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“You okay there, Curly?” Louis leaned against the counter next to him, eyes dancing.
Harry nodded, “Yup, yup, I’m good. Just, um, like to make sure my resting heart rate is normal, you know? My lo mein was spicy.” God, he really talked some shit.
Louis reached out, pulling Harry’s wrist away and replacing his fingers with his own. Well, now he was fucked. Louis’ fingers were soft, so soft, and causing his heart rate to skyrocket erratically.
Harry was about to force himself to take a step back just as Louis’ fingers twitched. They locked eyes as a thumb brushed over his Adam’s apple and his lungs collapsed altogether when it slowly pressed down. With wide eyes, Harry watched Louis’ flicker to his throat for a split second before it was over, so quickly as if it hadn’t happened. As if he hadn't just put pressure on Harry’s throat.
What. The. Fuck.
__or, the one where harry's mom gets engaged when he's 17 and he's truly, madly, deeply in love with his 23–or 24–year old stepbrother.