Never Be /l.s.

chapter 4: spring

The entire month of March whips by and it won't slow down.

Harry is caught up between so many projects - his internship, midterms, Louis - that he barely finds time to sleep. He feels like he's constantly running, constantly trying to keep up with his own life, unable to slow down and take a minute to breathe. And it must be fairly obvious to everyone around him because Fizzy approaches him one night after dinner while Harry is up to his elbows in suds from washing the dishes.

"You're alright, right?" she asks, drying off a pan.

He nods. "Yeah. Why?"

"You're stressed."

"No, I'm not." He starts scrubbing at a dish particularly hard, and a bunch of water sloshes out over the side of the sink, wetting his shirt.

She cocks her head to the side. "Harry."

He huffs out a laugh. "Okay, yeah, I'm a little stressed. Just underestimated how much work this internship would be."

Fizzy nods. "Sometimes avoiding responsibility can clear your head."

"That sounds like the least helpful advice I've ever received."

She laughs and starts drying off a bowl. "Even if you procrastinate a little bit, it's okay. Just take some time for yourself. Go out and do something."

"Like what?"

"Like, go into the city for a few hours," she says. "Lottie and I actually planned on going Saturday morning, if you wanted to come."

"Ah, Fiz, I seriously have so much work I need to do."

"I know . And you're beginning to turn into a grumpy old man." She fake gasps. "Oh my God, you're my brother."

Harry snorts and rinses off his hands under the hot water. "Gee, thanks."

"C'mon. Please? I want you to come. Let's have some Harry-sister bonding time."

He sighs, wiping his hands off on the dish towel. "Okay, fine, I'll go, as long as you promise we can be back by dinner. That should still give me enough time to submit stuff by Sunday night."

"That's my good boy," she replies and Harry groans.

"I'm not your brother, you are."

Later that night, Harry takes Fizzy's slightly terrible advice and ignores his studies for the time being. It's the first time in weeks that he hasn't fallen asleep with the light on or his laptop whirring on the bed beside him. Instead, he heads upstairs into the attic where Louis is slipping out of jeans and into sweatpants. He looks up when he hears Harry come in and makes a face.

"Does no one know how to knock?"

Harry walks over to Louis' desk and sits down on the swivel chair, grabbing a blue sticky note and writes down Only peasants knock on it, holding it in front of Louis' face. Louis snorts and grabs the piece of paper, crossing out Harry's handwriting and replacing it with his own.

Harry looks down and reads it, bursting out into laughter. "You're my peasant, I'm your king?!"

He shrugs. "You heard me."

Harry slumps down further in the chair and puts the sticky note on the desk. "Whatever. Anyway."

Louis looks into his mirror, taking out his contacts. "Anyway..."