Young & Beautiful

“Yep!” Louis calls from his room. “Suppose I should. I know I’m late, but. Even if he only has
time to write out one of his damn outlines, that still helps more than the notes I get. I hate dons.”
“You hate everything. But have fun, honey! Don’t be out too late—gotta get rested for
tomorrow!” Niall calls cheekily.
“Halloween,” Louis smiles knowingly, and offers his hand which Niall immediately smacks.
“Hallowen,” he agrees, grinning.
“Bye, love,” Louis sings, draping a cardigan over his shoulders and grabbing his bag before
hopping out the door and closing it happily behind him, finally feeling a little more human.
**
As soon as Louis reaches Harry’s door and is raising his fist to knock, the door swings open.
“Where’ve you been?” Harry demands without hesitation, brows knitted, wearing a purple
turtleneck and black trousers that contrast shockingly against his pale, delicate skin.
Louis stares, wide eyed, hand still poised to knock, midair. He notes the affronted rage in Harry’s
eyes and something that almost looks wounded or hurt, and Louis actually glances behind him
because…surely Harry isn’t acting this way about him.
But there’s nobody. And Harry is talking about him.
And….what?
“I’m sorry,” he says automatically, feeling a surging roar of guilt crash into his bones. Why did he
think food was important? Why did he play video games? How could he have been so rude?? “I
was having a terrible day,” he continues, without blinking, staring into Harry’s childlike, wounded
eyes that are desperate to throw a tantrum rather than admit any offense, and fuck fuck fuck, he
feels so guilty, and he’s really not even sure why at this point, but he thinks, maybe, he could be
the most horrible person on the planet. “I went back to my flat because I was hungry. I ate. Are
you hungry? I should’ve come and asked if you were hungry. Do you want to eat? I can eat again.
I’m sorry. Are you hungry?”
And well, yeah, Louis is rambling like a crazy fuck, and his words don’t even make sense (Louis
Tomlinson does not apologize, but for some reason that’s all he ever seems to do to Harry),
they’re just spilling out to fill the quiet spaces, and he feels shocked and awkward, is acting
awkward, but that look in Harry’s eyes is still there and he’s really, really determined to do
whatever it takes to make it go away. Because the most important thing in the world right now is
that look and Louis doesn’t know why, he just knows it’s important and it’s shitty and ugly and
needs to stop.
“I’m not hungry,” Harry grumbles quietly, but his pout is lessened, seeming more lingering than
spirited. He folds his arms over his chest, looking out crossly in the distance, over Louis’ shoulder.
“You could’ve texted.”
“I—“ is all Louis manages, because his shock is actually filling his mouth like a gag and he just
stares at Harry, very nearly flabbergasted.
Because what?
Like, what??