, Louis is not opposed to even try to stay in touch with Harry. He might visit him here during the holidays or Harry can come down to old London. As the time ticks by and they’re nearly at the front doors of the castle, Harry starts to fidget and lose strings of conversation.

Louis turns to him, throws the cigarette filter on the floor and squashes it with the heel of his foot. “Are you alright? You look a bit…distracted. And out there.” He leans closer and takes his hand. It was really cold and clammy.

“Harry! You’re so cold! Let’s go back inside and get you warm. I don’t want you to freeze your balls off.” Louis tugs at Harry’s hand to get him back inside the castle. Harry follows but stops right outside of the doors.

“Wait. Louis,” Harry begged and pulled Louis closer to him.

And right then Aidan Allen decided to burst through the doors, looking for Louis. “Mr. Tomlinson! There you are! I was looking all over for you.” He walks over briskly and smiles hopefully at Louis, “we are starting with bidding and the program in several minutes, come in. I don’t want you to miss it.”

Louis looks at Harry who sighs in defeat and motions with his hand to Louis to get in. “Okay. Let’s go inside.” Louis says and puts his hands in his pockets, “Do you have any more of your fantastic champagne and those little biscuits with smoked salmon? I want Harry to try them.”

Aidan beams at Louis. “Certainly! We have plenty going around.”

  Just as Louis predicted, the entire program was incredibly boring and predictable. Aidan offered few old pieces of furniture, some other hotels and businesses bid for plain coupons for either two day spa or family weekend. Add to that dull eighteenth century music in between setting another item for bidding, it was far from the ‘spectacle’ and ‘fabulous time’ Aidan promised in his invitations and paid articles in local newspapers.

Louis started to doze off in the middle of the program and only Harry’s soft comments on the furniture kept him awake. As it turned out, Harry was a party crasher since his name wasn’t written on any of the small cards neatly placed on the tables. Luckily, one of the invited people at Louis’ table didn’t show up and Louis dragged the empty chair next to his own.

“Oh, I like that one. Look, Lou.” Harry says and points to a chest of drawers that was also conveniently last item for bidding. The sudden use of a nickname didn’t startle Louis much. He was mostly pleased by it. “I had a similar one in my bedroom.”

Louis didn’t pay attention to what was going around him except for Harry so it surprised him when men and women started to get up from their tables and pair up in the middle of the room. “What…?” he mumbles and looks back at Harry who was smiling shyly.

“The program is over. Everyone went to dance.” Harry whispers as if it was some big secret.

“Oh.” Louis glances around. There were only few people still sitting at their tables and chatting. He looks back at Harry who was taking in his surroundings. Louis tugs his mask down a bit. “Hey, do you maybe want to…uhm…dance?” he offers shyly and blushes. He didn’t even know how to dance. He was acting like a school girl with a crush. Dear God. Harry nods with a brilliant smile on his face, brightly offers to lead and Louis couldn’t take it back anymore.

They hop on their feet and join the dancing crowd close to the front doors. Louis hopes that Harry knows how to lead because he is absolutely clueless. Harry gently wraps his long fingers around Louis’ waist and engulfs his other hand, propping it in the air. Louis timidly put his other hand on Harry’s shoulder. So broad, Louis thinks before Harry sways them in tune with music.

Louis was impressed to say the least. Harry moved them so gracefully in their little part of the ballroom that his feet barely touched the floor. They spin, twirl and bounce on their feet that Louis smiles wide at people around him. Look at my wonderful partner, he dares them with his eyes. Look at us. It was all so wonderful that Louis expected Harry to yell ‘It’s midnight!’ and rush out of the door any minute. But he didn’t. He stayed and danced three more songs with Louis. Louis voices his thoughts after the fourth song. Harry smiles broadly.

“I was taught since I was a child. And I watched other people.” He admits and grabs Louis’ hand again.

“You’re still cold, Harry.” Louis notes and squeezes his hand. Harry sighs.

“I’m fine. Can’t do anything about it.”

“Is it medical?” Louis inquires, “my mum told me that some people have shitty arteries or something so their hands and feet are always cold.”

Something flickers across Harry’s face. “Yeah. That’s it.”

Louis can do something about it. The wine at their dinner and the extra champagne got him a bit drunk and brave, so he leans closer to Harry. “You want to go to my room? I could keep you warm.”

Harry nuzzles into the side of Louis’ face and hums appreciatively. “Okay.”

“Mr. Tomlinson.” Aidan calls behind him. Louis groans then moves away from Harry.

“Yes, Mr. Allen?” Louis says annoyed and glares openly at the lanky man.

“Uhm…I was wondering how you’re enjoyed your evening? We’re going to finish in about an hour.” Aidan states with careful glances behind Louis.

“Well, uhm…it was good. You’re a very good host.” Relief stretches on Aidan’s face warily. “I’ll be on my way, then. If you don’t have anything else to say.”

“Certainly. See you tomorrow, Mr. Tomlinson.” Aidan says and walks back into the crowd. Louis turns to smile like a martyr and grab Harry’s hand, but there was no one behind him.

Harry was gone.

  +

  In the remaining hour of the charity ball, Louis couldn’t find Harry anywhere. He thought it will be easier once the crowd parts and stops dancing so he had a clear view around the room, but it was as if the boy disappeared into thin air. He also tried to call him around the garden – maybe he was waiting outside – but he wasn’t there either. Louis wouldn’t normally be so crestfallen over a missed opportunity and all that one night stand brings but…he wanted to be a little more with Harry. They had a good thing going.

That night when Louis lay in his bed, he remembers the weird look on Aidan Allen’s face and dreams of green eyes.

  +

  Thick fog had fallen on the premises of Moyres castle and men couldn’t see two feet in front of them. It was even dangerous to go for a hike or a walk in the woods because you could easily get lost and walk off the cliff two miles from the castle. It still didn’t stop the commotion inside the hotel/castle. Maids were clearing out vacated rooms and prepared them for new guests; chefs in the kitchen were working on breakfast, and Louis decided it will be good to go explore around the castle.

He needs to write that damn article and although the journalist in him wanted to write the truth of how horrible the charity ball was, he couldn’t get rid of Mr. Allen’s sad and excited eyes. He felt sorry for the young business man; running an old castle and trying to attract people to come and stay was a difficult feat.

So, he walks up and down the floors of the castle, trying to find anything interesting to write about, to camouflage the tragedy of the ball. So far he found lots of dust in old cupboards, moth eaten paintings and furniture older than his mum.

“Ooh, look at this fellow!” Louis says out loud, stopping in front of an oil portrait of stiff man with thick black moustache. “When was the last time you shaved, mate?” He comments, looking at him up and down. “Love the bowtie though. Very manly.” He checks beneath the portrait to put a name to the grim face. He laughs brightly when he sees it.

Harald Styles.

If he ever sees Harry again, he’ll have to show him this. This moustache face could be one of his ancestors. Brilliant, Louis thinks as he walks back to his room. He spends the rest of the day there – trying to write a perfect introduction and jot down few notes and facts in his notepad.

He doesn’t know when but he falls asleep in his chair, leaning over his papers and drooling over the notes.

Banging on his windows wake him up. Branches of the tree that is leaning right over his window are knocking (banging) persistently on the glass. Louis shook from his slumber when a particularly large branch hit his window.

“Oh, shit.” He says and walks slowly towards the ill window. He sees stormy weather outside; debris flying all over, trees leaning dangerously against the hard wind and a shower of rain. Big and thick droplets merging together in the air, almost like someone was throwing down buckets full of water. Louis shivers at the sight. Good thing I’m inside and safe, he thinks before going to turn off the lamp light on his small desk.

The light flickers ominously before turning off on itself and Louis groans. Bloody medieval castles and their electrics. He gives up on brushing his teeth in the dark and accidentally poking his eye so he unfastens his belt and slips out of his skinny jeans. He hears a soft gasp somewhere behind him and turns around swiftly raising his hands in defence. All he sees is dark. Louis suddenly regrets not taking the karate lessons with his younger sister when he had the chance. Still in his soft jumper and pants, Louis makes a careful move backwards to his bed, mentally seeking comfort in his silky and warm duvet. He doesn’t make it that far before he hears knocking on his door.

“I’m going mad.” Louis concludes and steps forward to open the door and let the midnight guest in. He encompasses the brass knob in his small hand and pulls it open swiftly, trying to scare whoever was behind that scared him half to death few seconds ago. Again, he met darkness. Louis closes the doors annoyed with the universe.

“Whoever you are, mysterious person, Halloween was yesterday. You missed the right date and I’m not in the mood for games. I’m tired and just want to sleep.” Louis says to the room in general. When no one answers him, he sighs and buries himself in his bed. He puts the duvet over his head so only his face was peeking from one side – fully protected from the monsters and invisible people that could try to get him.

As he slowly drifts off to sleep he doesn’t see a lone figure standing in the corner of the room, watching him in interest. The figure walks across the room and holds up a pen with difficulty to write three numbers on Louis’ notepad.

  +

  Louis got up early, came down for breakfast on time (for the first time in last four days since he stayed in the castle/hotel) and went for a walk on the thin gravel path that leads towards the cliff. The day was sunny and acted like the last night’s big storm didn’t even happen. Only evidence that Louis didn’t imagine it, were thick branches broken in half lying around the garden of the castle. One lonely gardener was desperately wrangling with a wood chopper and cleared out the garden bit by bit. Louis walks slowly on the path; stepping on small puddles in the dents and splashing all over like a child.

