Home Is Where The Heart Is

It’s been years since Harry last saw Louis. They met in high school and they fell head over heels in love with each other. But right before they went off to college, they split up and ever since then, Harry has felt incomplete. He’s just lost his job and his landlord kicked him out of his apartment because he couldn’t pay his rent. He’s got no place to go. Harry decides to go on a journey to find Louis. After all, home is where the heart is, and Harry’s heart is forever with Louis. Copyright 2014

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21. Back Home

Louis' POV

"Wake up sleepyhead," Harry says, shaking me awake. "We have a plane to catch."

I groan and gesture at him to go away. "I'm tired," I moan, pulling the covers up to my chin and refusing to open my eyes.

"We can't miss our flight," Harry chides. "We're going back to America today, remember?"

"I think I'll just stay here," I reply into the comforter.

"I guess we'll see about that," Harry says mysteriously and walks away. I hear water running in the bathroom and I relax once more. He's probably getting a shower, which means I have at least ten more minutes in bed. I settle back amongst the blankets and try to fall asleep again.

All thoughts of sleep are lost, though, when ice cold water pours down on me, shattering the peacefulness and condemning Harry to a slow, painful death.

He's grinning down at me, way too happy for someone who just gave their boyfriend hypothermia.

"You've taken this too far," I say, pushing back the blankets and frowning down at my soaked clothes. "And you're going to pay."

"Not if you can't catch me!" Harry taunts, racing around the room much to my despair.

"It's too early to run," I complain, flopping dramatically onto the couch. I place the back of my left hand on my forehead and the other on my heart. "I can't do it anymore," I cry. "Running requires too much effort."

Harry laughs outright and comes over to me. "Seriously though Lou, we have to leave in half an hour."

I haul myself up from the sofa and plod into the bathroom. I don't particularly want to go home. Things are more romantic here and I have more opportunities to do fun things with Harry. Back home, we've been to all the restaurants and went shopping in all of the stores already. That's the bad thing about small towns. It doesn't take long until you've exhausted all of your options.

I stand in the shower for too long, savoring the hot water and the silence. I'm about to turn off the water when Harry bursts in.

"Louis William Tomlinson! If you aren't ready to go in the next ten minutes I will leave you behind!" he exclaims, clearly exasperated.

"Calm down Hazza, we won't be late," I reply confidently.

"I'm leaving in exactly ten minutes," Harry tells me, ignoring my remark.

I sigh and turn off the water slowly. I dry off and get dressed in jeans and a simple gray long sleeved tee. I mess with my hair until it sort of lays how I want it to, and go into the room to see Harry standing there checking his watch.

"Right on time," he informs me.

We get to the airport super early thanks to Harold I-Can't-Be-Late Styles, and we end up sitting on the hard plastic seats waiting to board our plane.

"Are you nervous?" Harry asks me suddenly.

"What? No," I respond, although a bundle of nerves have already collected at the bottom of my stomach and I'm not necessarily looking forward to being airborne once more.

"You are," Harry says, peering at me closely. "Don't be. It'll be okay."

"I know everything will be okay, it's more of an irrational fear," I say, embarrassed.

Harry squeezes my hand reassuringly and I instantly feel better.

When we finally board the plane, I let Harry take the window seat and opt for the one next to it. This takeoff is still a little scary, but not as bad as the one going to Paris.

"I honestly can't believe we're leaving already," Harry comments casually, glancing out the window. His face is unreadable, but I detect hints of worry and disappointment.

"Me neither," I admit. "It feels like we just got there yesterday."

The plane is pretty empty in general and I'm happy about it. I love kids, but long plane rides with screaming toddlers and crying infants are not my idea of fun.

I fall asleep on Harry's shoulder and when I wake up we're landing and Harry is smiling goofily at me.

"We're here," he says, gesturing.

"Wow, thank you. I hadn't noticed," I reply dryly, standing up and walking down the aisle with Harry right behind me.

It only takes a minute for our bags to appear on the carousel and we start to look for Harry's mom, who's picking us up.

