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"Sorry, you were saying?" Harry chuckles, his wine stained cheeks glowing under the florescent light. A few bubbles carry through the warm air.
The sweet vanilla smell mixed with cranberry crawls up Louis' nose. He stretches his left leg. His sprawled out form and the fuzzy carpet should look comical, but he's eventually the happiest he's been in a while. "I was saying," Louis giggles, crossing his arms over his chest, "I might drop out." Above him splashes water loudly. He almost gets hit the face by rose-pedal equivalent bathwater. He squints his eyes, opening only one to spare a glance at Harry. He is suddenly very upright looking over the rim with his hair wet and dripping. "What?"
Louis closes his eyes again. "Well, I'm not doing great, as evident, so why not just quit." He reasons.
"I'll tell you why," Louis feels two mocking waterdrops hit his face. "You're in need of a proper education. University is fun. You're going to spend years and years working the same boring job with the same boring people. What I am saying is, you've got the chance to learn what you really enjoy now." Harry ends his tentative but almost overconfident speech with slouching back into the bathtub.
Louis groans, "But I'm stupid!'i can't comprehend or concentrate or do anything other than taking notes."
"That's not too bad. You can learn - I could help you."
"Yeah." Louis hums. "But I'm not an easy learner. I'll warn you, as soon as I'm bored, it's over."
Harry slight finger tapping creates a mystical atmosphere, not ominous but not as comfortable either. He doesn't seem to ever fully realx. "We can at least try, right?"
Louis nods with his eyes still closed shut. "Yeah, perhaps." He moves his fingers up and down the carpet. It's soft beneath his palm.
"I think I'm turning into a mermaid." Harry giggles. The water swooshes again, and a few droplets cascade down. "Here look."
Louis opens his eyes, and he finds Harry leaning over the brim of the bathtub. His hands are stretched out for Louis to look at. His long fingers are not adorned with rings. They're bare and long. His nails are trimmed neatly and painted in a matt black.
"Shit mate, how long have we been in here?" He laughs, holding a hand to his stomach.
Harry sits back. His wet chest moves up and down rhythmically. "A few hours, probably." He scratches over his wet skin, "will you hand me a towel?"
Louis nods. He takes a while to stand up, his visions blur at the edges, and his head hurts terribly too. He might need to drink a few liters of Harry's green juice to stay remotely alive throughout the rest of the day. He snatches a pink towel and throws it at Harry, who catches it perfectly. Impressive.
"Lou." Harry shakes his head, surpressing a chuckle as he looks at the towel. (It's pink because Louis put it in the washing machine alongside Niall's pink hoodie.)(It wasn't his fault, clearly.)
"How could I've known?!" He takes his toothbrush from Harry's cup and starts brushing his teeth. Midway, he stops and looks over his shoulder. His eyes land on Harry, naked. Well no but, his towel is hanging low around his lithe waist. His muscles twitch as he leans over to pick Louis' socks from the floor.
Harry bops his nose, "is that mine?" He points an accusing finger at Louis' toothbrush.
The accused shakes his head, "No. I actually adopted it." He spits the toothpaste out (mint, disgusting) and wipes his mouth.
"You mean you stole it?" Harry crowds him against the sink.
"No -" His voice breaks. Harry's front is aligned with Louis's backside, and it's making his lower region cripple. He's warm but his stomach is hard, and when he gets on his toes a little to reach higher into the small glass cabinet, he presses Louis even more against the cool edge of the sink and it's almost like, he's going to bend him over the thing next.
Just when Louis' breath is completely knocked out of his lungs, Harry stops. He puts a few cebtimenters between them and eyes Louis' flushed cheeks smugly. Then he holds up a new toothbrush, "found it!" He exclaims like nothing happened.
-
Louis sits at his desk. A pile of papers is loaded in front of him. He even put his glasses on to appear smarter. Unfortunately, appearing smart is not equivalent to being smart. Currently, he is staring at an empty page, which is titled 'Essay on'. Nothing more. He spent an hour writing only the headline of his first essay. He's writing on paper with a pencil because he can't afford to buy a new laptop or a new Ipad. It's far too expensive. There are people in his head talking over each other constantly. One of them is a construction worker who can't stop hammering against Louis' skull to break out. His leg is restless, but his mind is so tired. He put his essay off because he wanted it to be exceptional. He'd love to hand a paper in and have the teacher be impressed and in awe over the quiet student who is secretly extremely well educated. The issue seems to be that Louis isn't well educated or smart.
The door creaks open, "Oh look at you!" Harry steps inside. Louis recognizes him by his voice, raspy and deep but with a light edge.
Louis hides his grin. A silly, very little firework erupts in his stomach. He feels a bit giddy. "It's a facade." He mumbles dryly.
"Doesn't matter. You sat down and tried. That's a step!" Harry cheers. He places a cup of cocao down on Louis' table. "Coffee only makes you more anxious. This is caffeine free coffee with cinnamon and self-made almond milk." Bless him, Louis thinks. He's so soft. How could he ever think Harry could harm a fly. He makes almond milk himself. His body is covered in a wool sweater in a cream color, which suits his mocha green eyes. Well, not mocha, more plant. There's a plant Harry brought home, which resembles his eye color.
"You're an angel. Thank you." Louis fawns. The smell of warm chocolate travels up to his nose. He looks at Harry, who's now totally indulged in Louis' paper.
"What's the topic?" Harry puts a protective hand to Louis' chair.
"I don't know yet." Louis whines. He leans his head back against Harry's strong arm. He blinks up.
-
After a few hours, Louis finished his paper with Harry's help. He feels quite proud, even though it still needs editing. He probably mispelled 'Throughout' five times. However, now that he is finished, Harry had offered to take him out for a walk and cinnamon buns. Who's he to say no to that?
It's a glorious evening. The snow rains on them in flakes and crunches under their feet. Harry is embraced by a dark green wool coat and Louis by a grey one. The streetlights lead the way, snowflakes dancing in their florescent light. Tge air has cooled down as it seem, a fresh, cold breeze lulls them in a comfortable silence. Louis looks down at their hands. So close. He feels lonely quite often, and being with Harry has made him crave affection a little more. He's so different from Niall. Louis shakes the thought out of his head bedore it even gets the chance to grow roots.
"Lou," a twirl goes through his stomach. He looks at Harry's flushed cheeks and nose, "Look." His voice softens, and he gets down.
Louis looks around bewildered, then his eyes catch on the two golden puppies on a leash, bound to one of the streetlights.
