Would You Want Me?

Late Autumn

Late autumn 🍂

Louis stuck to his word after that day on the swings, he hadn't spoken to Harry since then. He wouldn't even look in Harry's direction, which makes their predicament of being partners in a group project much harder than it should be.

Harry runs his hands through his hair and tugs harshly, irritated that they've been in the library for two hours with just Harry's voice running like a broken record.

Louis, we have to do this project. Louis, please talk to me just about the paper, I won't say anything else, I promise. Louis, I'm genuinely going to pull my hair out if you continue pretending that I don't exist.

So, Harry tries to pull his hair out as promised. Louis doesn't give in. He doesn't even bat an eye. He's nothing if he isn't stubborn. Harry hits his forehead with the heel of his hand repeatedly, hoping that maybe he can maybe knock himself out or wake up from the worst nightmare he's ever experienced.

"Please, Louis, I will get on my knees and beg you to talk to me about this project. I will get on this table and scream that I need you to talk to me, I will genuinely do anything for you to talk to me so that we can do this project," Harry pleads once more.

Louis raises his eyebrows at him. "Why is it so important to you?"

"I need a good grade to graduate," Harry says quickly, thankful for the fleeting moment that Louis acknowledges his existence.

Louis goes back to looking at his book and Harry thinks that he's lost the small amount of interest he had. That is until without looking up from his book he says, "on your knees then,"

"What?" Harry asks with wide eyes.

"You said you'd get on your knees and beg," Louis says still pretending to read with a playful and evil smile playing on his lips.

Harry sets his jaw and considers. "If I do it, will you promise to do the project with me?"

Louis puts his book down and finally looks at Harry. "Yes," he says, playfulness clear in his voice knowing he's the only one having fun.

Harry slams his book closed and slides off his chair to his knees in from of Louis. He takes a deep breath and grits his teeth. "Louis, will you please-"

"Hands," Louis interrupts. Harry looks at him confused. "You're supposed to put your hands together when you beg. Don't half-ass it,"

I hate you, how I ever dealt with you is beyond me, is what Harry doesn't say. Instead, he presses his palms together in front of his chest, suppressed an eye roll, and starts again.
"Louis, I'm on my knees in the middle of the fucking library, begging you to talk to me, please talk to me so we can do this project?"

Louis smiles down at Harry like he's a child. "Is that all you got?"

"Alright, you can fuck off," Harry says getting off the ground and starting to pack his bag.

Louis grabs his wrist to stop him. "I'll do the project,"

"Really? Lou-"

"If you get on that table and scream that you cry after sex," Louis says leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest, obviously amused with himself.

"I don't," Harry says offended.

"I want you to do it," Louis says.

"No,"

"Then I guess I'll just have to go home," Louis says with a dramatic sigh.

"Wait, no," Harry says quickly, stopping Louis from standing up. He sighs, defeated. "I'll do it,"