Delinquent - L.S.

Three

Harry felt like he was living in an alternate reality. The stranger who saved him from two scary guys in an alley is one of his mother's clients who is now staying with them and probably going to his school! It was crazy. Sure, his mum didn't see it like that, but she didn't know about Harry and Louis' previous encounter.

He wondered who Louis was. Like, what had he done to get to the point of having nowhere to go and only a social worker to care for him. Harry figured that his mum would have some files on Louis, maybe he could get to them.

He jogged up the stairs and poked his head inside the office (AKA Louis' temporary bedroom). Louis was shirtless with his back to Harry, revealing dark tattoos and many faded scars on his tanned skin. Harry eyed Louis for a moment, his lingering stare confirming that- yes, Harry thought the boy was extremely good looking. He now took notice that Louis was on the phone, sounding upset.

"I'm in London with my fucking social worker, why do you even care?" he spat into the phone. He continued on to say, "It wasn't my choice! I didn't want to. But don't worry, I'll get you what I have as soon as I can." Louis started to pace, turning around and catching sight of Harry. He quickly hung up the phone and shoved it into his pocket. "What are you doing?" he asked Harry, sounding alarmed.

"I came in here to grab something. This was my office like an hour ago," he said matter of factly, stepping past the shorter boy to dig through his mum's file cabinet.

Louis sighed and sat down on the pull out couch. "Yeah, well, sorry to intrude," he replied sarcastically.

"It's fine," Harry mumbled. "I get that you don't want to be here. Let's just be civil until you get to go back home." Sure, maybe he was a little bit offended at Louis' tone. He didn't know why he assumed that Louis would be pleased to stay in London rather than being angry. He didn't know the boy at all. Harry grabbed a file with Louis' name on it, turning around to face the boy again.

A small frown appeared on Louis' face, his eyebrows furrowed. "Home?" he scoffed bitterly. "I think you mean juvie."

"Juvie? You were in juvie?" Harry practically gasped. He knew Louis was bad, but he didn't expect him to be that bad.

"No. I'm here because a stupid cop wants to ship me off to a correctional facility and your mum stopped him. As soon as this is over, he'll try again. And it'll probably work," Louis shrugged sadly.

Harry bit his lip slightly, only managing to mumble an awkward, "Oh." He certainly felt bad, but he was more confused than anything.

"Yeah," Louis trailed off. "So, where can a guy get some booze around here?

Harry just rolled his eyes.

"Oh, come on. I was nearly arrested today for a crime I didn't commit. I think I deserve a little alcohol," the shorter boy continued, hopping to his feet.

Harry didn't know what to say. Did he try to be laid back, or did he give Louis a lecture on the dangers of drinking? Finally deciding that it was wiser to pick his battles, Harry shook his head. "Kitchen. Left side of the fridge. Just please don't let my mum catch you, alright?" he said.

"I'm not gonna get you in any trouble, Princess. About last night or about this," Louis winked with a small smile.

Harry moved towards the door, he didn't want to endure Louis' sickeningly delightful charm any longer. "First off, I'm not your princess. Second off, just go drink your beer and be quiet. I'll be down the hall if you need me," he huffed, trying not to smile.