Christmas.
Christmas Prompt.
For every single Christmas over the past five years, Harry had spent it with the Tomlinson family. It was tradition, by this point. He and Louis lived in London, and they’d leave a day before Christmas Eve. Louis would drive, would complain about the traffic, and Harry would play Christmas music the entire ride up, and they’d usually stop for a cup of hot cocoa at the bakery in Doncaster before they made it to Louis’s house. Plain and simple, it didn’t feel like the holidays if they weren’t surrounded by Jay and Dan and the kids, with stockings hung by the fireplace and the Christmas tree standing tall, the entire house decked out in red and green and gold and silver. It was loud and it was chaotic and there was nothing that Harry loved more. He was in culinary school, and he always insisted on helping Jay out in the kitchen, making a batch of cookies that was usually devoured by the kids within a half hour. They’d celebrate Louis’s birthday, too, forcing him to wear a Santa hat while he opened his presents. And after a while, the kids would all go to bed, but Harry and Louis would usually stay out on the couch for a bit, maybe watching a holiday movie and sipping on their tea, tangled up together underneath a blanket. And, oh, they always fucked before they went to bed. Christmas tradition, Harry insisted. It was Louis’s birthday present. They’d spend Christmas morning with Louis’s family, opening presents and eating pancakes before they’d make the drive to Holmes Chapel, where Anne always had dinner waiting for him. And, for five years, that’s just the way things went. They’d been /happy/. But it was December 23rd, and Louis had broken up with Harry all the way back in September, and nothing felt right anymore. This year, Anne was going on a Hawaiian cruise for the holidays, and Gemma was visiting her boyfriend’s family, and Harry had been set on spending Christmas alone until he’d gotten that phone call from Jay. Louis wasn’t coming home that year, apparently, and the girls had been begging for Harry to visit, and how could he say no? That’s how he found himself back in Doncaster on the day before Christmas Eve, the lights twinkling on the tree as Doris sat in between his legs on the couch, giggling while he braided her hair. It didn’t feel normal, no, but it felt like home, and Harry was grateful he’d come. The other girls were spread out on the couch and floor while a Christmas movie played on the television, and in the background, there was a knock at the door, but Harry didn’t pay much attention until he heard somebody behind him clearing their throat, and he was pretty sure his heart just about stopped when he turned and saw Louis standing there, eyebrows raised.
