Eager to reach his families expectations, Louis lives a life of secrecy and denial. In one of the most respected households in Doncaster, there's no room for mistake.
But when Louis meets Harry styles in his first year of boarding school, it seems...
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Song: Sedated by Hozier
"I'm staying with you, that's final" Louis said firmly, though his words were muffled by the toothbrush lodged between his teeth, toothpaste threatening to spill from his mouth.
"Just go, don't miss classes because I'm in a shitty mood" Harry replied with a dull voice. He was curled up in his bed, hair matted against his forehead with his hands clutching the duvet right up to his chin. His eyes hurt, every blink he made feeling dry and restricted, lacking any moisture from the continuous hours of crying during the night after experiencing another of his terrorising nightmares.
November 21st.
"You being in a shitty mood is all the more reason for me to stay" Louis stated, pausing to spit his toothpaste into the sink. "Lessons will be boring without you there anyway. I'll have nobody to take the piss out of" he teased, turning the cold water back on to rinse out his mouth.
"And you think I want to be taken the piss out of today? When I'm in a shitty mood?" Harry scoffed, rolling over to face the doorway of the bathroom. Louis was stood in the doorframe wiping his mouth with a white towel, the only garment of clothing on his body being a pair of loose sweatpants. His hair was still a tousled mess from sleep, and a lack there of, but Harry couldn't deny the 'style' suited him. "I don't think I'll be a very amusing participant in our bickering today"
"Nonsense" Louis threw the towel to the floor, causing Harry to roll his eyes at his antics, knowing he would be the one to pick it up again. "I think our bickering will cheer you up. You've said it yourself, our arguments are rather entertaining"
Though they had adapted to their newfound friendship over the past few weeks, it was still common for them to argue over insignificant things from time to time.
Louis still complained when Harry woke up too early in the morning, and Harry would shout at Louis for never hanging his clothes back up in the wardrobe. Harry often liked the window open, going on tangents about the benefits of fresh air and his hatred for a stuffy room, whilst Louis couldn't stand the winter cold and would dramatise his body temperature until Harry would finally give in and close the window.
Just last week, Harry had found the remaining cigarettes that Louis had stolen from his father, and proceeded to flush them down the toilet. Of course when Louis found out he had been livid, something Harry still didn't understand as the boy wasn't an active smoker, and had refused to talk to Harry for the rest of the day, sulking in his bed, his eyes shooting him a glare every so often.
"You don't even smoke Louis! Why are you so bothered? It's not like you're addicted"
"That's not the point! What if I did want to smoke, hm? I'm not going to fish them out of the bloody sewer!"
The argument had ended by the morning, when Louis had stopped him by the door before class with a reluctant 'I forgive you', his tone still sharp and snipped, his head tilted up as he strutted past him. Harry had only laughed in return.
