"Motherfucker!" Louis yells, eyes popping in front of his mirror the morning after Harry's Sunday visit. "Fuck," he hisses, leaning in and examining his neck that's littered with purplish bruises. It looks like he's been fucking assaulted, beaten up with a baseball bat by someone who kept aiming specifically for his neck.
Louis growls while stomping towards his dresser and starting to vehemently dig through his drawers.
Fucking Harry. The bastard. That motherfucking bastard! This was so his intention. He is a monster. Fucking rude. And evil. He's an evil monster who snuck his way into Louis' shower and probably used the moment to avenge whatever it was that made him mad at Louis in the first place last week. Louis cannot believe he fucking swallowed for him.
Motherfucker.
He finds the shirt he's looking for, holding it up before him in front of the mirror. He doesn't even know why he owns the shirt. He shakes his head grimly, mentally sending daggers across the block. He is going to murder Harry at practice.
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Unbelievers
FanfictionIt's Louis' senior year, and he's dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he's also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy m...
