Young & Beautiful

“Don’t want Liam to go out, to be honest,” he says, looking his way.
Surprised, Louis tilts his head in inquiry. “Really? Why?”
Zayn pauses, as if searching for the right words, before suddenly shaking his head. “No reason. I
just…” He looks back to Louis, face neutral. “He likes to be ahead of schedule. I think he’ll regret
going out, that’s all.”
Ah.
Louis nods but…he knows. He knows the reason.
“I’ll keep an eye on him,” he says anyways, quietly, squeezing Zayn’s arm reassuringly.
At that, relief tints Zayn’s eyes, a beautiful and genuine smile lighting up his face. He squeezes
Louis’ arm in return. “Thank you,” he says sincerely.
“You coming, you fuckin’ slacker?” Niall calls, impatient, but he winks when Louis catches his
eye.
Niall is just an incredible winker.
“Yeah, yeah,” Zayn mumbles, rolling his eyes. Lacing his fingers with Liam’s they march out the
door, calling out their farewells and smiling with the promises of the night.
“Good luck again. For real this time, you peasant,” Niall says, only so Louis can hear, as he
passes by him on his way to the door.
“Thanks,” Louis says flatly, before shutting the door in Niall’s laughing face.
Leaving just Louis and Harry. It’s always just Louis and Harry.
And a moment of silence.
“So,” Louis begins, unsure of how to pick up where they left off. He watches Harry at the
window, watches the way his head bows and the lamps in the gardens below illuminate his face in
soft glows. His eyelashes look brittle and bright, his hair sculpted into waves upon curls that gleam
bronze.
Harry is so, so beautiful.
Louis is so, so in love. And it’s still really fucking weird to think it. To know it.
And yet it’s not.
“That was some dinner,” he finds himself saying, just for the sake of speaking.
Harry nods, eyes staring unblinkingly out the window.
“’M glad the boys are going to have fun tonight.”
“You should’ve went with them,” Harry says quietly, never blinking.
Louis cocks an eyebrow. “Why, though? Why would I want to?” He walks to stand beside Harry,
stares openly at his profile. He wants to hold his hand. But instead he holds his arm. “It’s not them
I want to be with right now.” The unsaid words are there.