He doesn’t know for how long he walks when he comes to a clearing on the small hill the hotel is placed at and then a slope goes down with the path, revealing a beautiful view on a small village beneath. Houses were small and bunched together around a tiny square in the valley, like any small village in Scotland or in Fife particularly.

It is also the only village around here for miles. Louis thinks about Harry two nights before telling him he lives near the Moyres castle and often comes to visit. He hasn’t seen him yesterday at all and nothing indicated that will change today. Maybe I could go and try to find him, Louis questioned in his brain. What if he doesn’t want to see you, his brain says back, he left really quickly after you invited him in your room. Maybe, Louis supposes. But the image of Harry glued to his front and mouthing at his jaw told him differently. Maybe he was shy, Louis concludes, not anyone is up for one night stands or casual relationships.

Louis looks down on the village one last time and steps back.

  He is wandering the castle halls when he bumps into several guests who were just checking in their rooms and Mr. Allen – always a helpful person - was showing them the way.

“Mr. Tomlinson!” he greets cheerfully and then sets his face into professional politeness. “I haven’t seen you since the ball! Our champagne got you really good, huh? Did you sleep well?”

Louis nods confusedly. “Yeah. Uhm. I slept well.” Allen looked at him exactly like Stan sometimes did after a wild drunken night; waiting for Louis to remember all the embarrassing stuff he said or did, with a knowing smile on his face. Louis didn’t get too drunk two nights, did he? He didn’t wake with a horrible hangover in the morning; in fact he slept like a baby for the first time in weeks.

Allen answers Louis before he even asked. “You were dancing for half of the night by yourself in the ballroom. And really good may I add.” Allen abstained from snickering or smiling too much. “I take it you liked it?”

Louis blinked several times, trying to connect the dots in his head. He was dancing only with Harry that night. He doesn’t remember going back and embarrassing himself like that.

“I-I was dancing with Harry.” He laughs half-heartedly, trying to ease the embarrassing situation ahead, “I was with Harry the entire night.”

“Alright.” Allen says carefully as if Louis might jump on him any second, “well, if you need anything or just have a chat, you know where to find me!” he ushers the guests in their rooms and carries the large suitcases. Louis walks amusedly back to his room. Maybe Allen drank a bit too much at his own party. He was starting to talk rubbish. Louis closes the door of his room and leans over the hardwood desk, checking his schedule. He glances at his notepad, to see if his notes were too ruined after he slobbered all over them last night.

“What’s this?” he asks out loud and stares at three shakily drawn numbers.

104.

Did he write that last night? What could they mean? Number of guests, bottles of champagne drank, how many times Louis yawned during the program? It didn’t stand out. And it wasn’t his handwriting either, now that he looks more carefully into it. The zero is too thin and elegant, he writes his zeros round and fat – more like O’s. And the short line of the one is too close to the long line – looks like numbers from ancient files he had to tackle during his internship. Maybe Allen went in during his absence and wrote it down so Louis could remember.

I’ll ask him during his interview in the afternoon, he decides checking his schedule once more.

  Aidan Allen’s office is like a double sized cupboard if Louis wants to throw him a bone. It isn’t particularly large and all that fits in it is a solid big desk, two chairs and a slim closet with it’s doors slightly opened. All over his desk are papers and files; Louis supposes there is more of it in the closet who looks like it will burst any second.

Allen himself is not too down about it; in fact he is rather cheerful and talks a mile an hour about anything Louis asks. It’s not even that dull of a conversation as it always seemed to Louis whenever he talked with the man days before, and Allen even cracks a few jokes (funny jokes!) at his own or his staff’s expense. When he starts talking about the number of rooms the castle has, Louis suddenly remembers the odd thing in his notepad. He asks Allen about it.

“I wasn’t in your room at any time, sir.” Allen says almost apologetically, “I don’t know what it could mean. Maybe a start of an address?” he offers but Louis shakes his head.

“No. I don’t think it is. Uhm, how many guests were there at the ball on Friday?”

Aidan taps his chin in thought. “Maybe two hundred. Only few didn’t show up.” He says proudly. Louis nods and writes it down in his notepad.

“Maybe it could be a start of a phone number? You said you were with someone that night, dancing?” Allen asks carefully again, switching roles with Louis who was now the interviewee.

“Oh. Yeah. Harry. Do you know a boy who comes here often, Harry Styles?” Louis asks and waits impatiently for the answer. Maybe Allen knows more about him. But Aidan Allen shakes his head in confusion.

“No. Do you mean from the village?” at Louis’ excited nod, Allen grimaces apologetically, “Oh, I’m sorry. But no one from the village except those who work in the castle comes around. At least I haven’t seen anyone.”

“Do you know anyone of the name Harry Styles that lives there?” Louis asks impatiently, almost demanding a clear answer. Allen shakes his head again.

“I’m sorry. It is a small village and everyone knows each other so I don’t think I could’ve missed someone. Except,” Allen opened one of his drawers and Louis held his breath, “I don’t know if you’ve heard of him, but he is one of my friend’s favourite poem-writer.” Allen pulls out a small yellow paged book and offers it to Louis. “His name is Henry Styles. But everybody called him Harry.”

“Called him?” Louis mumbles and opens the book as if it will bite him. On every page there was a poem, varying in length and theme but the language was unmistakably far from the today’s English.

“Yeah,” Aidan says with a small smile on his face, “he lived in 1920’s, I think. He even stayed in our castle for several years. Brilliant, brilliant writer. Never reached a massive audience though, a shame really. He is like our own Moyres gem.” Louis was starting to shake in his seat.

“Do you- uhm – do you have a picture of him?” Louis asks shakily, gripping the frail and worn out pages of the poem book.

“I don’t think I do. But we have an oil painting in one of the halls on the second floor. If I didn’t take it down, though.” Allen answers and leans back in his chair. “Do you have any more questions?” 

“No. No.” Louis says and gets on his feet quickly, desperate to check all of the things Allen told him. “I’ll be on my way. If I need something more, I’ll come.” Louis says, with his eyes still fixed on the book and exits Allen’s office quickly.

He runs all the way to the end of the second floor and stops next to a door of a guest room. Ivory white face with accentuated rosy cheeks looked down at him. Sparkling emerald eyes stung at Louis’ skin and the luscious curls mocked him. White shirt was ruffled around his neck and he was wearing a black suit. In his right hand was tucked a black mask embroidered with silver. Louis inhaled sharply.

The oil face of Harry Styles smiled from the fake gilded frame on the wall. Louis’ knees were about to give out. He quickly checks under the portrait for a name. And then he finally fell on his knees in all consuming surprise and shock.

Henry (Harry) Edward Styles: 1902 – 1922

  Louis retreats to his room. He doesn’t bother with changing his clothes and slips into the soft cocoon of his bed. He couldn’t quite connect all of the things that he learned in the space of several days. It didn’t make sense. It all… Louis is not crazy. He is also far too young to develop some scary mental disease that includes vivid hallucinations and shakily written numbers. Maybe he’s still recovering from the scare of the previous night.

And then he inhaled and exhaled in his pillow, trying to calm himself down. Why is this such a mess? Ghosts don’t exist. Monsters don’t exist.

It’s all in Louis’ head. It must be.

But who was he dancing with on Halloween night?

  +

  Louis calls the reception and asks for a pound of salt. When the receptionist doesn’t ask why, Louis assumes he heard much crazier requests from his previous guests. Or maybe he knows what Louis is up to and doesn’t blame him in the slightest. Stupid old castles and their ghost stories.

One of the maids brings him the box with ionized kitchen salt and Louis proceeds to draw a circle in the middle of the room. He clutches the rest of the box in his hand. He breathes in deeply several times, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do.

“Uhm, I don’t know if you’re here or… I don’t know how this whole ghost thing works, but if you’re out there, come show yourself.” He tells the room and nothing happens. “Harry Styles.” He adds the name timidly. The light of his table lamp flickers where he lit it on. And then a tall figure appears next to his locked doors. Louis’ eyes widen and he gasps.

When Harry takes a step forward, a rush of adrenaline shoots through his body and only guided by pure bravery he shouts: “Stay away! I have the salt and iron, and I’ll use it on you!”

“Lou. Louis.” Harry whispers his name and looks at him with sad eyes.

“STAY THE FUCK AWAY! I’ve seen enough Supernatural episodes with my ex to know where this is going! Fuck you!”

Harry sighs and sits down on Louis’ bed. Louis tracks his movement carefully, raising the box inch by inch and threatening to fling all of his contents on Harry.

“Tell me what you want? Do I need to light your bones on fire? Will you torture me? Like you died violently and now you seek revenge? Are you vengeful spirit, Harry?” once Louis started, the questions were just firing from his mouth. Harry looks up sadly at him. He doesn’t look like a tortured spirit, Louis notices. Maybe a sad and tired spirit. He also didn’t put down the salt.

“Will you put that down?” Harry says angrily and curls into himself, “you look ridiculous.”

“The hell I will. If I move just an inch from this circle, you’ll jump on me and tear me to pieces.” Louis counters and puts some of the salt in his hand.

“You’re using kitchen salt, Louis. That doesn’t work.” Harry advises and shuffles with his feet nervously, “you need rock salt.”

Louis gulps audibly and his chest constricts. He couldn’t breathe anymore. He screwed up, he screwed up so much! What was he thinking? Ordinary kitchen salt? Of course it is rock salt.

He puts the box next to his feet. “Look, maybe you don’t have to kill me right away. Maybe, maybe we can talk and figure out what it is that’s bothering you?” Louis proposes.

