Young & Beautiful

“Yes you do.”
“…Well, I’m not going.”
“Louis.”
He pouts at Niall, sinking still deeper into the cushions. “You should have heard how foul he was
to me yesterday! I’m not tolerating that again! I might kill him.”
“Just go, you need the help.”
“No.”
“Louis.”
“You can’t make me.”
“I’ll just tell him to come here.”
Louis stares at Niall, jaw dropped. “You wouldn—“
“You know I would.”
He narrows his eyes, sitting up on his elbows. “I actually hate you, Niall Horan.”
“Fine. Just go, goddammit. And let me fuckin’ sleep!”
And as much as Louis hates following orders, he does actually go, flicking off the TV and game
console while donning Niall’s jumper and fluffing up his hair with one hand, ignoring the pangs
of dread in the bottom of his stomach at the prospect of another tense afternoon spent with Harry
Styles.
**
“You came,” Harry grumbles as soon as he opens the door, his tone suggesting he was ardently
hoping for the opposite.
“I came,” Louis repeats flatly, and his own tone suggests the same.
With a long suffering sigh, Harry walks back into his rooms, leaving the door wide open for Louis
behind him.
“Anymore gremlins today?” he asks as he makes his way inside, dumping his bag on a chair and
settling onto the chaise longue.
“I’m alone,” is all Harry snaps, stalking past Louis in his black button up and black trousers, hair
quiffed and messy with curls. “I’ll just get this written up, then, seeing as it’s Friday and I have a
life to live.”
“As do I. I have to get ready for that party Zayn’s been talking about,” Louis sniffs, smoothing out
his [Niall’s] jumper.
Harry pauses, staring at him with something akin to revulsion. “You’re going?”
“Of course I’m going,” Louis glares. “Zayn’s my mate.”
“He was mine first,” Harry counters as he sits at the desk, eyebrows furrowed deep as he dips his