Chauffeur || l.s

two

Harry's friend, Lindsey, scrunched up her nose when she understood what the curly headed boy was trying to say. "I don't think I'd ever be able to show my face again at school, if I were you," she tells him honestly, pausing like she was thinking it over, "I mean, I don't understand why your father doesn't just get you a new car — It's not like the accident was your fault. Now you have to ride with a chauffeur, how embarrassing."

Harry's cheeks flush a bright red at what she says, shrugging it off. "I know, he says that when he gets back home he'll introduce me to the guy." he sighs and lays back down on his large bed, loving the way his silk sheets feel against his soft skin. Lindsey takes out a tube of dark lip gloss from her Gucci purse, walking over to his large mirror and coating her lips with two more layers.

"I wish I could help you but I don't want to." she giggles to herself, ignoring the hurt look Harry shoots her. She ties her red and black flannel tighter around her waist to try and get the hourglass figure she had always wanted. Lindsey turns back around and looks at Harry with an eyebrow raised, smacking her lips together and placing her hands on her non-existent hips. "Anyways, I kind of find it hard to believe that this guy has been your family's chauffeur for over two years and you haven't met him."

The green eyed boy watches Lindsey with his face scrunched up as she sways her body back and fourth, giggling and admiring herself in the mirror. He clears his throat and lifts a hand up to ruffle his hair, "Well, since I had a very good car I didn't see the need to try and meet him. I remember my father was trying to get me to meet him since I was like, fifteen, but I always refused — even if I didn't have a car at that age because my friends always offered rides."

The dark haired girl hums, making obnoxious duck faces and playing with the ends of her hair as she pretends to listen to Harry. "Tragic." she pulls out her phone and types something, the sound of the clicking of her nails filling the silent room. Lindsey peeks at him from the side of her eye, rolling them when she hears the boy groan. "Derek is asking me if I want to go on another date with him, but I don't know because he always takes me to the poor people restaurants."

Harry lightly scoffs at that, prepping himself up on his elbows, "What kind of date is that? Taking an elegant girl to a restaurant that sells greasy hamburgers . . . disgusting," they both laugh at that, placing their hands on their chests as they do, "Obviously reject him, if that guy doesn't have the money, he doesn't have the honey." he reaches over to his nightstand and grabs a jar full of bubblegum, popping it open and placing one in his mouth.

Lindsey whines and runs her fake nails down her face lightly, taking a piece of gum that Harry offers her. They sit in silence for a bit, blowing up their gum so it forms like a bubble and then laughing lightly when the other person pokes their fingernail against it so it pops. "The thing is he's really sweet — and I know, he may not be the richest guy that I hang out with but that doesn't mean I can't like him for . . . him." she blushes.

The curly haired boy snorts, biting down on his lower lip. "Well, I don't know about you but I'm going to marry someone who has a lot of cash so we can be rich together." just as Lindsey was about to open her mouth to say something, there is a light knock on his door. "Yes?" he says rather loudly, getting up from his bed and putting on his bunny slippers.

His maid, Claudia, opens the door slowly, towels in one hand and disinfecting spray in the other. "Your father is home, he says he wants you downstairs immediately," she pauses momentarily, eyes wandering over towards Lindsey who was still seated on his bed while picking at her nails, "He also said he saw Ms. Thompson's car out in the drive way and wants her to go home."

That causes Lindsey to look up and roll her eyes, quickly gathering all of her things and walking out Harry's bedroom door, shoving the maid away while she does it. Claudia doesn't give any sort of reaction, though, just smiles and tells her to have a good day. "Alright, just tell my father that I have to change out of my lazy clothes and that I'll be downstairs in a moment."

Harry quickly shuts his door when Claudia nods her head, opening his walk in closet and searching for his pink tennis skirt that he loves. He makes a happy noise when he finds it, slipping off his silk robe and sliding the skirt up his long, lanky legs. He roams around some more for a crop top, finally picking one that says princess on the front. To finish his outfit he puts on a pure light pink jacket that always makes him feel so small.

He shuts the door behind him when he steps out of his room, his large feet padding down the hallways and stairs until he makes it to the main level where one of their living rooms is. Desmond looks up from the floor and smiles when he sees his son, hanging up whoever he was on the phone with. "Louis is just outside polishing up the car, come on I'll take you to him."

Harry nods his head and follows his father outside, licking his lips as he slowly looks around and tries to find this Louis person. He gets knocked out of his thoughts when he hears a light voice that certainly does not belong to his father. Harry turns his head and his eyes widen at the man in front of him. He was gorgeous. The man had brown, fluffy hair messily put to the side, striking blue eyes, thin pink lips that he just wanted to bite, and a little bit of a mustache and beard and Harry could only imagine what it would feel like to be eaten out by—

"Son, this is Louis. He's my most favorite chauffeur that has ever worked with me." Desmond gestures with a small smile on his face. Louis may or may not have been checking Harry out while his boss introduced his son to him.

The blue eyed man sticks out his hand for Harry to shake, a large grin set on his lips. "Hello, Harry, your father tells me that your car had gotten into an accident so you'll have to be riding with me for a month or so. I hope that won't be an issue for you." Louis smirks when he sees the boy quickly shake his head, his cheeks flushed a subtle pink that matches the color of his skirt (that barely covers his ass, might he add).

"I — not at all," Harry sounds breathless, nervously tugging at the hem of his crop top, "but, I have a question," he pauses and Louis nods, "since you'll be taking me to school every morning . . . when will you be ready to drop me off? My classes start at seven." he explains, voice quivering and if his father wasn't here, he would have already been making out with Louis in the car.

The man shrugs, clasping both of his hands together and Harry's eyes widen when he see's a 28 tattoo on his fingers. "I guess I'll be ready by six thirty, then." He answers and the boy nods, turning around so he can follow after his father who already walked away about five seconds ago because he had gotten a call. Louis' eyes skim over Harry's crop top, reading the word and he pulls him back slightly, whispering in his ear, "Pull your skirt down a little, princess."

NOTE: fuck.