Young & Beautiful

Harry’s smile falters. “No I don’t.”
“Yeah, mate. You do.”
And now Harry is openly scowling at him. “I like them.”
Louis rolls his eyes, and inspects the tiny lock painted on Harry’s wrist. “That one’s all right
because it’s small. I hate tattoos, by the way. Oh, what’s that say? Some script, it looks like. You
get your girlfriend’s name?” Louis asks in a patronizing voice, poking at Harry’s diamond studded
watch and the words written underneath in boldface.
Harry immediately rips his hand away, movements jerky and eyes glaring with an intensity Louis’
never encountered before, truly startling him. His eyes, glinting a deep green that holds no
ceremony or pretense, bore into Louis, and, fuck. For the first time, Louis feels like he’s looking at
an actual person and not a manikin.
Louis feels like he may actually be looking at Harry Styles.
“Don’t touch my watch,” is all he says, and even his voice loses its musical mockery, instead
settled low and monotonous.
“Why? Because you’ve got real diamonds embedded in it like a nice little posh boy? Don’t want
to smudge them?” he presses, his own temper prickling.
For a second, Louis wonders if Harry is going to punch him, and his blood begins pumping with
fire, his temper charged and ready to go.
But then it’s gone.
The scowl, the frown, the realness—it's all gone, replaced by another charming smile and a
cardboard stare.
“Of course they’re real diamonds,” Harry says, voice back in place. “I’ve never understood the
reason for fake ones. I like things to be genuine,” he says, and isn’t that a joke?
“Perhaps price has something to do with it,” Louis says dryly. “Because, you know, not
everybody was born into extreme, undeserved wealth?”
Another flicker dances across his face for the briefest of seconds, soon replaced by a large grin. “I
suppose. But price has never been an issue with me.”
Louis stares.
There are a thousand bitchy things he could reply with. There are a thousand smacks he could lay
on this boy.
But instead, Louis just blinks, and settles for, “I’m going to go over here now,” and walks away.
**
About half an hour later, Harry finds him again, as soon as Liam and Zayn depart to refresh their
drinks, leaving him alone.
“You look painfully sober. Are you sure you’ve enough to drink?” he asks, striding up to Louis,
and he’s wearing a large white t-shirt over his pink trunks, large, peculiar sandals on his feet.