“Like a therapy session, Louis? You’ll have a nice psychiatric session with a ghost? It will surely light up my spirit.” Harry giggles at his choice of words. Louis almost smiled at the pun. For a split second it seemed like a good idea to play doctor with Harry and try to not get brutally murdered at the fine age of twenty five, but when Harry says it like that… Running away is the next best option. He side steps towards the door, eyes not leaving Harry’s hunched frame on his bed.

“Will you help me?” Harry pleads with the most heart-shatteringly puppy eyes he has ever seen. The desperation and hopelessness behind his words rooted Louis to the floor.

“With what?” Louis asks, trying to offer the most sympathy for not-yet-murderous ghost. Harry hugs himself and looks on the ground next to Louis’ feet.

“You need to find my bones.”

Louis blinks. “Excuse me, what?”

“My bones. Find them and bury them.” Harry repeats slowly and stands up. Louis winces.

“How will I do that?” Louis asks and starts to shake under Harry’s gaze and height. He has never felt so small and so scared in his life. “Where even are they? They could be anywhere in the world!”

Harry smiles hopefully. He must have interpreted Louis’ words as offer to help but Louis will not correct him. There’s no reasoning with a ghost.

What is he even saying? He is literally standing in a hotel room and talking with a ghost of a Scotland ‘sheik’ about burying his bones. What has his life come to? He needs some tea. He’ll even drink some strong coffee to put his mind in order.

“It’s easy, Lou!” Harry says excitedly, “they are already in the castle! I wrote the number of the room on your papers. Look.” Harry walks away from Louis and takes his notepad. He flicks back to where the 104 was written. He shows the numbers again to Louis.

“Oh. Oh.” Louis exhales and something clicks in his mind, “did you- was it you who was in my room last night? Scaring the shit out of me?”

Harry visibly withdraws in himself, lowering his head against his chest. “I’m sorry. I popped in to get your attention and tell you about this but then you were undressing yourself and…it took me by surprise.”

Louis smiles at Harry’s bashfulness and ignores the implications that he might have given him a ghost boner. “Well, you could have done it more subtly, rather than giving me a heart attack in the middle of the night.”

“I’m sorry.” Harry apologises several more times. “Will you help me then?”

Louis weighs his options once more in his head. “If I find the time. I need to write that article still and since you didn’t try to murder me in the last few minutes, I can help you.” He says and thinks it’s the best he can offer. Harry doesn’t seem too bad. He might be dead and Louis’ chances of getting some have gone practically to zero but he supposes it’s a nice story to share with his grandkids once he’s old and everyone will think he’s senile. 

Harry smiles widely at him and cups Louis’ cheeks in his large and cold hands. “Thank you, Louis. Thank you!” he says and kisses Louis on the lips. Louis barely spares a second to get a hold of what’s happening when Harry disappears again.

  +

  Louis can’t believe he’s still finishing his article and staying at Moyres castle. He should’ve been on the first train back to London after Harry disappeared. Which he is still planning to do, and that’s why he’s making final edits and checks with Mr. Allen. It’s not that he won’t help Harry, it’s just… He doesn’t know what to believe in anymore. Harry seems like an okay ghost but part of Louis still wants to think it’s a very elaborate prank by the universe. Or Mr. Allen, if he had this kind of sense of humour.

But even Allen is a bit weird and jumpy today. Every time someone knocks on his door or passes by him he shakes and shivers. He is also a bit snappy with his employees; making remarks about unimportant things that he looked over in the past, demands everyone to be on their best with a handful of guests in the hotel. Unusual things all around.

Louis and Aidan are now sitting in his office and they talk more about the hotel and Aidan’s future plans for it. When asked specifically, he says only vague things, not anything concrete even for the upcoming spring.

Aidan glances every five minutes at his watch, obviously in a hurry or waiting for someone to arrive. Louis decides to cut it short and to finish what he needs on his way back to London tomorrow. He doesn’t want to bother the man anymore and Aidan keeps asking when the article will be published. Louis is glad he’s leaving.

When there’s a knock on the office door for the fourth time during Louis’ interview, Allen still makes the same nervous jump and rushes to open it. It’s the hotel’s manager and he greets Louis curtly.

“Well, Louis, I’ll be right out for a moment. Need to solve some things, but make yourself comfortable while you wait.” Allen was practically closing the door before he added: “There’s some wine in the drawers!”

Louis is certainly not someone who will pass the opportunity when offered some wine. He hopes it’s not white while he rummages through the top drawers. He has to push some letters and paperwork off the table to make room for the bottle and two glasses when a peculiar headline and lines of words over some documents catch his attention.

“…insurance covers all aspects from floods, snow, fire…”

“…full repayment £45 million in the span of…”

“…bill from September, August and July…”

He pushes them away and starts to fill his glass. Ah, sweet old Bordeaux. Louis barely has a sip when Harry appears next to the door. Louis is certain he would knock and use the doors if he could while being ghost - he’s that polite. Louis almost falls from Allen’s chair and secures a half full glass in his grip.

“Louis.” Harry breathes and leans over the desk. “I know what you’re doing.”

Louis tries to appear dumb. “Uhm…what? What am I doing?” He sips on his drink.

“You had the entire day to find my bones but instead you booked a train from Edinburgh to London!” Harry complains and almost knocks off the wine bottle shaking the table in his moment of fury.

“Well, actually, you don’t have a direct train from Edinburgh to London so I’ll have to change…”

“Louis!”

Louis raises his hands in defeat. “Yeah, okay. You got me. I want to run as fast as I can from you. Harry, do you see the absurdity in all this? You’re a ghost! You’re not real!”

“I am real!” Harry protests and grabs Louis’ hand. “See? Real!”

“That doesn’t mean anything! This might be a very vivid dream for all I know!” Louis tries to explain and gulps the entirety of his glass. “I might be going crazy.”

“You’re not!” Harry shouts impatiently then takes a deep breath, “You’re not.” Louis looks at him pitifully. He said all of the nasty things just to make Harry upset but Louis believes Harry is real. His touch wouldn’t be so nice (although cold) and shooting up sparks in his veins.

He has a crush on a freaking ghost.

Louis sighs and pities himself before opening his mouth. “Are you sure you need my help, love? Really, really sure?”

Harry nods and smiles shyly. “You’re the only one who can. You’re the only one who can see me.”

Louis’ eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Me? Only me? For all these years?”

Harry nods. Louis stands up and puts away the wine bottle before facing Harry again. “Well, then. You’ll have to show me what exactly you meant with that number and…yeah. Explain.”

Harry turns to lead Louis and before Louis even steps after him, he remembers. “Oh, wait. I’ll leave a message for Allen.” He fishes a clean paper under a pile of bills and extracts from the hotel’s income.

“What are you going to say? ‘Oh, sorry I didn’t stay I had to help a ghost in your castle’. He’ll never believe you.” Harry snickers and Louis shoots him a dirty look.

“Careful, Harry, or I might piss on your bones before burning them.” He says and scribbles few excuses on the paper.

Then he follows Harry in the hall (Harry goes right through them while Louis has to open and them and scowls at Harry who was smiling at him behind).

“How did you – You’re from 1910’s, right?” Louis asks and Harry nods. “Do you remember anything from when you died?”

Harry shrugs. “Not much. I lived here in the moment I died so…that’s why I’m still here I suppose.”

“That’s your unfinished business? To find and burn your bones?”

“Unfinished business?” Harry counter-asks. Now it was Louis’ turn to shrug.

“You know, ghosty stuff. Something you had to do while you’re alive so you can go on. To the other world.” Louis explains and Harry looks at him more puzzled.

“But I did everything I wanted. I wrote my poems, published them in a small journal in Glasgow and lived. I don’t know what else there is.”

“Hm,” Louis muses, “that’s interesting. Maybe your unfinished business was to meet me.”

Harry smiles widely. “It could be true. I’ve never been in love while I was alive.”

Louis halts in his step and stares at Harry. “Never? But now…”

Harry fidgets where he stood. “Yes. I’m not sure if it really is love but I’m very drawn to you. What do you say these days? I fancy you a lot.”

“Oh.” Louis says simply in lieu of actual words. “That’s…that’s nice. Thank you.”

“Yeah,” Harry laughs, “I’m sorry it is this shitty situation with me being a ghost and all but…if I was alive, I could…we could…”

“Yeah,” Louis interrupts, “maybe. I mean, Harry you’re nice, like really nice but…I prefer my boyfriends with a pulse and body heat. No offence.”

Harry frowns and crosses his arms on his chest. “No. I understand. I…let’s just go.” Harry turns down the stairs and Louis follows him.

  They walk down numerous stairs and halls, talking on minimum because Louis doesn’t want to freak people out by seeming like he’s talking to himself. It turns out the number Harry wrote is actually one of the rooms in the hotel. Louis would have never guessed that but is really glad that he doesn’t have to tread through the woods or down the cliff. The room is in the far end, in the half basement what they have at the castle. There are iron wrought double doors and walls are thick enough so nobody could hear your screams.

It unsettles Louis a bit, the thought that Harry was locked in one of the rooms and died because no one could find him. Or because someone tortured him like this on purpose. He visibly shivers before pushing the doors with iron 104 on the front right open.

The room isn’t remarkable in any way. There are several crates and empty bags scattered all over the concrete floor. There doesn’t seem to be any sign of ‘Harry Styles’ bones right here’ with flashing lights so he’ll have to look around. He upturns the crates, finds lots of matches and rope in them. None of them are bones – not even animal bones.

“I’m sorry.” Louis turns to Harry and sits on his heels, glancing over the bags and crates. “I don’t think there’s anything here. I mean, all this looks pretty new and someone would’ve found them before. I..”

