The next day Louis wakes up to the sound of his alarm blaring, and with a resigned sigh, he gets up to get ready for school.
It’s only when he’s staring at his reflection in the mirror, toothbrush hanging half way out of his mouth, that he remembers his conversation with Harry last night.
Breath hitching, he chokes on minty foam as he hurries out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, frantically searching for his phone.
“C’mon” he mumbles unintelligibly.
He shakes out his covers, listening for the soft thud of the phone as it falls on the carpeted floor. Snatching it up quickly, he checks his messages, gulping down a breath of surprise and some more foam. The proof is right there, he definitely didn’t dream his conversation with Harry.
He stares at the phone in his hand, not quite believing his eyes, and yelps surprised when the thing comes to life, buzzing away and tickling the palm of his hand.
‘Good morning Lou!’
He stares down at the screen for a few seconds more before a slightly strangled sound escapes his throat, and he promptly drops the phone for the second time that day.
It takes him a minute to calm down. He’s being stupid, he decides, before reluctantly leaving the phone behind and going back to the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth.
Once he’s back in his room, and his heart has calmed down, he goes back to his phone. He takes a deep breath before looking down at it and immediately chides himself for it. It’s only a good morning message, Harry could very well send one to all of his friends, what with Harry being…Harry.
Still that would mean they’re friends right?
‘Good morning’
He chucks the phone away as soon as he hits send, glaring at his trembling fingers, and hating how hot his cheeks feel. He’s ridiculous. He hurries downstairs to have breakfast, before he ends up being late.
His sisters are sat half asleep around the table, but they all wish him sleepy good mornings once he enters the kitchen.
He eats quickly, offering to drop off some of the girls for his mum who’s looking a bit worse for wear this morning. She smiles tiredly at him, but refuses gently, leaning down to kiss the top of his head in thanks.
He drives the short distance to Zayn’s house, barely waiting a minute before the boy is coming out of the house, walking quickly towards the car, to get out of the cold. It’s is still snowing gently, not enough to settle yet, but Louis doesn’t doubt that’ll change soon.
“Morning Lou” Zayn greets him, quickly closing the door behind him. Louis smiles his greeting, shivering at the cold air Zayn brought in with him. They drive in silence for a couple of minutes, and Louis is almost positive Zayn’s fallen asleep next to him, when the boy pipes up with a concerned expression.
“Are you ok Lou?”
Louis looks at him quickly before averting his gaze back to the road. Traffic is slow, due to the weather, everybody being extra cautious.
“Yes, I’m…”
“Lou” Zayn cuts him off before he can think of how to finish his sentence. Good? Fine? Extremely freaking nervous?
“It’s just…I’ve been talking…I’ve been talking to Harry” the words slip out of him together with the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He doesn’t know why he didn’t tell Zayn sooner. He just didn’t.
“Harry, like, Harry Styles?”
Louis doesn’t need to look at Zayn to know his eyebrows are half raised, half knit in a way Louis can never imitate.
Louis nods jerkily, “yeah, we – he spent lunch with me yesterday”
He catches a glimpse of the growing smile Zayn’s sending him, “you guys had lunch together?!” he sounds delighted now, and it makes Louis’ cheeks burn.
“Not like that!” he defends quickly, “don’t make it sound like that, we didn’t have lunch together. We just.. we just spent lunch time… together” he trails off looking sideways quickly, seeing Zayn waggling his eyebrows at him, before setting his eyes back on the road, stomach fluttering because, yeah, that doesn’t sound any better either.
Zayn is still grinning gleefully next to him, so Louis shuts his mouth, determined not to say anything else on the matter for now.
“And then we texted each other last night” it escapes his lips without his permission.
Zayns cackles with laughter next to him, and Louis can’t help but smile, mouth curling up slightly at the corners.
At registration they’re told they have an assembly that morning, so in midst of a lot of groaning and whining they shuffle their way into the hall, taking their seat in the back as it is customary for sixth formers.
Louis spots Zayn easily, apparently not even people taking exams are spared from the painfully boring assemblies. Unsurprisingly his eyes fall on a head of shaggy dark brown hair next. This is the only thing that makes assemblies bearable to him, the fact that he can just stare at Harry and completely ignore whatever the guest the school principal has invited in this time, is saying.
