ok whatever i'm sharing a snippet from the next thrill chapter:
Harry pushes his wet boots off at the door and hears Louis’ shoes hit the floor a moment later. He doesn’t actually watch him step inside. Or rather, he can’t.
In the kitchen, Harry gets a can of cat food from the cupboard above the microwave. He goes about cracking it open, emptying it into Collette’s dish. And for a little while, he pets her as she eats while pretending he isn’t aware at all times of Louis’ breathing, his heart beating, his scent. He’s also aware of his own heart racing, his panic mounting.
When Louis steps into the kitchen after several minutes of silence, Harry forces himself to stand and takes a step in the opposite direction, shoving his hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt.
“Do you want a drink or something?” Harry asks, his voice a flurry, hardly intelligible.
“Harry,” Louis says.
Harry looks at him. He notes the diminishing distance between them. But he’s in the corner of the kitchen already. There’s nowhere left for him to retreat to.
“I’m not afraid of you,” Louis says. “Alright?”
Harry releases a heavy sigh and as he does so, his eyes slip closed. “I think you should be,” he says.
“Maybe you should try being a bit more menacing, then,” Louis suggests. “I think you’re the one who’s afraid.”
Harry scoffs, but he still can’t even meet Louis’ gaze. He looks down at his damp socks instead. A moment later, he sees Louis’ socked feet enter his field of vision, the toes slightly damp from rainwater soaking through his trainers.
He feels him closer than he’s been in days. And then he can’t help but look at him, at his mouth, at least. Close enough to kiss. “You’re right,” he says quietly. “I am.”
“This probably sounds like a joke,” Louis says, “but I’m not going to hurt you.”
Harry presses the heels of his palms into his eyelids until it hurts. He’s sick of crying. He doesn’t know what else to do but cry. He wants to rewind to two weeks ago when this all felt simpler. Still impossible, still doomed, but simpler. Back when he felt guaranteed to Louis’ touch for however long it lasted. That’s all he wants now.
Then, Louis touches Harry’s wrists. He closes his fingers loosely around them. He gently pulls Harry’s hands away from his face. A shiver runs through Harry’s body when Louis presses a kiss to one palm, then the other.
The only way this makes sense is if Harry is dreaming. He doesn’t have a ton of good dreams anymore. He should probably make the most of this one.