“Lou, here. Look here.” Harry pointed at the canisters leaned carefully against the stone wall.

“What? There’s nothing there, just some canisters filled with…” Louis crawls on his knees to get closer and sniffs the air. “Gasoline?”

“Louis, behind it. In the wall!” Harry says and Louis crawls all the way to the wall, putting away the canisters and inspects the wall carefully.

“I don’t see anything, Haz. No dents or loose stones…oh!” He almost squeals when a large stone moves back in the wall from where he was leaning against it.

“Oh my God!” Harry says in delight and tries to help Louis with removing the stone. They toss it in the room and peek inside the hole in the wall. Harry inhales sharply when they spot a purple bag in it. Louis takes it and shakes a bit before looking inside. The bag is heavy and it rattles which makes both Louis and Harry smile.

Louis opens it and offers Harry to have a look. Without a doubt the grey sticks with knobs at the end are surely Harry’s bones. They did it! They found them!

“Louis.” Harry starts to laugh and Louis joins him. This is beyond any reason and completely absurd. Louis is so happy that he rushes forward and hugs Harry tightly.

“We did it. We found them.” He says and buries his face in Harry’s curls.

“Louis.” Harry calls and leans back. “Could you burn them now? Please?” Harry pleads him so casually as if they were heatedly discussing which movie to watch before bedtime. Louis hesitates a bit at first. “Do you want to, I don’t know, say your goodbyes first? Say a prayer?” he proposes but Harry shakes his head.

“Let’s go to the back garden.” Harry says and walks back through the door. Louis quickly takes the bag and borrows some gasoline and matches.

  It took Louis about half an hour to dig a deep enough hole in the back garden to fit all of Harry’s bones and not let any passers-by a chance to find them accidentally. When he fits them together like puzzle pieces in the hole, he looks hesitantly at Harry who was worrying his lip since Louis started digging.

“What will happen if I burn them?” Louis asks quietly, trying not to shatter the sacred moment. Harry shrugs but keeps looking at the pile of what used to be him.

“I don’t know. I go on?” Harry says it more like he’s trying to convince himself of the positive outcome than answering Louis. “It will be okay.”

Louis doesn’t believe him. As a human there’s not much that he knows about ghost rules and tradition but if he were to destroy the only thing in the world that connects Harry to the world of living, there’s a very good chance he might not see him again. It is essentially what going on means, his brain explains to him. He crouches down on the damp grass and rearranges some of the bones, preparing himself for the inevitable.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks Harry maybe for the hundredth time. He looks up at Harry and sees him making the final decision in his mind.

“Yes. Just do it.”

And Louis lights a match. He pours a generous amount of gasoline to make sure all of Harry’s bones will burn and flicks a lit up match in the hole. Flame bursts immediately in the air and engulfs everything that was left of Harry in the world. Both of them watch the bones slowly turning black and then Louis turns to Harry.

“I don’t want you to go.” He admits quietly and Harry’s eyes spark. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll be okay. You’ll be okay too.” Harry says and slowly fades in front of Louis’ eyes.

Louis doesn’t have time to grieve properly or to even shed a tear – he clutches a tiny calcium matter in his pocket and runs back into the hotel to call the police.

  +

  Louis stands in the front garden watching Aidan Allen being taken away by the police. It turns out he was trying to burn down the castle to get the insurance money because he was deeply in debt. The charity ball was supposed to be propaganda to attract potential buyers or at least investors but when it all failed, this was the last solution to his problem. It didn’t take Louis long to connect the odd behaviour of the hotel manager and all the documents he found in his office with the canisters of gasoline and matches. Louis would daresay it was a classic crime. Thanks to Harry as well; if Louis didn’t go down in the basement he would never find out what Allen planned to do. He might have died in a fire that same night.

“Mr. Tomlinson, thank you for your cooperation. I’ll see you in the police station to get a testament from you. Take care.” One of the police officers says and offers Louis a mug of hot tea. Louis was still a bit shaken from all the events but mostly because he wanted to see Harry again and tell him what happened.

Soon the police cars and the staff went away, leaving Louis alone in the garden among dead flowers and bare trees. He sighs audibly and waits.

“You lied.” A deep voice booms from behind a Juniperus bush. Louis holds his breath.

“It worked.” He says.

“And you lied.” Harry emerges from behind the bush and steps in front of Louis. He smiles knowingly at Louis and puts his hands on Louis’ where he was still holding his empty mug. “You didn’t burn my bones.”

“I did. But not all of them.” Louis says and takes a small greying stick from his pocket. It was one of the small bones from Harry’s hand. “I couldn’t just let you leave me.”

“Louis.” Harry says. And it’s all that he can say. The simple word radiates with empathy, worry and resignation. It makes Louis blossom with love.

“I’ll miss you too much. We… I lied.” Louis mumbles, “I fancy the pants off your ghost arse. You’re so wonderful, Harry. You’re good for me.”

“I’m a ghost, babe.” Harry simply says like it’s the answer to everything.

“And I don’t care.”

Harry pries the mug out of Louis’ hands and sets it down on the ground. “You’re crazy.”

“Only about you, darling Hazza.” Louis laughs and Harry’s lips curve into a big smile. But the light-hearted mood soon dissipated.

“You have to let me go.” Harry says and tightens his grip on Louis’ shoulders. “I need to go on.”

“I know.”

“Please.”

Louis takes out his lighter and dips the thin bone in lighter fluid. “I’ll miss you.” He promises and takes out a packet of matches. He lights one up slowly and sets fire to the tiny bone.

“Kiss me.” Harry says and Louis leans forward, gripping Harry by the lapels of his suit and kisses him deeply. First all that Louis can feel is the coldness of Harry’s skin but not too uncomfortable to stop kissing him. He presses bruising kisses against Harry’s lips one after another while the bone is still burning next to his mug. He then feels soft warmth on his own skin where Harry is touching him.

And then he feels a breeze on his lips.

The bone has turned black.

“Louis, you will not believe what I heard” His sister’s voice echoed through the store as the door was closed shut soundly by the wind.

“What do you want, Charlotte?” He replied in an exasperated voice. No one gets to interrupt him while he’s working, no one.

“It’s Lottie, you bum face. Anyway,” she added a brief pause, just for a dramatic effect, “Emily just told me the most marvellous news; the Duchess of Cheshire is in town, isn´t that splendid?”

Louis’ eyebrows furrowed immediately as he took in what his sister was saying. Why is Lottie so excited about nobility coming to their city? She hardly knows which county is where, let alone who the duchess is. He put down the flowers he was working with and slowly turned around to face his slightly agitated sister, “And why should that be relevant to me?”

“Well,” she said as she picked on the flowers of a small bouquet, “said duchess happens to have a really attractive son and a very charming daughter. So I thought maybe you’d be interested in her.” Lottie ended her sentence with a wink.

“Bullshit, you only want me for company while you follow that poor boy around the streets.” Louis turned back to the flowers he was working with.

“Oh come on, Louis, that only comes as a side effect. I truly, honestly, actually want to help you find a girl. Don’t you think it’s already time for you to get married? You’re not getting any younger, dear brother.” Louis couldn’t help but to huff sarcastically at that. A girl, he thought to himself, as if.

He kept his mouth closed.

Louis didn’t realize when his sister made her way to his side and started poking on his cheek. “Hey, I can see it in your face. You know you want to come with me. Pretty please?” she said while blinking repeatedly. Louis turned around to see a pout creeping on her lips.

“Do you see mum around here? No. Which means I have to look for the shop and you, young lady, should be helping me with the flower arrangements.” He finished pointing at her chest with his finger.

“Fine, but we’ll go stalk them as soon as we finish here.”

“You’re going to get us arrested.” He laughed softly, a notorious hint of fondness in his voice.

“Oh shut up and pass me the ribbons.”

***

The flower shop was a very lovely place. It’d belonged to the Louis’ mother since before he was even born, but since she gave birth to her second pair of twins and had to stay home to take care of them, Louis, Charlotte and Felicite had to take care of the shop. It wasn’t that hard really; Lottie and Felicite took turns between the shop and household duties with their mother while Louis worked as a florist fulltime. At that moment, it was only Louis and Lottie.

They worked peacefully for about an hour and a half, throwing withered petals at each other once in a while. Louis was about to call it a day and close the shop when he heard the door opening. He was too busy tying up a bunch of flowers to pay attention to their new costumer. Lottie can take care of that, he thought; or at least he did before he heard his sister gasping.

“Mister Styles!”

He looked up to see Lottie taking a bow in front of a very tall, fancy looking, young man. He was wearing a long, black jacket with a high collar shirt underneath. The top-hat in his head made Louis scoff inevitably.  As it seemed, he was taking in his surroundings when his eyes found her and immediately took her hand and kissed it. Louis swore he could hear Lottie’s mind screaming.

“Excuse me, mademoiselle, I was hoping to find the best gift for my hosts here in Doncaster and one of my maids told me you have the most exquisite flower ornaments in the whole county of Yorkshire. From what I can see, I think I’ve been sent to the right place.” The young man said as he brought a lily to his nose to smell it. His voice sounds like dark chocolate, Louis thought, and where the hell did that even come from? If anything, this ‘mister Styles’ sounded pedant and pretentious. Dark chocolate my pants.

“I, well I think… I m-mean I… I’m afraid I can’t help you with that, but umm…” Lottie stuttered out of nerves, cute. And then her face lighted up like the sun, “Louis! Yes, Louis can help you. Right, Louis? Louis!” She said as she walked fast towards her brother and grabbed his arm to whisper harshly into his ear, “This is the duchess’s son I was talking about, and he’s a marquis, so please behave.”

