lust for life {l.s.}

part 3

They're at probably the millionth pool party that summer, when Harry's life gets shaken up forever. He's currently chatting with Niall and his friend Liam about the New York blackout a few days ago that has made headlines all across the country.

"I can't even imagine," Niall is saying. "I wonder what those lightning strikes looked like. To have caused that much damage has me buggin' out. And don't even get me started on how the Mets must feel. I hope they reschedule the game."

"Do you think the government will do anything to help them?" Liam asks. "I heard that the filming of Superman will probably be postponed. Makes me feel better about not getting that role."

It's not really talk for a gaudy pool party, but Harry finds that when you've sought out the only other two people with a functioning brain, the conversation topics tend to delve into something heavier.

Harry manages to convince the two of them to go for a swim and they find inflatable rafts to lie on as they sip Pina Coladas and drift idly in the large swimming pool. At least the DJ is spinning classic hits and he closes his eyes, trying to ignore the effervescent beam of the sun as I Will Survive plays on the speakers.

All three of them are deep into a heated discussion about the brutality of the Sons of Sam murders when Liam's attention suddenly gets usurped.

"Oh, guys, Louis is here," he exclaims, waving someone over. "You'll love him, he has the most slammin' sense of humor."

When Harry brushes the damp curls out of his eyes, he finally lands upon a figure meandering towards them, and promptly almost drops his champagne glass, fingers coming to curl tightly around the stem of the gold-tinged glass. The most stunning boy, clad in bright-blue swim shorts that cling deliciously to his legs is now standing before him, mouth occupied as it sucks animatedly on a ruby-red lollipop.

Struggling to find his breath, Harry quickly snaps his jaw shut as the man's sculpted cheekbones hollow in and out, making quick work of the candy. He's overcome with the sudden urge to ask if the boy's tongue is bright red as well, and then that urge is overswept by an even bigger need to kiss him until they both can't breathe.

"Harry, are you okay?"

He clears his throat as he focuses his attention back to the social situation at hand, Liam gazing at him genuine concern.

"Yeah, sorry man," he apologizes quickly, shaking off the thick layer of stupor as best he can, even though the catalyst is still very much in his proximity. "I think I just got something stuck in my throat, but I'm all good now."

Liam looks at him dubiously but drops it, instead gesturing to the boy that's captivated Harry's entire being. "I was just saying I wasn't sure if you'd met Louis."

Harry shakes his head as he finally allows himself to rest his eyes on the glowing beauty again. "I'm Harry Styles, it's a pleasure to meet you," he says quieter this time, standing up to extend a hand towards the other boy who raises his eyebrow at the formal gesture.

"A boy who shakes hands? I suppose chivalry isn't dead after all," the heavenly creature speaks, grasping Harry's hand in his smaller one. "I'm Louis Tomlinson. I'm surprised we haven't crossed paths sooner. A bit embarrassing, but I'm quite a fan of your work."

And wait, this enchanting elfin-looking boy knows who Harry is? He watches Harry's films?

Harry can barely focus with all the thoughts flooding his brain, like a flurried eclipse of moths to their light source. The dots slowly connect as he recalls mentions of a Louis Tomlinson. A memory of Jeff praising the male model that managed to break into the music industry slowly emerges to the front of his brain.