Young & Beautiful

XX
Chapter Summary
Harry gets a phone call.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Niall’s pounding on the piano like it’s a drum. Even though he has those, too. He’s playing the
most chaotic music on the planet, relentlessly, and he’s stoned and laughing at nothing in
particular and, well. Louis might really kill him because he’s got another exam in a week and he
needs to fucking study.
So he makes a decision that is based purely on logic and nothing else.
“I’m going to study at Harry’s,” Louis calls over the noise, and Niall’s glossed pink eyes smile.
“Cool,” he responds, and continues playing.
This boy. Wow.
Louis slings his bag over his shoulder, throwing one last glare in Niall’s direction. “I’ll be back
later.”
“Tell your boyfriend I say—“
Louis slams the door shut.
Mind still on the events of yesterday—Louis telling Harry about his mum, Harry listening, Harry
asking for his opinion, Harry calling him by his name in an unpretentious tone and actually saying
‘thank you’ which might have made the moon shine brighter—Louis takes off in the direction of
Harry’s rooms.
And while he knows his tutoring session isn’t for about three or so more hours…he decides to just
go for it. Because their time yesterday went well enough. So why wouldn’t today be the same?
Upon reaching Harry’s rooms, he quietly opens the door and prays there isn’t any rampant sex
going on inside. He peers hesitantly into the living room and, nope, there’s not. It’s barren, save
for the sheet music that still rests on the floors and the sheer, vast amount of everything that fills
every nook and cranny.
He’s just about to head towards Harry’s bedroom, when there’s a knock at the door.
Did Harry lock himself out? Is it Niall? Did Louis forget something?
He opens the door cautiously, peering out and—oh. It’s some hipster.
Unimpressed, he opens the door fully, staring the boy up and down openly and judgmentally.
He’s dressed immaculately disheveled and he’s beautiful and exotic, bred from all the money, and
Louis tries not to snort when he notices an ‘anarchy’ tattoo painted on his wrist.