He freed his arm out of her grip, “As if I’m the one who doesn’t know how to behave.” Louis muttered while smoothing out his sleeve where Lottie´s hand was grabbing and took a step forward, closer to their client. Now that he looked at him properly, he was able to make out his features better. A soft halo of brown curls framed his face, his plump pink lips curled up in a smirk as he looked at the Tomlinson siblings in front of him. His stare was so intense Louis thought he could distinguish the exact shade of green in his eyes from the other corner of the store. It was a face that could only belong to a noble, and what a coincidence that is.

Louis cleared his throat soundly and shook his head in an attempt to also clear the thoughts out of his mind. Not the right time. “How can I help you, sir?”

“As I said before, I’m looking for a present to give to my hosts and I thought flowers would be suitable.” The man talked as slowly as he walked, pacing through the store shelves filled with flowers, his hand grazing softly over the thousands of petals. He stopped gently and looked at Louis right in the eyes, “Do you think you can help me with that?”

The young florist turned around to where he was working previously, uncomfortable under the man’s glare. “Of course I can. Did you have something in mind?”

Without any warning, the duchess’s son walked to where he was standing and stared at him again. “I was thinking something soft, something simple but beautiful. Something like you.”

Louis smiled down to his working hands, a soft blush creeping up his cheeks. Stop it; not the right time, not the right person! “You’re going to have to be a bit more specific than that.”

“Roses. I want roses, like the ones in your hands.”

“These are umm… These are yet to be finished. Let me find you something else.” Louis quickly walked to the other side of the store, rummaging through the shelves. His hands couldn’t stop shaking, because his mum’s flower shop where he and his oblivious, innocent sister were working was not the place for a man to flirt with him. What if she discovers he likes men? What if she finds him disgusting and tells the priest about it? No, Lottie wouldn’t do that. But then again, he couldn’t be so sure.

He soon found a small bouquet of pale pink roses. It was soft, simple, beautiful and, most importantly, it will get this man out of my shop before something terrible happens.

He came back with the object in his hands and before they could stablish a price, ‘Mister Styles’ took it from Louis’ hands and got a small bag with money out of his pocket and handed it to him.

“I believe that’ll pay for your services. Thank you so much, it’s a beautiful arrangement.”

“You are very welcome, sir.” Louis said in disbelief as he opened the small bag; definitely more than what the flowers cost.

“I’m going to stay in Doncaster indefinitely, so you’ll probably see me around. In case you were wondering, my name is Harry.”

“Mine’s Louis.”

Out of the sudden, Harry reached for Louis’ hand and kissed gently as he did with Lottie’s earlier. Louis could feel his face burning in a mix of embarrassment, shock and fear; Lottie is still here, for fuck’s sake. “It’s been a real pleasure, Louis.” The name rolled out of his tongue with so much class and gracefulness, and Louis didn’t know how to respond to that, so he kept his mouth shut.

With the same tenderness, Harry made a gesture of farewell towards Lottie and walked out the door. Once they heard the wheels of his carriage rolling through the cobbled alley and away from them, she spun around to face her brother.

“That did not just happen.”

And that was exactly what Louis was thinking, but he couldn’t bring himself to talk. Or to move really, because did that beautiful human being just kiss his hand? Like he was a fucking damsel? Right in front of Lottie?

But she wasn’t bringing that out, so he didn’t either.

“Louis? Are you still there? I’m talking to you!” Lottie grabbed him by the shoulders and started shaking him from side to side with the biggest smile plastered on her face.

“Yes.”

“Yes? That’s all you have to say? Harry fucking Styles was right here, he kissed our hands, and all you have to say is yes?” She brought it out, but she doesn’t care. That’s a good sign, isn’t it?

“Why did he kiss my hand?”

“Because you’re a pretty boy, aren’t you?” She said as she tickled his sides.

“Wait, what?”

“Come on, you could see the hearts bursting out of his eyes from Ireland, and you didn’t seem much different. Are you going to tell me you didn’t like him?”

“I mean, he was very charming but…”

“But what?”

“Lottie I’m a boy! I’m a boy and I’m supposed to like girls, not other boys! Doesn’t that bother you?” He explained, throwing his arms in the air in frustration.

“I know you’re a boy Louis, and I know he’s a boy too. But does that really matter when you two are looking at each other like that? Besides, I already suspected you were into boys, since you were never interested in the girls I met you up with.”

Louis took a deep breath not knowing what else to do or say, because that wasn’t the reaction he was expecting at all. He couldn’t even bring himself to tell her that no one was looking at each other in any way, he just nodded in silence.

“Now come with me, you weirdo. I need to find something for mum’s birthday and you are going to help me.”

And just like that, she grabbed him from his arm and dragged him out of the shop like a rag doll.

If Lottie isn’t the coolest person in the world then everything else is wrong with life.

***

The next day, Louis passed by the emporium down the alley to pick up some breakfast for him and his sisters before going to the flower shop, just as he did every day.

He was on his way back with an apple on his hand and a bag filled with bread and fruits in the other when he heard two of his sisters, Charlotte and Felicite, giggling from inside their mother’s store.  With a raised brow, Louis pushed the door with his shoulder and the view he got as he entered was so shocking he let the apple fall down to the floor.

Because Harry Styles himself was leaning on his desk, talking with his sisters, looking just as fancy as the day before.

What even is his life?

Almost as soon as he heard the door closing behind him he saw Lottie walking towards him with open arms and a bright smile. “Louis, you’re here! Look who came to visit us again!” she said as she placed one of her hands in his lower back.

Louis opened his mouth but no words came out of it, all he could do was blink. Doesn’t this guy have more important things to do than wonder around the roads of an unknown city? It was a complete mystery to him.

“Mister Styles was just asking for you when you walked through the door!” His other sister intervened from where she was standing next to Harry, playing with a strand of her own hair. Wow, just wow.

“Isn’t that a funny coincidence, Louis? I was curious about your whereabouts.” Harry beamed at him and the dimples that appeared on his cheeks as he did came as a big surprise because Louis had definitely not noticed that.

“I was… I just went out to pick up breakfast.” He finally said, his voice so unsure it almost came out as a question. “Why are you here?”

“I was sort of expecting a warmer welcome if I’m honest, but I guess I understand. See, I happen to have a certain liking for flowers and, since this is the best place to find them, I thought it’d be nice to hang around for a bit.”

“Is that so, mister Styles? Do you like flowers as well?” Felicite inquired, still twisting the same piece of hair between her fingers.

“Fiz, why don’t we go make breakfast for the twins? They must be awake by now.” Lottie said as she moved next to her sister, awareness clear in her face.

“But mister Styles is here! We can’t leave our guest alone.”

“Louis can take care of that, right Louis?”

At the mention of his own name, Louis seemed to snap out of his daze, quickly catching up with the conversation. His eyes fell on Harry for a second; he appeared to be a little upset by the way his sisters were talking about him, like he wasn’t even there. Louis even noticed a small pout forming on the noble’s lips, and he couldn’t keep himself from smiling. Then he turned his head to where the girls were standing.

“Sure I can.”

“We’re heading out then. If you need any help, just shout.” Lottie smiled, dragging her frowning sister through the door that connected the flower shop with their own house. He heard Felicite whining quietly before they both disappeared completely.

And then they were on their own.

Harry cleared his throat, which only added more awkwardness to the silence that took place between them. “You don’t mind me staying here while you work, right?”

“Sure I don’t. This place can get really lonely sometimes, so I guess I’m glad you stayed.”

“Are you, by any chance, saying you enjoy me as your company?” Harry said as he picked up a flower to bring to his nose (a move that was starting to become familiar in him) as he smirked.  Louis stayed silent, out of words to say.

***

“What are you doing?” Harry beamed next to him. Louis almost jumped out of his skin. Weren’t he just in the other corner of the shop?

“Jesus Christ, you almost killed me!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Harry chuckled softly, and it was positively the most adorable sound Louis had heard in his whole life (or maybe he was kind of falling for this boy, who knows.), “I just saw you working and felt curious. So, what are you doing?”

Louis was perplexed by the change in Harry’s attitude. Honestly, in that moment he looked like a five year old trapped in the body of a twenty year old. “Umm… nothing interesting really, it’s literally just tying up a bunch of flowers.”

“But I’d never seen bouquets as pretty as the ones you make before, you truly have a talent.”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about now. It’s just flowers.”

“You say it like flowers weren’t important at all.” Harry said, looking so offended Louis almost wanted to punch himself for ever making a comment about it. Almost.

“I don’t know, they’ve always been just a part of my job.”

Harry bit on his lower lip, as if he was considering whether to say what he had on his mind or not. “When I was younger, whenever I visited my great aunt, she would take me and my sister for a walk to the valley. At the end of the day we would all end up with small wild flowers hooked in our hair. You know, I grew up in a world filled with luxury and extravagance and obligations, but those days were the closest thing I got to a normal life. I guess all flowers remind me of that now.” He smiled down to his feet, and he looks like the cutest thing like this. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this, you probably don’t even care.”

Instead of answering right away, Louis took a flower from a vase and gently put it behind Harry’s ear. When their eyes eventually met, his green eyes were brighter than ever, and Louis smiled smugly at the accomplishment, “Flowers are perhaps more important than I thought, aren’t they?”

Harry just smiled and nodded.

After a brief pause, Louis decided to voice the question that'd been kicking around inside his head since the beginning of the morning, “Why did you want to hang out here? I mean, you probably have more important people to meet or something like that.”

