Have I mentioned how this is all Vae’s fault and I’m never forgiving her for doing this to me?
Seriously, guys, stop me now. For the sake of my sanity.
Louis comes home to find Harry curled up in Louis’ jumper on the couch. That in itself isn’t all that strange; Louis often comes home to find Harry curled on/in/under - delete as appropriate - his clothes. It’s not the sort of thing that usually makes him stop dead in the doorway and stare. Usually, it just makes him smile and brings about the urge to either leave Harry be, sleeping like a baby, or pounce on him immediately and tickle him awake.
Today, the sight inspires neither of those feelings in him. Today, there is absolutely nothing Louis can do but stand there staring. And then he stares some more.
Today, Harry is a cat. An actual, real, four-legged, pointy-eared, long-tailed cat with stupidly messy, windswept fur and - when cat!Harry there opens his eyes and blinks sleepily at Louis - Harry’s stupidly green eyes.
“Holy shit,” says Louis. “Hazza, you’re a cat.”
“Mew,” says Harry.
Louis does the only sensible thing he can think of under the circumstances and passes out.