Under Coloured Trees || Larry Stylinson

6

The next day that Louis comes in for work at the bookstore, Harry's already there. Ugh. Isn't that just anyone's fantasy? Not Louis'.

Harry just looks at him but doesn't say anything, as opposed to the usual insult or total lack of respect. What the hell is wrong with this kid? He's not still thinking about yesterday, is he? Louis doesn't want anyone's pity or concern. He doesn't need it. Especially not Harry's. Louis has been fine on his own for a while now. Besides, this lame excuse of a pirate probably doesn't give a fuck about it anyway. He's probably thinking about something else and that's why he didn't say anything.

Louis just sighs in annoyance and makes a beeline towards the backroom to drop his backpack. Once he's done that he gets to work. Martin's not here today, so it's just him and Harry. Fan-fucking-tastic. He starts getting some books out of boxes and making room for them on the shelf, which is rather an impossible task since there's not a corner in this place that's not covered by books. He just ends up piling them up on top of a random chair.

"Thanks for your help" he sarcastically tells Harry as he opens a new box full of books. Harry barely lifts his eyes from the one he's reading. 

"You're welcome" Louis just rolls his eyes. What a little bitch.

"What a little bitch" he ends up mumbling.

"Hey, just being here giving you the opportunity to admire me should be enough," he says smugly. Ugh, he thinks he's so perfect, doesn't he? Louis hates that. Harry's so full of himself it almost hurts. Disgusting, honestly. Louis couldn't give less of a fuck about how people look. Sure, he's thought Harry's good looking. And he was mesmerized by Zayn's beauty the first time he met him. But it's different. It's not like that. The thing is, Louis is an artist, so he appreciates beauty in general, but he likes to look into things as well as people. Sometimes, there's much more than meets the eye. Because you can be the prettiest person in the world, but let me tell you something, were the world blind, how many people would you impress?

Especially Harry, who seems as if he would struggle to read the back of a fucking cereal box. Suddenly, a thought runs through Louis' brain. 

"Hold up a second" His head pokes from behind one of the shelves. "You passed the test?"

Harry looks bored. "What test?" he has this tone in his voice that Louis hates. It's the tone a mother uses with his six-year-old kid when he's talking about something and she's just pretending to pay attention while she does something else.

"The George Eliot test, you idiot"

"Of course I passed the George Eliot test. I'm surprised you did though" 

"Ah, yes, I forgot. In your eyes, I'm this kind of useless ficus"

Harry scoffs at that but tries to hide it with a cough. "No. I'm just surprised you had the guts to tell a stranger that he's wrong, is all"

Louis doesn't say anything for a few seconds. He wants to make a great comeback and leave Harry wishing he hadn't said anything, but he's right. Harry's fucking right. Louis is surprised himself by the fact that he was able to do that. That he could just correct a random guy who was also his potential boss. His one month ago self could never have done that. He would've been too worried about what Martin would think about him. Too scared. Of course, this doesn't apply to Harry here, because he hates Harry and doesn't care what he thinks. Because whatever he thinks, Louis' not interested.

"Yeah, well. Apparently, you don't know me as well as you thought, do you?" Louis finally answers, but it's weak, and his voice cracks at the end. Because he knows it's a lie. Because Harry can read him better than he dares to admit.