Young & Beautiful

“I didn’t know you read my texts,” Louis blurts, and Harry’s eye snap to him.
“Don’t be stupid. I have a phone, don’t I?”
“But you never respond.”
Harry quiets, before sniffing and looking away. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Just come in. It’ll
have to be a short lesson today.”
“Why?” Louis asks, following him inside and still feeling very blown apart. Because what???
“I have guests arriving in thirty five minutes.”
Guests. Great.
Louis rolls his eyes. “God forbid you cancel.”
“That would be rude. Unlike you, I stick to my engagements,” Harry glares.
Well, shit.
“I’m sorry, Curly.”
“Stop calling me that!”
“But I like it,” Louis protests, stepping towards Harry, who is still folded up like a child and
looking everywhere but at Louis.
“Why? It’s silly.”
“Because. You’re curly,” Louis smiles, and dares to reach out and tug at a loose curl of Harry’s.
Harry’s eyes snap to him, his shoulders seize, but he doesn’t step away, instead allowing the tiny
endearment, before rolling his eyes and folding his arms tighter, turning his face away once more.
He remains silent.
Louis watches him, trying to catch his eye, his smile still present, and it feels soft, not like his usual
smug smirks or obnoxious grins. “Besides, I like silly.”
Pause.
“I know you do,” Harry says at last, and his features are relaxed now, his eyes downcast, but there
is a very, very light upturn of the lips. And, if only in the most technical sense of the word, Louis
thinks it could be classified as a smile. Because each corner of the mouth upturned is a smile,
right? Even if it’s only a fraction higher than usual? Still counts.
And Louis feels like he’s won the lottery. Because thank fuck. Maybe Harry doesn’t hate him.
Maybe even enjoys tutoring him.
Maybe.
“So,” Louis says, and his smile sounds in his voice.
Harry’s quiet, but the ‘smile’ is still there.
“Let’s make this thirty-five minutes the best yet,” Louis declares, and Harry finally meets his eye.