He shifts a bit in his seat, bothered by how the hard plastic chairs are put so close together, which always leaves him squished in the middle of other two students who don’t seem to realise he’s there (he always leaves assembly rubbing his sides, where he’s been hit by a stray elbow or two) while he sits awkwardly, arms stiff and shoulders hunched inwards as he tries not to graze his arm against the person sitting next to him. It always makes his cheeks flame with embarrassment and self consciousness. He hates that.
It’s easy to ignore the sound of their principal chattering on about school events and whatever else she likes to talk about (school uniform seems to be a popular subject, from what Louis has managed to catch).
It’s however harder to ignore the girl sitting next to him, Amanda…something. She has abandoned all pretences of paying attention, and instead swerves around in her seat to chat in what they think are whispers, to the girl sitting next to her. Louis receives a face full of hair as she does. It feels stiff (probably due to all the hair products) and as he shakes it off, he remembers why it is that he doesn’t like girls.
He catches the warning look the teacher sitting at the end of their row of seats throws them, but Amanda remains oblivious, blabbering on to her friend in loud whispers.
Feeling embarrassed for them (since they seem to have no shame) he looks away, eyes falling on Harry once again.
The boy is very obviously not paying attention either, looking around the place as if he’s in search of something.
His stomach swoops in nervously, though a second later he sighs deflated, seeing Harry spot Liam, who is sitting a few rows in front of Louis, and all the way to the right.
Before he can feel stupid about being so hopeful, he sees Harry’s glance bypassing Liam with just a distracted smile sent his way, eyes still looking until they meet Louis’ who immediately looks down, heart beating fast. His hands are trembling where they’re perched on his lap, and his stomach is fluttering at the realisation that this time Harry didn’t just look through him, as he’d done before, but at him.
Unknowingly, his eyes go back to Harry, who to his surprise, is still looking at him, neck craned in what must be a painful position, and smile widening once he sees that Louis’ attention is back on him. Nervously Louis smiles back at him, cheeks warming at the sight of Harry beaming.
There’s a hushed hiss of “Harry Styles, turn around!” that breaks their gaze. With a reluctant sigh, Harry turns back forwards, though not before sending Louis a cheeky wink over his shoulder.
Louis looks back down, bringing his cold hands up to his cheeks in hopes of cooling them down, and ignoring the excited whisper of “he was looking at me!” next to him and their teacher’s “hush ladies!”
Surprisingly, Harry is already there when he gets to English later that day. He’s once again sitting in Zayn’s usual seat, and Louis stops for a second, still surprised by Harry’s presence. Someone bumps lightly into him, and he scuttles away to his seat with a mumbled apology, face painfully red.
Harry greets him with a lopsided smile, but embarrassed, Louis can’t say much more than a murmured ‘hey’ looking down at his lap, wishing his skin would do a better job of covering up his blushes.
“Lou? You okay?” Harry leans towards him, hand resting on the edge of Louis’ desk.
Louis looks at it; Harry has great hands, big and soft looking, fingers long and nimble. Louis really wants to hold them, or for them to hold him. He’d settle for either.
He looks up startled, when Harry clears his throat, there’s amusement playing on his face, and Louis’ barely cooled down cheeks warm up again. Louis only hopes it doesn’t look as obvious as it feels.
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.. what happened to your hand anyway?” he looks pointedly at the white bandage wrapped around Harry’s left wrist.
“Oh” he looks surprised at the sight of his own bandaged wrist, as if he’d forgotten it was there, “I hurt it at football practice”
Louis frowns, “does that happen a lot?”
“What?”
“You getting hurt?” he wonders whether the concern on his voice is too obvious.
“Sometimes, not really” he seems pleased by the fact, which Louis can’t exactly understand.
Their teacher walks in then, and Louis tries to focus on the lesson as he usually does. He finds it a lot harder though, with Harry sitting so close by. He is painfully aware of the younger boy’s every move, is often distracted by Harry calling out his name softly, leaning in so close Louis can feel his radiating warmth, the minty smell of tic-tacs invading his senses.
By the end of the lesson, he feels a bit drunk.
They walk out together, and they are barely out of the classroom when Harry is whisked away by one of his friends, calling out a loud “see you later Lou!” at Louis who waves him away, with a heavy heart.
