i like your face (larry stylinson)

chapter one

"i, uhm, i like your face."

~~~

harry was a nervous wreck. he bit at his cuticles, nails already down to nearly nothing as he listened to gemma's wrath.

"what do you mean you don't know?" gasped his sister on the other line. "you must be crazy to even consider turning this down!"

harry had expected this type of reaction, however, it didn't help hearing it. he needed some sort of agreement. he needed someone to understand, someone who wouldn't find him crazy for not taking the job right away.

"gemma," he pleaded whiningly. "this isn't a normal photography job. it's for the louis tomlimson."

"exactly. the louis tomlinson. who you've probably had a crush on, i don't know, half your life?"

"gemma," he groaned again, dragging out her name childishly and flushing red although she couldn't see his face. "it's not just that! he's... he's everything! imagine what it would be like to be in the spotlight like him all the time."

"still not seeing your point, haz," she chuckled in response, causing harry to huff. "getting to spend all of your time with louis tomlinson, doing what you love, and being in the spotlight as a photographer. please, please tell me you're not going to turn his manager down. what was his name again?"

"jeffery. and... i don't know if i'm ready," he whispered with a sigh, more to himself than his sister. he could practically hear gemma's frustration with his stubbornness as she paused to respond to him.

"of course you are. you think louis tomlinson's manager would even know your name in the first place if you weren't ready?" she finally scolded. however, her hesitance in replying to him was enough to add to his doubts.

"y'know how i am with people," he replied sourly. "i don't handle the attention well. i'm not good at business. i almost passed out at the photography banquet, and that was before i found out louis' manager was there."

"harry." gemma was the one whining now. "i don't know how else to convince you. please think about it before you call jeffery back."

"i will," harry said with a sigh.

"promise?"

"...promise."

harry fell back onto his apartment mattress after hanging up with gemma, somehow drained of energy although the only thing he'd done that afternoon is talk on the phone. he thought for a moment to call his best friend niall, however, he assumed the irish boy was busy on the field.

after a brief nap, though, harry eventually did decide to call niall. except when he went to reach for his phone, he realized how dehydrated he felt and left to go get himself a glass of iced water from his small kitchen.

louis tomlinson, he thought to himself. harry had known louis' name practically his whole life. of course, having a famous football player as a father and a moviestar as a mother had put the british boy's name out there since he was in the womb.

whether you liked louis or not, you knew him, oh yes. harry had watched him grow up, plastered on TVs left and right, giving speeches about equality, modelling for photo shoots in clothing, shoes, underwear, and even being painted on the walls of some of london's most popular stores. all harry had to do was glance across his kitchen at his stack of mail and magazines and he'd probably find at least 3 photos of the male model.

harry knew louis tomlinson--more than knew him, he liked him. but how in the world, harry thought, could louis tomlinson possibly know him? he blushed right then and there at the thought of being special enough to work with such a person.