Young & Beautiful

“That’s all I’m gonna say,” Louis promises, but it’s more a promise to himself than Harry, and
Harry watches his face. “I have no right to judge you, do I?” he continues, fingers twitching with
the effort, and Louis slathers on a smile.
Harry just stares back, gaze hardening.
Louis avoids his gaze, instead observing the room, but he feels every languid blink of Harry’s
eyes, every second of his intent stare that is burningly fierce on the edges.
“What are you doing?” Harry asks suddenly, cutting the stiff silence, and his voice is strong but
holds no humor.
Shit. So Louis is being too obvious.
He scrambles for an answer, suppressing his natural instincts and searching for something that is
both accommodating and subtle.
“Waiting for you to tutor me,” he settles with, and he smiles once more.
Harry glares. “Right. Well. I don’t feel like it right now,” he says quietly, turning his back and
beginning to pour himself a drink. His shoulders are heavy and his hands fumble, but his face
remains impassive as Louis stares, gripping the strap of his shoulder bag.
He wants to ask why. He wants to ask about Des. He wants to ask a thousand previously
unanswered questions in the hopes to get a little bit closer to getting an answer.
But, no, that isn’t what he’s agreed to do today. Today is about Louis catering to Harry. Treating
him specially and carefully. Treading on thin ice.
So Louis says instead, “All right. We don’t have to, if you’d prefer.”
Harry pauses before turning to look at him. “What?”
“We don’t have to if you’re not in the mood.” Louis smiles as kindly as he can. “Whatever you
want.”
Harry quirks another eyebrow. “Is that so.”
Louis nods, chewing the inside of his lip.
“All right, then. Sit down,” Harry instructs.
And Louis sits down.
“Stand up,” Harry says almost immediately, turning his body to face Louis fully, and a coldness is
slowly overcoming his features.
Louis bites back a glare as he slowly stands up.
They stare each other down, disgust and anger dancing within the lines of Harry’s face, the
shadows under his eyes darkening as he watches a silent Louis who has absolutely no fucking
clue as to what’s going on.
This is backfiring.
This is totally, totally backfiring. Harry is going to probably tell Louis to scrub his toilet or
something, and why the fuck did he think this was a good idea?