young and beautiful || larry s.

chapter 31

"You've got to lure him in with your nuts?"

And when Louis looked over, Niall was laughing hysterically, silently, into his pillow, face pink and bright.

"You're a complete idiot, do you realize that, Ireland?" But he felt his lips quirk.

"Not as much as you are," Niall chuckled, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, cheeks soft in a blushing pink. "You've finally realized you're in love with Harry and you're not even going to tell him because you're afraid. Fuckin' child."

"I'm not afraid!"

"So then tell him."

"He's a squirrel, Niall!"

"Can I go now?"

Again, Louis glared, folding his arms across his chest and kicking a foot out, colliding it with Niall's shin. "No. Absolutely not. You're here for me tonight and I have a lot of shit to sort out. Now drink some water and sit back because I've got to start deciding whether or not to tell Harry fucking Styles I'm in love with him and whether I want everything that goes along with that."

"Like the cat statues?"

"Like the cat statues," Louis confirmed before sighing and laying his head atop Niall's shoulder.

They talked for about two more hours before Niall started snoring obnoxiously in the middle of one of Louis' soliloquies discussing the subtle differences between Harry's amused smile and Harry's shy smile.

So.

Louis really hasn't slept all that much. And waking up to the knowledge that Harry called him last night-probably around the time he was insisting that his lips had the ability to unlock the secrets of the world-is more than a little jarring.

But he sets his tidal wave of nerves (or feelings or butterflies or whatever the fuck it is that's swimming in his stomach) aside, instead focusing on waking up, getting dressed, and heading to his lectures because, even if he leaves this term gutted like a fish because of potentially unrequited love, he is going to do well. He is going to do well and he is going to succeed at this school.

Does that have something to do with Charles? No. Is he somehow, secretly, trying to prove to himself that he really is smart and will be fine in life? No. Has their meeting only reignited the fires of defiance and pride that only his own father can create within him? No.

No, Louis is independent and fine and unaffected. He just really wants good marks.

Still, though. He can't help but think about Harry...

And he thinks he's made his decision.

"Off to lecture?" Niall asks, pouring almost an entire box of cereal into an enormous goblet. And where did that even come from?

Louis nods, tucking the ends of his scarf into his jacket. "It'll be a short day, though. Only two courses."

"Cool." Niall pours almost a gallon of soy milk into said goblet.

Louis eyes it wearily as he slides his feet into his Vans, one hand balancing him on the wall. "I'm, er, gonna tell Harry today. About, you know. The feelings."

The carton of soy plonks down upon the bronzed granite of the counter, Niall's eyes growing wide. "Yeah? You're gonna grow a fuckin' pair?"

"I myself would have phrased it better, but yes." Louis tries to smile, his stomach careening, his cheeks stiff with cold terror. How is he doing to do this if he's already terrified?

Niall's expression is warm as he clunks over to Louis, throwing his cream jumper-clad arms around his body, hugging him tightly to his chest. His grin is wide and honest, shining like the sun on snow, and he smells expensive and cozy and Louis feels his stomach spike even more, but this time with affection as he smiles into Niall's shoulder, wrapping his arms around his middle.