Just One Little Favour

Twenty Four

Louis scrolls mindlessly through Instagram. He's sitting on the sofa, legs propped up against the head rest, elbows keeping him from headbutting the floor. His face is relaxed, which kind of means he's got one of those resting bitch faces happening right now.

His mum used to make fun of him for it, telling him he looked like Lottie when she's got the ick from one of her boyfriends back in secondary school.

Please, he's far from that.

He feels a little self-conscious about it, but right now, it's not bothering him as much as one would think. He flips through his following's stories, landing on Lottie's where she's outside the Eifel Tower. Her leg is propped in the air behind her, a shampoo bottle in her hand, and labels the whole focus. There's a lightbox behind her shaped into the letters of L'Oréal. The next story is of a boomerang, her hair blowing prettily in the breeze, face stretching into a smile.

Something catches Louis's eye, and he quickly screenshots the boomerang and goes into his gallery, zooming in on the photo. His brows furrow.

He messages Lottie, asking her why she's got a big red, speckled purple mark on her arm. Within seconds, she's replied and he can't help but bite his lip to contain a giggle.

Lotts: if you have to know, I got drunk the other night and... I fell right into a bush 😬. Bloody curb tripped me up. Saffie was pissing herself laughing! And I can feel you laughing through the screen so SHUT UP!!!!!

Louis replies with laughing faces and a only you would bloody fall into a bush. As long as you're alright. Joey is fine, by the way, rinsing my money dry with his puppy eyes over toys.

He goes back to scrolling through Instagram, feeling as though it's more of a habit for his fingers than it is entertainment.

He can see in his peripheral vision, smooth legs going either side of his head, shadow looming across his face from where they're blocking the sun beating through the window.

"You okay?" Harry asks.

Louis slowly gazes up, seeing an upside down Harry staring down at him, back of hands folded along his hips, curls falling from the bun he's got in.

"Mhm," Louis replies.

He's about to go on his phone when Harry slaps it away and the device goes bloody scattering across the floor and under the chair.

"Hey," Louis drones, pouting up at Harry. "That wasn't very nice."

Harry rolls his eyes. "You need to get off that phone."

"I was working!" Louis lies in protest.

Harry scoffs. "That wasn't work, that was Instagram. Come on, Joseph wants us to help him paint the secret garden house."

Louis quirks a brow. "I didn't agree for it to get painted."

Harry reaches down and grabs Louis' arms, beginning to tug him off the sofa. "Well, it's an eye sore without a new nick of paint to keep it fresh. He wants to paint the base pink and the roof yellow."

"Arghh, I don't wanna! That involves shopping and I've had enough shopping this week to last a lifetime!"

"You're not getting out of this. I'll drive us if that's what you want. I can pay for the paints, too. They can't be that expensive." Harry gives one last tug and Louis' bum shifts off the sofa and onto the floor with a light thud.