young & beautiful | harry's pov

xiii.

Surprise!!

I thought after waiting so long yall deserved an early first update :) hope yall like it!

**

For the rest of the week, Harry tutors Louis in helpful and beneficial ways.

Harry doesn't know what Louis was expecting from him. After they made (sort of) peace with each other, Harry started tutoring him for real, thinking that's all Louis wanted from him.

But apparently it wasn't, because Louis keeps glancing over at him with a certain look in his eyes during their sessions, thinking Harry didn't notice.

(Which he definitely did. Louis definitely needs a tutor for being ssubtle more than for the Victorian era.)

One day, as they were sitting in silence as Louis tried to answer the questions Harry had given him, a truly horrendous thought occurs to him.

What if...

What if Louis wanted to see him smiling?

Harry cringes mentally at the thought of showing emotions to Louis.

He shook off the memory and focused on the girl infront of him, smiling at her and tracing her cheekbone with his thumb and then cupping her chin between his thumb and index finger, leaning forward to press his mouth to her ear and whisper sweet nothing, making her giggle even more.

After a bit she got boring and with a fake, toothy smile, he sent her away by a gentle nudge and a slap against her ass.

(He's never doing that again. He's way too gay for that. Why does he keep doing things that he's too gay for?!)

He sighed quietly, turning away just in time to be met with two piercing blue eyes staring into his, their owner marching over to him.

He feels kinda nervous under Louis' intense gaze, but he doesn't let it show.

the remnants of his soulless, amused smile faded, his eyes connecting with Louis'. The false cordiality that had previously taken hostage of his face was swiftly replaced with something quieter, more observant. It wasn't smiley, no, but it wasn't fake either.

"Louis Tomlinson," Harry greeted, but his voice was lackluster, filled with disappointment as he wasn't ready to face Louis again, and definitely not because every single fucking time they meet he's questioning Harry and making him feel these, these things that just don't sit right with Harry.

"Hi Curly," Louis responded, making Harry roll his eyes in an irritated manner.

(And there definitely wasn't a fond feeling down there. It didn't exist. Poof. Gone)

Harry stared at Louis for a full minute, trying not to let the fuzzy feeling in his stomach get the upper hand when Louis bites his lip, slightly nervous.

"Right. Well. I'm going up the stairs now," he said, trying to mask his nervousness. He stared at Louis for a second before saying, "You are to remain five paces behind me," with a slight weight in his chest because honestly, he didn't want him and Louis to go back to hating each other.

But,

The fuzzy feeling had to go, like, right this second before he would throw up because of it.

Louis rolled his eyes. "I think we're past this by now, aren't we? Besides, I think you meant to say 'steps."

Harry blinked. "What?"

"You meant five steps behind you. Because I would say 'paces' is more of a walking term. 'Steps' ensures a distance of five actual steps. Since we're going up stairs and all. With steps." Louis smiled sunnily, tilting his head with exaggerated godamn cuteness. that Harry can't fucking get enough of, but really should get enough of because he hates Louis!