Harry Styles is a sensible, responsible man.
Louis Tomlinson is a rude, disobedient boy.
What happens when Louis' mother is fed up with his behavior and calls the only person she can think to call, her old friend Harry Styles.
Can Louis trust Harry...
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Harry's POV:
"Come on, Louis, I'm allowed to be proud of you." I told the small boy as we drove back to the flat. He groaned quietly and wouldn't look over to me.
"There's nothing to be proud of." He muttered, facing the window.
"Of course there is!" I argued, "You heard Dr. Amin, he wouldn't stop saying how well you did." I reminded him. I saw him cross his arms and slump in the seat out of the corner of my eye.
I smiled when an idea popped into my head to show him how proud I am.
"Harry, you missed the turn." Louis informed me.
"I know." I responded, glancing at him to see a confused look on his face.
"Dear god. Where are you taking me?" He sighed, resting his head back against the seat.
"I don't want to ruin the surprise." I sang excitedly, remembering the directions vividly.
"Oh, of course, what was I thinking." He exclaimed sarcastically. We drove in silence for a moment before Louis groaned again.
"Harr-ee." He stretched out my name impatiently. "Why can't we just go back to your flat?" He asked.
"Because I want to bring you somewhere." I explained simply.
"Just tell me where we're going so I can decide if I want to go." He tried to bargain. I smiled fondly and shook my head, earning me another annoyed groan.
"Tell me." He muttered. I forgot how impatient he could be.
"No."
"Well, fuck you." He mumbled with a sigh.
"Lou." I warned, having asked him to tone down the swearing multiple times. "Please, you know I don't like disrespect." I corrected softly, as I pulled into a small car park.
I parked in front of the small bakery and turned to Louis.
"Harry." He sighed, a very small smile tugging on the corner of his lips.
"Remember?" I asked, getting a little nod from him. He had completely hidden his smile by now.
We were at the small cupcake shop I would take Louis to all the time as a kid. Whenever he got a good test grade, which was often as a five year old, we went.
"I..I," He sighed, staring at the door. "I don't want a cupcake." He told me unconvincingly.
"Why's that?" I shook my head with a smile, unbuckling my seatbelt.
"I don't even like cake." He mumbled, looking out the window. I held in a laugh, and sighed, wondering why he was lying about this.
"Are you forgetting how long I've known you?" I glanced at him, shooting him an amused look. "I knew you as a five year old, Lou."