Noticing the looks he’s getting he turns away, head bent down, telling himself he should be grateful. He’d never thought he would even get to be friends with Harry, which he supposes they kind of are now, so he should just stop wanting things he can never have, and enjoy their odd friendship while it lasts.
He barely manages to stay awake for his next lesson, which is business, and his book remains empty, just like his English book stayed, page blank with the exception of a few doodles on the margin. They weren’t very good, and they made him miss Zayn a little bit.
He couldn’t wait for the end of the year, when he’d finally be able to drop the subject.
Louis texts Zayn at lunch, because it’s break and even though Zayn can’t leave the art room, this is still his lunch. He asks him how his painting is going and receives a ‘the painting is fine, Ms Henley won’t be for much longer, if she keeps breathing down my neck’ that makes him laugh, though he immediately tries to quieten it, cringing at how loud it sounds in the empty corridor.
“Who are you texting?” Louis jumps feeling someone’s – Harry’s fingers poking his side, and turns around, surprised to see him standing next to him, grinning.
“Hey” he finally greets, leaning down to give Louis an awkward hug, since he’s still sitting down.
Louis flushes all the way up to his hairline. Shocked at the sudden contact, he barely has any time to return the hug, before Harry is pulling away, dropping his bag on the floor and making himself comfortable in front of Louis, as if sitting there with Louis was something he did everyday.
“So, who’re you talking to?” he asks again once he’s situated himself, lunch in hands.
“Oh!” Louis startles, having forgotten about Harry’s question. He clears his throat and wills the blush away unsuccessfully, “just Zayn, I don’t think he’s having the time of his life being stuck with Ms Henley all day, to be honest”
Harry laughs “poor guy”
“Yeah” Louis agrees quietly, “I can’t wait for it to be finished”
Harry looks up curiously, “his exam?” Louis nods.
“What are you trying to get rid of me already?” he asks, face serious for exactly three seconds before his cheeks dimple into a smile again.
“No! I mean, of course not” he wrings his hands nervously, “I just miss him, that’s all”.
Harry nods, but there’s a frown on his face, and Louis doesn’t like it, “how are things with you then?” he asks, trying to distract the sulking boy, he dislikes Harry’s frowns almost as much as he dislikes his own blushes.
“Not bad” he hesitates, checking his watch, “actually I was wondering. Did you want to come over to the hall? My friends kind of want to meet you”
“Oh, I –“ he looks down, heart clenching uncomfortably at the thought of meeting Harry’s friends, Harry’s popular, outgoing, eagerly-watched-by-the-whole-school-population friends. He thinks there must be something wrong with the school heating. He can still see the fluffy snow falling outside, but he feels hot.
“Lou?” he continues when Louis doesn’t answer “it’s okay if you don’t want to go”
Louis swallows with some effort, “no, it’s. You can go if you want” he reassures the younger boy, he doesn’t want him to feel like he has to stay here, he probably misses his friends and is sick of the quiet, and of Louis.
“I mean, you don’t have to stay here”
“Lou,”
“You must want to spend time with your friends”
“Louis,”
“You must be tired of me already –“
“Lou!”
Louis looks up at him startled, feeling hot and awkward and so tense his shoulders hurt.
Harry leans forward and all Louis can think about is how beautiful his eyes are.
“You’re my friend too”
“Really?” Harry nods happily “Yes! And of course I’m not tired of you, you silly boy” he smiles tenderly, “come here” he pulls Louis into a hug, both of them leaning forward a bit and meeting in the middle. Immediately Louis feels his heart rate speed up, and his stomach swooping, and he hopes Harry can’t tell, and he hopes he doesn’t smell sweaty, and he hopes he’s not shaking, and then he pushes those thoughts away determined to enjoy the hug. He feels the tip of Harry’s nose on his neck, and feels the shiver going down his back pleasantly. He rests his forehead on Harry’s shoulder and they stay like that for a few minutes.
“So, you’ll stay?” Louis voice is muffled against the fabric of Harry’s jumper, and though Harry doesn’t answer, Louis can feel him nodding.
“Are you sure? You can – “
Harry pulls away then to look him in the eyes and cuts in, “Lou” he shakes his head, “I’m sure.”