Young & Beautiful

Harry needed a friend and here’s Louis and Harry is telling Louis he’s happy he’s his friend
and…
Is this real life?
“I’m going to throw up,” Louis says, a little dazed, and Harry’s eyebrows shoot up as he
immediately moves away.
“Are you actually?”
“No, probably not,” Louis continues, still dazed. “I’m just… Drunk.” He replays Harry’s words
over and over and over. “And, just for the record, you really were an incredible twat to me
before.” He smiles, beginning to gain a sense of reality again. “Remember the cheese danish?”
Harry grimaces but he chuckles, covering his face with his hand. “I’m so sorry,” he says, but he’s
actually sort of laughing, so Louis swats at him, but laughs too.
God, he’s feeling so, so much right now. Is this real fucking life?? Is it?
“I mean, seriously! That was so horrible!”
“Well, you were suddenly just acting like everybody else,” Harry defends. “I liked the way you
were before. I liked how you…I don’t know. Um. Challenged me, I guess?” He looks down at his
feet. He’s always looking down. Louis always wants him to look up. So the sky and the sun and
the moon and the stars can see him and realize why they just don’t compare.
Very, very drunk.
“I thought you hated me,” Louis says, grin hurting his face.
“I did a bit.” Harry smiles. “Still do.”
Louis rolls his eyes.
“But, like. You’re a good person, Louis. And, um, you’re, like, strong. And…I admire that.” His
words struggle to surface as he plays with his sleeve, his curls falling into his face, and Louis sort
of wants to tease him about his awkwardness, how his usually polished and showy speech has
been dumbed down to ‘like’s and ‘um’s and spaces in between his words but….
All he can do is marvel.
“You are too, you know. A good person. And strong. Stronger than I could ever imagine to be.”
Harry’s face smooths out into such a gentle sweetness that Louis wants to actually nuzzle it.
Which. Is probably not great.
“Thank you,” he says sincerely, before a yawn overcomes him, large and loud.
“Time to go?” Louis offers as he watches, fingertips tingling from everything, just everything.
“Time to go,” Harry nods, rubbing at his eyes.
And as they say goodbye, smiling, with Harry promising to text Louis the next day, it doesn’t feel
like they’re walking in opposite directions as they trudge towards their rooms in the snowy cold.
Rather, Louis feels positive that they’re walking together, and it melts the snow around his feet.