Young & Beautiful

“Where were you tho?” Niall then asks, soft blue eyes still set on the piano, and Louis is officially
convinced that, yes, his thoughts can indeed be heard as he nearly drops his glass. “All this time? I
thought you just went to your lesson with Harry?”
And oh shit.
“Well, obviously I did, Ireland. But then, uh….” Louis eyes the bottles of liquor sitting on their
makeshift bar on the far end of the living room. “Well. Then mum called. You know how it is.”
Niall glances up curiously. “No. What happened?”
“Well, she were a right mess. Didn’t want to deal with it, did I? So…” Louis slides his hands into
his back pockets, doing his best not to bite his lip or fidget but rather instead appear aloof.
“So?” Niall pushes, hands slowing on the piano. “Then what happened? You stayed at Harry’s?
He let you?”
“No. He, uh.” Louis flicks his hair out of his face. “He took me to his house.”
The piano stops.
“What?”
“He took me to his house. Just, like, let me tag along while he looked for…something. Someone.”
Niall stares, displaying the confusion Louis feels. “He was looking for someone?”
“Yeah. Couldn’t find him though.”
“Him?”
“Yeah. I guess. I don’t know.”
“Des?” he voices curiously, and Louis feels a cold drip in his spine.
“I honestly don’t know, mate.” He pauses. “Why? Have you heard something?”
He shrugs, stroking the keys with his fingers. “Father called me a bit ago to say I didn’t have to
come in to the studio tonight. Said recording’s on hold until they can get ahold of Des. Didn’t say
anything about him missing, but. Could explain it.”
And Louis’ stomach grows cold as well.
They remain that way, Louis standing in the kitchen, leaned up against the counter for support as
he stares blankly at the floor, and Niall petting his piano like a kitten.
Louis’ thoughts are barreling down a dark tunnel, his attempts at keeping the darker thoughts at
bay failing, and the awful thought of ‘Why did Harry look so perfectly terrified while searching
for that nameless something? Especially if that nameless something was his father?’ is beginning
to form, when Niall suddenly peers up at Louis, curious in an uncomplicated way.
“I thought you hated each other.”
Louis blinks. “Well. Yes.” He sighs and flicks his hair again, more nervously than out of
necessity. “And no. I think something’s wrong with him.”
“You think?”