Young & Beautiful

Liam is with a small group of the stuffiest professors—and the most intimidating—but he seems to
be holding up well. His stint in rehab was shortened miraculously (oh, the things money can do)
so he was able to come back in time for this, as well as his final exams and the last edition of the
school newspaper. Convenient. But he’s happy, having said his time in rehab was both useful and
inspiring, and is happily drinking lemon water while he rubs elbows with The Powerful and
laughs cleanly at all of their jokes.
Not too much farther is Zayn. Who currently looks so very bored that Louis has to stifle his
laughter into his glass. He’s surrounded by a throng of girls, eager for his face and name, the
occasional professor stopping by to schmooze; having a father as the chancellor of a school
absolutely has its perks in the form of good grades and favoritism, and absolutely has its downfall
with unwanted attention and empty praise.
Still, Louis wants to laugh. Zayn genuinely may fall asleep standing up. Or perhaps punch himself
in the face.
Briefly, he meets his eye, winks, and Zayn’s lips quirk just barely before he goes back to staring at
the wall, nodding absently to the girl beside him who’s chatting a mile a minute.
And then, of course, there’s Harry.
Harry, who is standing in the middle of a circle of immaculately dressed students and professors
alike, delighting everybody with his wiles and charms, lighting the room with his glimmering eyes
and poison-apple smiles. He drops compliments like rain and warms to everybody’s praise and he
just… Well. He loves the attention. He does. He loves it and it loves him and it’s all a bit
fascinating to Louis.
Then again, everything about Harry is fascinating to Louis.
He watches for a bit longer (he’s decidedly avoiding conversation at the moment, his pleasantries
and small talk having reached their limit) before he finally grabs two glasses of champagne and
begins walking towards the sun and all the planets in its orbit.
Careful to avoid spilling, he slithers through the group, ignores the pointed stares and glares and
hisses as he makes his way closer to Harry.
“… I just enjoy a bit of piano,” he hears Harry saying as he finally breaches the circle. “It should
always be played while learning any subject. Even the tedious ones like Maths are enlightened by
a little Chopin.”
Louis rolls his eyes, taking his place at Harry’s side.
“I enjoy a bit of Adele, myself,” he says as all eyes turn to him, resisting the urge to glare at the
blonde creature that is standing much too close to Harry, with much too enraptured eyes. “But, ya
know. That’s just me.”
Immediately, Harry spins around, eyes brightening the second they find Louis.
“Darling,” he greets, overrun with joy. With the grace of a swan (a rarity with Harry, but he does
have his moments) he clasps Louis’ hand and brings it to his lips, bowing ever so slightly. “I knew
I felt something beautiful stirring up the dust. Hello.” Harry smiles down at him as he straightens,
never releasing Louis’ hand, completely unfazed by their onlookers—some of which are currently
bearing fangs.
Hah. Oh well.