"There she is," I say, pointing. We rush over to her and she immediately pulls us both into a hug.

"Hi Mom," Harry says, kissing Anne on the cheek.

"How was Paris?" she gushes. "Was it beautiful?"

"It was stunning," I tell her.

Anne takes my hands in her. "Louis it's so good to see you!" She studies me carefully. "You haven't changed much at all," she adds.

"It's so good to see you too," I say, smiling genuinely at her.

Harry and I slide into the backseat of her car and she pulls out of the parking lot. "So am I taking you to Louis' house?" she asks.

"If you could take us to my mom's house...well my old house, that would be great," I say politely.

"Of course!" Anne chirps. The ride only takes about fifteen minutes and soon enough we're pulling into my old driveway.

"Thanks Anne," I say, waving as I get out of the car. "Nice to see you."

Harry hugs his mom and we walk up to the front door together, lugging our suitcases behind us. I don't even have a chance to ring the doorbell or knock before the door flies open and my sisters and brother are there, hugging me and yanking me inside.

Harry and I are greeted with a barrage of questions.

"How was it?"

"Did you see the Eiffel Tower?"

"What'd you do?"

"Did it snow a lot? It snowed a lot here."

"Did you kiss?"

"It was good. Yes, we saw the Eiffel Tower. We did a lot of things. It snowed a lot there as well. Yes, we kissed," I reply, trying not to skip a single question.

My mom's eyebrows fly up when I answer the last question and I blush.

"Alright everyone, let's let Harry and Louis sit down, I'm sure they're tired from their flight," my mom says, taking out suitcases and shooing everyone away.

We spend the next half hour telling them about our French escapades, including the forbidden kiss on the train tracks. Everyone gets a kick out of that one, laughing uproariously.

"I think we're going to go now Mom," I say after a while, standing and stretching.

"Okay," she replies, kissing me on the cheek. "Come back and visit soon." I assure her I will do so and Harry and I leave after bidding everyone goodbye.

"Ready to go home?" I ask, hopping into the driver's seat of my car that my mom brought back from the airport after we left.

"So ready," Harry sighs, slumping in the passenger seat in exhaustion.

We don't talk the whole way to my house, but Harry looks confused when we get there. "This is your house?" he asks.

"Yeah," I say. "Why?"

"I don't know, I just thought there would be more...color or something," he responds.

He's right; my house is pretty bland. It's a plain white with black shutters and the porch is empty except for a pot that holds long dead flowers. The door is a maroon color, which is the only thing that pops out at you when you look at it. There's a withered looking tree in the front yard and another one in the back; nothing seems to stay alive no matter what I do and I'm not sure why.

"Please tell me the inside is much better," Harry pleads. I look away. The inside is not much better. In fact, it might be even worse. When Harry walks in, his eyes widen. "Louis this is so boring. It's so...not you," he tells me.

"I'm not into decorating," I say simply.

"No kidding," Harry says.

My living room is pretty sparse, with only a couch and a deflated beanbag and a TV. The kitchen holds a small table and two chairs that look like they could fall apart at any minute. The sink is full of dishes from before I left and one cabinet door is still hanging open, suspended in time. The tiny dining room contains a grandfather clock that doesn't work anymore, a recliner, and a dusty piano.

"Louis, this is actually pathetic," Harry informs me.

I nod. "I know."

"Come on," Harry says, turning tail and walking towards the front door again.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"We're going furniture shopping. Do you have your credit card with you?"

"Yes," I say reluctantly.

"Good. Let's go," Harry says, opening the door and ushering me outside. Harry drives to the closest furniture store and I hesitantly tag along after him as he goes through the tables, chairs, lamps, and sofas, picking out what he finds suitable.

"I was fine with the way it was before," I complain as Harry picks out the last thing that I apparently need.

"That was when it was only you living there. Now I'm living with you," Harry reminds me.

The words make me smile. Harry's living with me now. The worker at the store tells us that the furniture will be delivered tomorrow and I suppress a groan. I wanted to sleep all day tomorrow. The things I do for this boy.

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