Young & Beautiful

“Zayn’s,” Harry responds immediately, head held high.
“For what?”
“The picnic. I want full attendance.” What in the--?
“Are you high right now?”
“Of course not,” Harry replies simply, and the conversation dies as they round the corner to
Zayn’s tower.
Louis follows behind Harry’s large strides as they take the stairs, Louis’ mind sputtering in
confusion (because what??) until finally they reach Zayn’s door and press inside, finding Zayn,
Liam, and Niall, all sprawled about in various positions of boredom and/or exhausted stress.
“My loves!” Harry greets grandiosely, spreading his arms in welcome. Louis rolls his eyes from
behind him. “You are cordially invited to a picnic. Outside. Right now. Bring your own teacup.”
Louis snorts. “As if anybody’s actually going to agr—“
“You know, that’s not a half bad idea,” Zayn says from his spot at the table, surrounded by
mountains of books and binders.
… What the actual fuck?
Zayn then looks over to Liam, questioning, gauging his reaction.
“Absolutely not,” Liam replies automatically, and Louis breathes a sigh of relief. “Do you know
how much I have to do?? I haven’t even started my spreadsheet, Zayn. My spreadsheet,” he
repeats with urgency.
“I’m with Payne. Have you been outside? It’s fucking freezing. No thanks. I’d rather stay here,”
Niall says, sprawled on the couch, flicking through his phone.
Zayn rolls his eyes as Harry pouts and Louis performs a mental victory dance.
And then Zayn’s standing, tugging Liam’s arms until he’s in a standing position as well. “Come
on, love. You could use the fresh air. It’ll be fun. Then for the rest of the night we can do your
spreadsheet, yeah?”
Liam pouts, lip protruding ridiculously as he stares into Zayn’s soothing pools that some would
call ‘eyes.’ Louis can see him relenting (which, just great), until finally his shoulders sag in defeat
and he sighs, nodding tiredly.
“All right,” Liam says, looking over to Harry. “I’m in.”
Harry positively beams.
“Yeah, well I’m not,” Niall mumbles from the couch.
“I’ll buy you strippers, alcohol, and mention your impeccable drumming abilities to my father’s
friends,” Harry bribes, bored and impatient.
And Niall shoots up. “Picnic it is, then.”
“Oh, fucking excellent,” Louis says, throwing his arms up as the boys begin to assemble into
warmer clothes, stuffing on stylish jumpers and sliding their feet into thick, leather shoes. He looks