“As I said before, I’ve never lived quite the regular life, and as a result of that, I’ve never had many friends. I’m rather lonely, really. Everybody I meet lately seems so… fake? Like, they’re all empty, only interested in my family’s wealth. But you look like you genuinely care about what I have to say, and there’s something in this place that just calls for me. Does it make sense? I think it doesn’t.”

“It does a bit.” Very eloquent Louis, kudos to you.

“It doesn’t matter. The point is that I very much enjoy your company and, well, I’d really like us to be friends?” Harry said tentatively, making it sound like a question. “I mean, only if you wanted to.”

It was truly amazing to see him going from handsome, confident, wealthy young gentleman to shy, insecure, lonely boy. Mesmerizing.

“I’m also quite the loner if I’m honest, but I think we can be alone together.”

Harry smiled, and he was positively glowing.

***

It wasn’t a surprise to see Harry standing out the door the morning after.

“You know you can enter without my permission, right?

Harry’s smile came before his answer, “I think visiting you without invitation for three days straight is inopportune enough, don’t need to add another thing to the list.”

“I don’t know much about the world you live in but right now we are in mine, and in my world we don’t give two fucks about politeness.” Louis said, sounding much fonder than he initially intended to, “Please come in.”

As Harry steeped inside, Louis noticed he was hiding something behind his back. He made no comment whatsoever, waiting for Harry to give his own explanation instead.

When he finally spoke, his cheeks were covered in an intense blush. “I was umm… yesterday I was out in the garden, the one from the house I’m staying in and… I mean, I found this flower and it’s really beautiful and I thought… I didn’t see any of these in your shelves yesterday and I thought you might want it. So here I am, and here it is.”

Harry moved his hand from his own back and showed the present to Louis. It was a red dahlia; Louis recognized it as soon as he saw it. But the intensity of its colour was something he had never seen before and it had him staring at it for a while. A wine red displaying in all its petals, turning into black the closer they got to the middle. The mysterious obscureness of it had Louis hypnotized, or maybe it was the fact that this boy was giving him a bloody flower.

Harry cleared his throat and the sound of it brought Louis out of his trance. “It’s really gorgeous Harry, thank you. I’m going to go but it on a vase.” He said as he took the flower from Harry’s hand and walked out of the room and into his house. He went straight to the room he shared with Lottie and Felicite and sat on the floor to think for a second. Because there’s this boy a couple meters away, with big eyes and bright smiles and soft hair and flowers. And yeah, it’s possible that he’s already taken Louis’ heart away.

Louis smiled to himself, because he knew he was special and that, unlike every other man he knew, he liked boys. But this, this was completely different. For a second he let himself think that Harry could be attracted to him too, based on this weird atmosphere they’ve been building around themselves; he let himself think that maybe there was someone out there for him, and perhaps that someone was waiting for him to come back to the flower shop.

He slowly stood up and brought Harry’s flower up to his nose to take in its scent, just to be cliché about the whole situation, but found himself tragically disappointed as he remembered that dahlias don’t smell like nothing at all. As soon as he found a place for his little gift to be, he made his way out of the house and inside the shop.

When he stepped in, the first thing he saw was Harry sitting on the floor examining the unfinished bouquets he always put at the bottom of the shelves. He looked up from where he was sitting and acknowledged his presence with a smile, and then went back to focus on the uncompleted posies.

“You never told me the reason of your visit.”

“I already told you, I wanted to give you the-“

“I mean why you are here in Doncaster.”

Harry seemed to contemplate his answer before voicing it, but he said it eventually. “Remember I told you about my great aunt?” As a response, Louis nodded silently and waited for the marquis to continue, “Well, she lives here in the city, and she’s been terribly ill lately. My cousins say these are her final days, so my mother decided to make her company until she leaves this world. After all, she was the woman who raised her. Her house is not too far from here, actually, she lives right next to the parish because she’s married to the town’s bishop and-“

“Wait,” Louis interrupted abruptly, a hint of disbelief, “so you’re telling me that your great aunt is Lady Pemberley, the matriarch of the richest family in the whole county?”

“Well my mother is a duchess; I don’t know what you are so surprised about.”

Louis remained silent.

“Anyway,” Harry proceeded, “yes, I’m staying with my great aunt, that’s why I wanted to buy those flowers that day when I first met you. She’s very passionate about flowers, and recognized they were from this place as soon as she saw them. She even congratulated me for my good choice, so I guess I own you a thank you, don’t I?”

“Lady Pemberley knows about our shop?”

“Everybody does, it’s the best flower shop after all.” Harry smiled, and then both of them stayed quiet, never becoming awkward.

Harry was the first one to speak. “I think I better get going, my mum will start to wonder where I am soon”

“Yeah, I need to get back to work.” Louis offered his hand for Harry to shake, “It’s been a pleasure as always,”

But the young marquis didn’t go for a handshake or a kiss in the hand as he did when they first met. Instead of that, he stepped into Louis arms and gave him a wholehearted hug. Taken aback by his actions, Louis stayed still for a bit before wrapping his arms around Harry’s shoulders. Without saying a word, the green eyed boy stepped out, turned around and walked towards the door.

As he was opening it, Louis dared to speak again, “Will you be here tomorrow?”

Harry just smiled and walked away slowly, leaving the other boy on his own again.

Without thinking, Louis slid down the wall and sat on the wood floor, sighing happily at the memory of just seconds ago, when they were closer than Louis had ever been to another person before, one’s arms wrapped around the other.

Maybe this is what love feels like.

***

“Want to go for a walk?” Louis said as soon as he saw the other boy entering the room.

“What? What about the shop?”

“Lottie and Fizzy can take care of it. Besides, I already finished the orders for today, they’ll be fine.” Louis said, pulling Harry outside by his arm. The young noble almost tripped over trying to catch up.

“Where are we going anyway?”

“Just wait and see.” Louis smirked. They walked in silence from there, taking turns around the city Louis knew like the palm of his hand.

***

“Wow…” That was the first thing Harry said as they arrived.

Seeing Harry talking so emotionally about his childhood the other day had given Louis and idea. Now they were standing in front of the valley, the one next to the field where Louis’ mother had planted the flowers for the next season and were now starting to blossom. The sight was truly breath taking; a beautiful mixture of red, blue, yellow, white and magenta dotted around a huge extension of wild grass, the sound of the river flowing only added to the peacefulness of the scene.

“I know”

They stood there in silence, just admiring the picture in front of them. Then, unexpectedly, Harry started running down the hill, his usual top-hat getting lost in the way as the wind blew against him. As he got to the riverside he dropped to the floor, hands behind his head. When Louis finally reached him he was happily welcomed by Harry with his eyes closed and a relaxed smile.

“Come down and lay next to me.”

And Louis did just that. Once again, silence took over the moment and Louis decided to close his eyes and embrace this moment, because the birds are singing and the wind is blowing and the most amazing person is lying right next to him. It almost felt like magic.

He was on the verge of falling asleep when Harry’s deep voice brought him back to reality. “It’s your turn.”

“My what?”

“Yesterday I told you about my family, now I want to hear about yours.”

Louis was a bit taken aback, because none of his all-time friends had ever asked him about personal stuff, he had never met someone who cared enough to ask; and he never thought that marquis Harry Styles, son of the Duchess of Cheshire, would be the first one to do so.

“My family? Well, there’s not much to say. I have five younger sisters and a little brother. You know Lottie and Fizzy, then there’s the oldest twins, Daisy and Phoebe, and Doris and Ernest were born just months ago. My mother, Johannah, is the owner of the flower shop, has been since she was very young, but then my father died and now she’s been taking care of the house and my younger siblings while I’m in charge of the shop.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Oh don’t be; that man had always been bad to us, used to beat the shit out of my mother and, when he got her pregnant, he took his anger out in me. So it’s not much of a loss really.” Louis said, trying to hide the bitterness of the memory and doing a terrible job out of it.

Harry wiggled closer to him and wrapped his arms around his waist. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that, Louis. No one deserves to be treated like that, especially you.”

Louis let it slip; let slip the fact that Harry basically just said that he thinks he’s important, that he’s special and he deserves to be treated well. He let it slip because Harry’s arms were holding him, and maybe not only in a physical way, because Louis felt like if it wasn’t for Harry right there he would have burst into tears. But he didn’t.

He closed his eyes once again. Yeah, this is magic.

***

They spent the rest of the day wondering around the fields, picking up the flowers they liked the most. At one point, Harry asked Louis to braid his hair, hooking the flowers in it, and since he had perfected the art of plaiting after years of styling his sisters’ hair, he agreed immediately.

He was finishing the first braid, the one on the right side of his head, when Harry dropped it. “There´s going to be a ball at the Pemberley’s next week, my sister and cousins organized it.”

“A ball?”

“A masquerade ball. It’s a bit dumb really, but Gemma, my sister, wants me to be there.”

“Isn´t it a bit disrespectful to throw a party at the same house your great aunt is dying?” Louis asked, not knowing where Harry was heading with this conversation.

“That’s what I told Gemma, but she said it’s to ease the tension of the people in the house, to distract them or something along those lines. Anyway, the thing is that since I don’t know anybody else here, I thought I could go with you, if you want to come of course.”

Louis thought he could have screamed with happiness, but the feeling didn’t last long. “Harry, we don’t belong to the same class, I’m not even allowed to get close to a house like that.”

Harry turned around smiling big and after he took Louis’ hands in his, he proceeded, “That’s why it’s perfect, Louis. It’s a masquerade ball, people won’t be able to recognize you or tell whether you’re wealthy or not. And since I’m going to put your name on the guest list, you’ll be capable to get inside without a problem. So, what do you say?”

