The Devil Wears GUCCI || Larry Stylinson

Chapter 9. Part I

Harry lets out a breath the moment he hears it open.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, sounding more tired than angry.

Louis, who had opened the door just enough to take a look, was speechless.

Margot ends up pushing the door, making it smash against the wall loudly. He pushes Louis and then runs straight towards Harry.

"Hello," she smiles in front of him, showing the lack of one of her top teeth, "We were bored and wanted to see you."

"I think I was very clear when I said I'd be busy," Harry replies, talking to Louis more than anyone, "Or wasn't I?"

Louis bites his lower lip and walks towards them, Belmont staying by his side. He hasn't let go of his hand since they left Niall's office, it probably was his childish mind sticking to the closest adult figure. Louis likes to think the boy has started to feel comfortable in his presence and that, maybe, he gives him some sense of security. He can't help but feel embarrassed about himself for gaining that same security from grabbing a four year old boy's hand under Harry's tortuous gaze, almost using him as a safety barrier for his person.

He also can't keep himself from noticing the plate with oat cookies crumbs and the empty coffee mug on top of the surface of his desk.

"I'm sorry, they were very persistent," Louis places his hands on Belmont's shoulders and keeps him in front of him. He's not proud.

Harry shakes his head with closed eyes, "They weren't insistent, Tomlinson. You are very easy to persuade."

"That isn't true!" Margot exclaims, surprising Louis, "It took me more time than I imagined." She says and Louis huffs, because of course he was stupid to have thought about anything else.

"Like I said, Margot, I'm busy." Harry turns slightly to the adjacent table, his fingers moving nimbly over the keyboard.

"We can help you!" She suggests, "That way you'll finish more quickly and you'll have time to play with us."

"It isn't something a kid can do." The editor ignores the brunette's disappointed face.

"Why not?"

"Because..." he stops for a moment, "Because I say so."

"That's not a reason!"

"It's a reason and you'll accept it."

"Please, uncle Harry."

"Believe me, you'll have a better time with Luigi," Harry looks at him with a raised eyebrow, "He's the king of entertainment, isn't he?"

For the tone in which he says so, Louis knows it isn't a compliment, he's mocking him. It makes him feel like an idiot and somehow makes him regret having told him some of his story in middle-school.

"No!" Margot cries out, "We don't want to go with him. We want to be with you!"

"That's a pity," Harry shrugs, "Get them out of here, Tomlinson, and distract them with something else."

Louis knows he has to do what he's being asked. He has to take both kids, avoid being hit by Margot and get out of the room. In a perfect world, he'd do exactly that.

"They could do it." He says instead, because honestly, fuck it. In a perfect world, Belmont and Margot shouldn't have to beg for a little bit of attention.

Harry's fingers stop, "What?" He asks, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

Louis breathes heavily through his nose, "They could help you," he repeats, making an effort to keep his stance, "Abraham said you helped your grandfather when you were a kid. Why wouldn't they be able to do the same?"