Apocalypse | L.S [Completed]

VIII

The dark grey sky and the pouring rain added to the gloom of Louis' mood. He drives through the mist covered roads at the brink of dawn as he returns from Zayn's, driving back to his cave of dark and quiet. The pattering of rain and the soaked trees adds a sense of serenity to the usually bustling streets of the city and Louis feels that this is where he grew up and not on the runway for success hungered rats.

The rain-blurred statues of the St.Vincent's park and the swaying damp willows tempt Louis' eyes when he passes by the mist hazed park. Having about five more hours to kill before going to the office and no signs of sleep, a hangover washed Louis decides to take a much needed walk through the old Victorian park. Parking his car near the entrance, Louis walks inside the dimly lit park, rain soaking his blazer ridden shirt. A gash of wind sends shivers through his now drenched body and Louis takes it in like an alcoholic drinking his drink.

Louis pulls out a cigarette, standing under a tall weeping willow, the sound of the rippling rain and the swishing leaves starting to intrude his mind instead of the ever worrying thoughts. With a long inhale of the murderous smoke, Louis opens his rain dripping eyes and drinks in the mellow sight, the sky lighting up a bit now. But, soon, his eyes land on a lanky figure running through the lamp lit trail of the park under the ruthless rain. The odd thing about the figure is that it is not running away from the rain but it is, rather, running under the rain and it intrigued Louis.

The figure nears as it continues to jog, unaware of Louis' gaze on it, until Louis can make out it as a him with soaked neck length hair. As he walks further, Louis sees the familiar pale, ivory skin and soon his eyes dart to the curious greens looking at him. His lips a little extra pink and coated with a layer of rain, and his ivory cheeks carry a blush due to the cold. Clad in a pair of sport shorts and a black track-jacket, Harry stands huffing and gasping for air as he kept his eyes locked with an equally soaked Louis.

"Mr. Tomlinson?"

"Mr. Styles." Louis acknowledges and hopes the conversation ends there(not). "What are you doing here?" Harry asks eyeing Louis' attire, a crease gracing the bridge between his brows.

"I own this park." Lie.

"No, you don't."

Harry flashes him a sunshine smile, confidently replying. "How do you know that I don't? I could own it and you would not even have the slightest of idea." Louis says trying to pester the younger. "It's government property, Mr. Tomlinson. You can not own it," Harry replies proudly, his bunny teeth mocking Louis. "Don't tell me you were a nerd back in the day," Louis huffs as he imagines Harry being a know-it-all type, correcting everyone or providing facts every now and then. He'd look cute. "There's nothing wrong with educating oneself Mr. Tomlinson. And for your information, I took my studies rather seriously." Harry beams looking at Louis, who simply takes another drag from the roll. Harry eyes him with murder in his eyes, the burning roll; the victim.

"Don't do that."

"Will you stop acting like my mum. I'm your boss for fuck's sake!" Louis growls but that doesn't affect the dimpled boy. "We are not on office grounds and I will not stop until I've got you to quit this nasty habit of yours." His voice filled with determination and Louis doesn't understand why Harry won't leave him alone. Did he kill his dog or summat?

"Many have tried Mr. Styles but none have had the pleasure to succeed. I'll see you try."

The tips of Louis' lips curl into a proud smirk. But the sudden thought of him conversing with Harry contours an astound frown on his beautiful face. He isn't used to having conversations with people, not when it doesn't include business. He doesn't generally talk with people apart from Liam and Zayn and a few others.