Louis wanted to say no, he really did, because Harry wasn’t considering the dangers of someone finding him in there, let alone someone discovering Harry invited another man, even if those weren’t his intentions. It was scary as hell, but Harry´s hands were enveloping his and that’s the most important thing in the world, isn’t it?

“Okay,” he said, “I’ll go with you, but I don’t even have the proper attire for a masquerade ball.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, I´ll take care of that.” Harry beamed at him, slowly dropping his hands and turning around to where he was seated before so Louis could continue with Harry’s braids.

Once Louis was done with the other one, he spoke again, “Harry, you’re a marquis right?”

“I am, indeed.”

“Then shouldn’t I call you Mister or Lord or something?”

“You should, yes, but I don’t want you to.” Harry turned around to him again. “I like it that you never treated me like nobility, like I’m actually a person and not just a family name. It makes me feel normal and, as you know, that’s one of the things I appreciate the most.”

Louis nodded understandingly, holding out his hand for Harry to stand up. After he did, they started walking and Harry continued.

“The only people who never called me Mister or Lord, besides my immediate family, are you and my piano instructor but-“

“You know how to play the piano? I’ve always wanted to learn.”

“Of course I do, I learned when I was four, it´s like a requisite for high society. Anyway, she never called me anything because she thought I didn’t deserve it. You do it because you know it´s ridiculous to do so. That’s one of the things I like the most about you, you don´t see titles, you see people.” Harry looked at him smiling and Louis smiled right back.

They stayed out in the fields until a little before the sunset. They picked up Harry’s top-hat on their way up the hill and then hid his braids with it so he could keep them for a little longer. Harry walked Louis to the shop and told him he was heading to the Pemberley household. When he got to his room, Louis’ smile was so big his face was hurting.

***

Louis never in his life thought he’d get slightly close to see what an aristocrat’s house looked like, yet there he was, standing in front of the Pemberley’s land with Harry by his side and he could only stare in awe.

“It’s bloody huge.” Was all Louis could say.

“I know, but you should see my house. That is bloody huge.”

It all began two days before, in the fields, when Louis told Harry that he always wanted to learn how to play the piano. He’d said it as a comment for the wind to take, but apparently Harry had taken it very much seriously, because the next day he stomped into the store claiming that he was going to teach Louis how to play the goddamn piano.

As soon as Harry was told by his mother that all the women in the house were going to have a day out and that he was going to be left alone, he went running to pick Louis up from his house and drag him to where he was now staying.

“Come on, let’s get inside before my uncle comes out of the parish and sees us.” Harry took Louis hand (Harry took Louis hand) and walked him though the big entrance and into the front yard of the Pemberleys. Louis was fascinated about how much it looked like the paintings he had seen people selling next to the market.

By the time they got inside Louis was awestruck. The floor was made of the darkest, finest type of wood, and it contrasted very well with the whiteness of the walls. The majority of the furniture pieces were covered in exquisite patterns and finished with fragments of gold and marble.

“Come on, the piano is upstairs!” Harry exclaimed as he made it running to the second floor, Louis following right behind.

They slowed down as they approached to one of the rooms; it had three big windows that almost went from floor to roof, from where the sunlight entered in a way that gave the room some sort of heavenly look. There was a black grand piano right in the middle, and Harry was already walking towards it.

“So you’re really going to teach me?”

To which Harry only answered “I never break my promises,” as he signalled for Louis to follow him. He did and they sat together in the piano bench.

“Put your hands over the keys,” Harry instructed and, when he did, he enveloped his big hands over Louis’ smaller ones. Louis felt his heart skipping a beat, “now follow my movements”

And they began to play. It wasn’t completely bad since Harry was basically the one playing, but they had to go slower than the original song since Louis still wasn’t used to the instrument.

Despite their size, Harry’s hands felt so light and soft over Louis’ own, guiding them through a melody he wasn’t even paying attention to. It wasn’t his fault, it’s just that Harry was so close like this, and the tension he had expected to feel being in this situation was completely inexistent.

Louis began to wonder how good these hands must feel caressing his cheek, or running through his hair, or holding the back of his neck so very lovingly as he leaned in for a kiss, or… no, stop.

No. No, no, no, no.

No because Harry is his friend, and probably will never be something more than that. Louis is the weird one, he is the freak. Harry is normal, and probably will end up married to a beautiful rich girl and will forget about the only friend he ever made, that florist from Doncaster who cared about him and was also secretly in love with him.

Sad.

“What’s the matter?”

Harry’s voice seemed to bring him out of his thoughts. Only then he realized they weren’t playing anymore, and he could see the other boy out of the corner of his eye looking at him with his head tilted, questioning.

“What do you mean?”

Harry chuckled softly, “Lou, you’re frowning! You’re going to get wrinkly.” he said as he lifted one hand to thumb the tension away from the crease of Louis’ eyebrows. And yes, Harry’s hands did feel good against the soft skin of his face. Harry rested his hand on the side of Louis’ head and they stared at each other in silence for a few moments. But then Harry’s fingers started massaging his scalp and fuck it, Louis needed to do it; if he didn’t, the thought of it would eat him alive.

So Louis kissed Harry. He kissed him with all he got.

All his thoughts, all his supressed feelings, all his love was poured in that kiss. Louis felt so light he thought he could fly away if someone opened the window, and the warmth spreading through his chest confirmed that this must be the most perfect moment in history.

Except that Harry wasn’t kissing him back.

Petrified, Louis was petrified. He slowly pulled away, opened his eyes to find Harry blinking rapidly and looking down at his lap, not daring to look Louis in the eyes. The expression on his face was impossible to read, but it sure meant something bad.

“I think I should go.” Louis said in a shaky voice, tears threatening to fall.

“Yeah, you should.”

No, this isn’t happening. How could Louis be so stupid? His bottom lip was trembling as he walked out of the room and down the stairs. He was practically dead now; Harry’s uncle was the fucking town bishop! It was a matter of days until his head was succumbing to the power of the guillotine. But it didn’t matter anyway, because he wouldn’t be able to see Harry ever again if he lived anyway.

At the bottom of the stairs he heard Harry’s voice from the second floor and it was so weak it almost felt like a whisper. “Louis… wait.”

He stopped dead in his tracks, only a faint hint of hope in the back of his mind. He turned around, waiting for Harry to speak again, but he never did. All Louis could see was Harry looking away, his face twisting in a grimace that reflected something indescribable. Pain? Betrayal? Disappointment? Whatever it was, Louis couldn’t stand it anymore, so he made his way back home.

***

When Lottie opened their room door she wasn’t expecting to see her brother with a red face stained with tears, breathing heavily and just straight out ugly sobbing.

“Oh my dear! Louis, what happened?”

Louis made a pained noise as he closed his eyes, “I fucked up, Lottie,” and then his sister’s arms were holding him tightly, her familiar scent calming him in a way, “I fucked up so hard…”

“Shh baby, everything’s going to be alright.” She said, running her fingers through his hair.

“I don’t think it will be…”

***

Harry didn’t show up next morning, nor did he the morning after.

It wasn’t like it surprised Louis or anything; he was pretty much expecting it. It’s just that it was so much more real now, and he was scared shitless.

He could die (he was shocked that he wasn’t dead already), but that wasn’t what he was afraid of. He was afraid of loneliness, because for a second he thought he had found someone like him, he thought he wasn’t alone; he thought he had found someone to be with, to love. But he was mistaken, and now the most beautiful and caring human being to ever exist was out of his life, maybe forever. All because of a stupid kiss that was never meant to happen.

How did Harry even become so important to him in such a short time?

It’s not like he’s all that special. He’s just a curly haired, green eyed noble who’s tall as a mountain and has dimples for days; a noble who also cared for him, who listened.

A noble who became his friend… and now he was gone.

***

During the day, Louis would tear up a couple of times (or maybe more, but no one needs to know that) because of how painful and frustrating the whole situation was. Maybe if he wasn’t a freak, he would still be friends with Harry.

“Come on, Louis, you can’t let it affect you this much.” Lottie said, rubbing soothing circles on Louis back as he cried… again.

He didn’t answer; he didn’t have the energy to explain himself once more.

***

It was past midnight, almost a week since he last saw Harry, when he heard the sound of pebbles hitting against his window. After about ten minutes, silence reigned over the room again and only then he could bring himself to stand up and see who was outside.

But when he opened the window, the only thing he found was a wrapped box with a note attached to it. As he picked it up, he could read the only two words written on it in the most delicate handwriting he had ever seen.

To Louis x.

Startled, Louis ripped the package open and opened the box to find a bundle of folded clothes in it. A red velvet waistcoat was the first thing he saw, followed by a silky shirt, whose material was so soft it felt like water in Louis’ hands. Underneath them he found some simple black pants, a stripped undershirt and a pair of white gloves. And if his confusion wasn’t enough already, under all the clothes there was another note in the same calligraphy.

“Cover your face when you feel like breaking but don’t hide yourself from the ones who really matter”

You’ll need this for tomorrow, I told you I’d take care.

And it all became clear to him but, as if looking for a confirmation, he let his eyes rummage along the box and there, lying beautiful in the bottom of the packet, was a mask. Delicate burgundy porcelain decorated with soft white spirals.

Louis didn’t know how to react, so he took the note in his hands and brought it to his chest, pressing it against his pyjamas with a trembling smile creeping on his lips.

Maybe Harry had forgiven him.

***

“Louis you look stunning!” His sisters chirped as he stepped out of the room where he was changing.

