you're cold and I burn (on hold)

“As much as I’d love to go to the grocery store, I’ll have to decline, I do have other plans I am
sadly obliged to attend.” He says, light as air, running a h<strong>and</strong> though that disarray of chestnut
brown, “But here,” He’s pulling a brown leather wallet, sliding the plastic card across the counter,
“You can put it on me, since you’ve already spent so much on making our home so pretty.”
And just like that, the conversation is over, Harry slipping on his jacket. Louis doesn’t know how
to say thank you, but he doesn’t get the chance before the door is closed <strong>and</strong> Harry’s gone, quick
as that. Well. He really just gave Louis his credit card <strong>and</strong> then left. Who the actual fuck is Harry
Styles?
This gives him a quick moment in time to just try <strong>and</strong> comprehend the situation before him.
Firstly, to make it absolutely clear, Louis does not -repeat- not want flatmate. He appreciates
privacy in the highest <strong>and</strong> most precise form of the word <strong>and</strong> Harry, though not intrusive, is just
always there <strong>and</strong> Louis’ simply not used to that. He’s not used to that at all. He’s not used to the
witty comebacks, or the ‘I’m flirting, kind of, sort of, but in this innocent way that yields the belief
I do this all the time.’ And Harry is just so fucking confident. The way he holds himself, is like
he’s not really going for that persona but it sheaths him anyway. It’s almost like Harry gets his
distinct charisma from something other than his physical appearance, though his presentation is,
well, nicely assembled. Louis just shrugs, he’s known the kid for a day, he’s not going to try <strong>and</strong>
dissect his personality, well, not yet, for that matter.
And there’s really no reason to hate this whole flatmate thing, other than he’s a prisoner to his
clothing <strong>and</strong> misses his nude galavants, but he really misses having this place all to himself, <strong>and</strong>
maybe he just doesn’t know Harry enough yet. He’s still not a hundred percent sure about that.
Either way, Louis is procrastinating this trip to the grocery like it’s his oblivion (he hates shopping
when it doesn’t involve fine home furnishings, he’s not sorry) it’s always so <strong>cold</strong> in there, <strong>and</strong> he’s
not feeling that right this second. But, alas, it shall be the inevitable trip <strong>and</strong> he’s doing nothing but
wasting time. Plus, he’s got Harry’s card, so he can see the bright future of eating cereal that
doesn’t taste like cardboard, <strong>and</strong> fruit that’s actually crisp <strong>and</strong> doesn’t squash under your touch
after being seized from the discount section, yes they have those, <strong>and</strong> Louis frequents them. It’s
bound to feel nice coming home with more than one bag of sustainable goods that he won’t have
to prolong for weeks at a time, he’s going to eat like an average person instead of a mouse, <strong>and</strong> it’s
a lovely thought. Thank you, Harry, you’re just a peach.
And going to the grocery makes him feel very adult which is nice for a few hours, so he does a
quick stretch, quite dramatically, before tucking away the card <strong>and</strong> heading towards the door,
ready to procure an abundant amount of precious cuisines. Exciting.
*****
“Uh, yeah, I’m not so sure about that, maybe just the basics?” Niall vocally shrugs, being
absolutely no help at all, thanks. Louis’ already got the most basics of food, <strong>and</strong> not at all knowing
what else to get. He doesn’t know what Harry likes to eat, <strong>and</strong> since he is paying, it’s only nice to
make sure the load is in his favor. Louis’ just thoughtful like that.
“I mean, what would you like to eat? I need ideas.”
“I eat everything, I can’t even believe you asked me that, Louis, d’you know me at all?”