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Summary
“I feel like a pin-up of everything I should be at 28,” Louis confesses after a moment. He glances quickly to Harry, concerned he hasn’t phrased himself properly, but she just nods with empathy. And Louis always forgets, he supposes, how Harry really does understand, even if they’re coming at it from different places. They orbit each other, swimming after associations the other never wanted—they always have, and as Louis stands here biting his lip and feeling overcome by stepping into the costume society expected him to pull on as his everyday skin, he realizes that Harry might be the person who understands that best in the world.
or, harry’s a drag queen and louis’ been in love with her for years. an unexpected ode to femininity, in all of its complexity
