Young & Beautiful

Louis perks up as he pretends to focus on the tray of crumpets, ears alert; the question is just
sincere enough to prompt his interest.
But Harry smiles easily, whipping the napkin off the table and draping it over his lap. “Marvelous.
You?”
“Impeccable.”
“It’s so good to see you in good spirits,” Liam beams, and Louis glances up at Harry’s reaction
which reveals nothing but shallow pleasantries.
“Isn’t he always?” Niall asks jovially, and Harry laughs, everybody smiles, and the not-exactly-tea
party commences.
**
Forty-five minutes later, the tea party is cut short because everyone is drunk and Harry and Niall
are demanding to play golf.
The tea-liquor has been flowing endlessly—Louis is almost positive Liam lied when he said he
put Darjeeling in the teapots. It’s abso-fucking-lutely straight scotch and that’s that—and the pretty
little scones and tarts aren’t enough to absorb the effects.
So the elegant tea party, with the clinking spoons and extended pinkies, has turned into a bit of a
shit show, Louis’ forehead shining as he laughs heartily at a terrible joke that Liam’s just told, all
the while trying to take a picture together which, to be honest, Louis isn’t even good at doing
when sober.
Zayn is also rather inebriated, slung over Roxy and Lullaby like they were stairway railings,
apparently relaying the plots of his favorite books from the sounds of it, his hair falling out of
place and suit jacket crinkling.
And then there’s Niall and Harry, arms gripping each other as they sing pub songs and dance
wildly, teacups thrust in the air, the light brown liquid sloshing out over the sides and peppering
the wooden floors, providing a death trap for any passerby.
And it’s only about 4:30 pm.
“Let’s go golfing!” Niall suddenly suggests in bursting tones, and Harry is right behind him,
chanting the same sentence, cheeks flushed and eyes bright.
“Golfing? I fucking hate golfing!” Louis protests, arm still around Liam’s neck. He catches
Harry’s eyes which have now settled on him, and he throws as good a glare as he gets. The
bastard.
“We can watch while we drink more tea?” Liam suggests, pouring the remains into his awaiting
cup. “Actually, sod it—let’s just bring some vermouth.”
“Or wine,” Zayn drawls with wet lips.
“Or both,” Louis corrects, and Liam grins with delight, eyes squinting.
“I’ll go golfing, Niall,” Zayn says, finally disengaging himself from Harry’s guests.
“Excellent!” Harry thunders, grinning wildly. “Roxy? Lullaby? You must join. I’ll need moral
support if I lose,” he grins wickedly.