Young & Beautiful

XVI
Chapter Summary
Things make a little bit more sense to Louis.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The next day, before his tutoring session with Harry--and after the most boring day of lectures yet
—Louis fell asleep during all three of them, being awkwardly awoken by others each time, papers
crusted to his face--Louis knocks on Zayn’s door, his nerves jumbling frantically and his palms
sweating with ‘what the fuck am I going to say’.
“Come in,” he hears the silken voice reply, and he pushes the door open, smiling instantly as he
meets with Zayn, who is dressed in black track shorts and a Nirvana t-shirt, paint smeared on his
hands and arms, as he stands before a canvas covered in blacks and grays, speckled with whites.
“Hey,” Louis greets, his hands in his pockets as he slowly makes his way over, feeling rather
awkward and nervous and generally weird.
Zayn smiles instantly as he takes in the sight. “Louis,” he greets, his pallet in his left hand,
paintbrush in the other.
“Er, hi,” Louis greets once more, and his awkwardness is absolutely showing as he mentally
scrambles for an introduction to what he’s trying to get at.
But Zayn doesn’t appear curious or intrigued, instead carrying on as if Louis wasn’t even in the
room.
“I was wondering when you’d come to see me,” he finally says with a smirk, beautiful hazel eyes
catching the crystals in the lights as he studies his work, then dips his brush in midnight blue paint.
“I see you all the time,” Louis replies with a laugh but it’s nervous and light and Louis shoves his
hands deeper into his pockets.
Zayn glances up whilst smearing his brush in the rich color. “You’re here because of Harry,” is all
he says.
Louis gapes. How in the fuck??
“How did you—“
“Relax. Doesn’t matter.” He pauses, running his brush along the top of the canvas, head tilted as
he follows the motion of his hand. “Liam’s at a meeting. So we’re alone.”
Louis nods, understanding the implications, and appreciates the reassurance of privacy. But his
stomach is still queasy. And his shoes suddenly feel too tight, so he taps them against the dark
wood of the floor. They look so dirty against its polished gleam.
He’s never been alone with Zayn before. That, coupled with the awkward subject matter, is