Harry is quiet for a moment and his fingers feel like they’re burning past the fabric of Louis’ jumper, branding his skin. “Can I kiss you?“
This is where Louis should walk away and leave Harry to pirouette and cambré by himself in the faint moonlight shining through the windows. He is a spy and Harry is a dancer. There are lines that should not be crossed.
Louis surges forward.
Louis is a spy and Harry is a dancer. The only real thing they know is each other.
Ao3, Oneshot, Must Read