It was almost time for him to leave and he was now fixing the last minute details of his attire. He did look pretty good, if he was honest. Harry had done a really nice job choosing his outfit.

“Alright girls, time to say goodbye to your brother.” His mother said as the girls hugged him one last time. They were leaving already when Lottie turned around and embraced his brother again.

“Woah, Lottie! What is this for?”

She stepped back with her hands grabbing him by his shoulders, “I don’t know, I just felt like I needed to do it.” They stared at each other deeply for a few seconds and Louis thought that this had to be the weirdest yet intense moment in his life. “Listen Louis, I want you to know that no matter what happens tonight I love you with all my heart and that you are the most wonderful brother I could ever ask for.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re talking about, love.”

“I’m scared, brother. You know how things happened and I think saying that the way they did is strange might be an understatement.”

“I still don’t get it.”

“Let’s just say that tonight things can go really well or terribly wrong. Please be careful, I don’t want him to do the same things our dad used to do to you.”

He knew that, he knew that he couldn’t put his hands on the flame for Harry. This ball could be an evil plan to out him and get him arrested for what he did. Still, there was a small chance for him to get it right, for Harry to forgive him; there was a small chance for them to be friends again and Louis was faithful.

“I know what I’m doing, Lottie, you don’t need to worry about me. And even if it goes wrong, I’ll find my way out of it. You know how I am, there’s no need to be anxious about it, okay? I’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” She said, then threw her arms around him again, “I love you a lot.”

He hugged her strongly because Lottie was just the best. “I love you a lot too.”

She picked up the mask from the bedside table, tied it around the back of his head and fixed it in place. She looked at him with a thoughtful frown on her face. Then, her eyes lit up and took in her hand a red rose from a flower vase nearby and hooked it on the lapel of his vest. “You look lovely. Go have fun but please be alert, you know anything could happen.”

“I know and I will.” He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead before adding, “You are in charge now.”

Lottie was about to say something else when their mother’s voice came sweetly from the flower shop. “Louis, I think you should come here!” As they heard it, they ran to where Johannah was looking out the window. Louis got a little bit closer to see what his mother´s eyes were fixed on and what he found outside almost took his breath away.

Harry’s carriage was parked outside the shop, that same carriage that used to drive the marquis there every morning before the previous week.

Louis could see from there that Harry wasn’t inside, but if it was there, that meant Harry must have sent it. He went outside and was met by Harry’s chauffeur. “Mister Louis Tomlinson, it’s time for us to go.”

***

Once he was inside the house he realized of the big mistake it had been to go, because everything was so scary. Hundreds and hundreds of inquiring eyes judging him from head to toe, hiding themselves behind fancy masks. Everyone walked past him and stared at him, and it felt like everything was in slow motion, like a horrid nightmare. Louis wanted to run away.

In fact, he was about to do so, and that was when he saw Harry walking towards him.

It would have been hard for anyone else to find him in the big crowd of dancing people, but not for Louis. The young florist only had to take a brief look to know that those emerald green eyes were the ones he’d been miserable for.

He looked so elegant and beautiful. It was a very simple set; a white shirt quite similar to Louis’ own, black pants and a large black cloak turning it into a unit. And even though his face was almost completely covered by a birdlike mask, Louis knew behind it was that same gorgeous face of the boy he’d been missing.

Louis felt like everything was going silent around them when Harry opened his mouth, a shy smile playing on his lips as he spoke, “I thought you wouldn’t come. I’m glad you’re here.”

Louis debated whether or not he should play along with Harry and act like nothing ever happened. He decided to stick to his original plan. “Listen Harry, I’m… I’m sorry for what I did, I shouldn’t have done it. Like, I never intended to do it, it just happened and it was very disrespectful and I regret it.” Louis bowed his head down in signal of reverence and added. “I beg you for your forgiveness.”

Harry lifted up his mask enough for Louis to see him and the first thing he noticed was the slight frown on his face. The young marquis stared at him with an unsettled look on his face for a few seconds, then shook his head. “Forget it, I don’t want to talk. At least not now. Could you please put it on hold for a second?” Harry put his mask back down and took the rose from Louis’ lapel. “I want to dance.” So before Louis could say anything, Harry was dragging him through the dance floor.

Harry took Louis’ hand in his, placed the other one over his waist and they started dancing. Louis couldn’t even think of a word to describe how uncomfortable he felt. Not because of Harry, he was actually the good part of the whole situation, but because he knew everyone was glaring at them, judging. Louis made an attempt to drop Harry’s hand but the other boy only held on tighter.

“What’s the matter, Lou? Do you not like dancing?”

“Harry everybody’s staring at us. Just stop it. Please.” Louis stepped back, but Harry pulled him closer than before, chest to chest.

“Why do you worry about it? No one knows who you are here; all they can do is watch.”

“But… Harry-“

“But nothing. I invited you so you could have fun, so we could have fun. So let’s, okay? Can you do that for me?”

Again, Louis wanted to say no; he should have said no. Everyone was already looking at them like they were stepping on puppies, they didn’t need more attention. But of course, it’s Louis, so what could you expect him to say?

“Okay.” He whispered, and so they danced.

***

The awkwardness of it only lasted for the first few minutes and then Louis got carried away by the music and the room’s smell and Harry’s presence. They danced and had fun all night. Every once in a while Harry would lean in and whisper some obnoxious joke in Louis’ ear that he could only laugh at. It was the perfect night.

At one point they stopped dancing and just talked for the rest of the night. Suddenly, Harry turned around to take a look at their surroundings, then held his hand out for Louis to take and only said, “Come with me.”

Louis did, hand Harry took them to one of the empty corridors, not far from where they were, got his mask off and leaned in front of one of the big windows that let some of the moonlight in. He looked a bit sad and thoughtful.

“Harry, are you okay?”

“Can we talk about the other day?” Harry blurted out, and Louis was a little worried about his reaction.

“Harry I’m really sorry, I never-“

“No!” he exclaimed, then added in a quiet voice, “Please listen to what I have to say.”

Once Louis had nodded, Harry proceeded, “I know you think you did wrong but… Look, all my life I felt different than the rest and I thought… I thought it was because I never really belonged to high society. But then I met you and…” Harry grabbed him gently by his shoulders, “Louis you were a friend to me, something no one had ever been before. And ever since I first saw you I thought you were the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. I realized that there was something missing in my life and you brought that something and… Oh god, Louis, when you kissed me I was so scared and I didn’t know what to do. I acted like a real moron and I’m really sorry.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“Do you trust me, Louis?”

“I do.” He whispered.

“Then please close your eyes.”

He did as Harry asked him and shortly after he felt another pair of lips against his. He dared to open one eye only enough to see if he was mistaken but surely he wasn’t, because it was Harry Styles who was kissing him. Louis was utterly shocked at first, but soon the same warmth in his chest from their previous kiss invaded him, and he was kissing Harry back.

Harry’s hand found its way to Louis’ jaw and stayed there, almost like he felt that Louis would disappear if he didn’t get a hold of him somehow. They broke apart from the kiss when both of them needed to take a breath, but neither Harry nor Louis stepped out of their embrace.

“Harry…” Louis said wondering, his eyes never leaving the pair of green ones.

“Louis I’m sorry if you thought I wasn’t… Louis I care about you, a lot. I’d love it if you give me a chance to make you happy.”

Louis only wanted to say yes, but he knew that everything was against them this time; there was no way for them to be together. Harry was a bloody noble; no matter what he did, everyone would talk about it the day after.

“But we can’t-“

“Yes we can! I’ll make it work, I promise. Just,” Harry enveloped his hands around Louis’ lovingly as he talked, “please.”

And it was true, he could see it in Harry’s eyes. He smiled sweetly as he lifted their hands to his chest and was about to speak when a female voice popped their little bubble.

“Mister Styles?”

They both turned around as fast as they could to find one of Harry’s maids looking them, then her eyes travelled to their linked hands and her face twisted into an ugly grimace of disgust. “Who is he? What are you doing?”

Harry looked at Louis, and his eyes reflected the same desperation he was feeling, but none of them could utter any words out. Again, the maid’s voice brought them out of their shock.

“I’m sorry, Mister Styles, but I must inform this to the duchess.” She said as she sprinted out of the hallway. Louis was terrified; because this, this was the end of him, quite literally. Louis only wanted to cry but apparently Harry had other plans, because he was tugging at his arm, trying to make him move.

“Harry what are you doing?” He said in a trembling voice.

“Running away.” And that was basically all Louis needed, because the next second he was following Harry’s steps.

They got to the house lobby and ran through the couples dancing there, not giving two shits about the commotion they were causing; they needed to get out of there fast. Someone shouted Harry’s name as they made it through the door, but they didn’t look back. They all around the town and stopped behind the market to take a breath once they were out of sight.

“I think we lost them.” Louis said breathing rapidly, his face fixed in a huge smile filled with adrenalin. He turned around to check on Harry and found him staring at him fondly. “What?”

“Are you really coming with me?”

“I mean, it’s not like I have many choices,” he said jokingly, making Harry giggle, “but if I have to run away, you’re the only one I’d go with.”

They smiled at each other in a blissful silence. Louis thought about what the future held for him; for them. He had just met this boy a few weeks prior, yet he knew that he was about to embark in the biggest adventure of his life with him, and he’d never felt happier.

“Oh god Harry, do you even know somewhere we could go?”

“We can build our own city; I don’t care as long as I’m next to you.”  Harry intertwined their fingers then smiled down to him. The cold night air grazed their faces and something about it told him that everything was going to be fine; they were going to be fine.