Just a taste of your lips

💜

♡ Harry ♡

The first time Harry sees him, he’s on his way to the food stalls. He’s the absolute loudest person between his group of rambunctious friends, and Harry’s absolute first impression of this man is that he’s a child trapped in a grown man’s body. He’s screaming, cheering, laughing at two of what seems to be his friends, while they’re busy wrestling in the slippery mud- the result of the thunderstorm that came from absolutely nowhere last night.

Harry teaches to year ones, which ultimately means he knows a child when he sees one, and there is absolutely no doubt in his mind that “man-child” over there with his sky blue Givenchy shorts and white t-shirt, is just that.

It’s a shame though, because under normal circumstances man-child would be exactly his type. Yes, with his neatly trimmed hair that boasts a few silver strands at the sides, along with the salt and pepper scruff covering his chiseled jawline, and the vast array of tattoos on his arms, man-child is the exact kind of person Harry would want as his soul mate. Too bad immaturity is such a turn-off.

Man-child calms down, though, the moment he sees Harry, and Harry has to stop himself from rolling his eyes so far back he’d be able to see the back of his head, when man-child gives him the nod, followed by a blinding smile.

The confidence radiating from him is out of this world and would no doubt have a different effect on Harry if his mind’s not been made up already.

The two hooligans that were rolling around in the mud, have now made it back to standing firmly on their feet- their eyes following man-child’s line of sight. One of them says something to which man-child harshly pushes him into his mud-covered friend before looking back to Harry, effectively prompting everyone else to do the same.

Shaking his head, Harry purses his lips while giving man-child the most unimpressed look he is able to manage- satisfied when the smile man-child has been sporting disappears and his features contort into a look of pure confusion. Well, that’s if the frown etched onto his forehead is anything to go by.

With pure annoyance still bubbling within him, Harry finally gives in and rolls his eyes, ignoring the choir of “Oooooooh’s” sounding from the rowdy group of friends, and training his eyes on the muddy path instead.

Harry breathes a sigh of relief when reaching the food stalls, and gives them a quick scan before making his way over to the one with the shortest line.

♡ Louis ♡

The first time Louis sees him, he’s completely caught off guard. Well, to be fair, he sees his legs before he sees him, and god knows it’s the kind of legs Louis wouldn’t mind wrapped around him. They’re long and tanned, slender yet muscular while his left thigh sports a tattoo of the head of what Louis thinks is a tiger. He could be wrong, but from where he’s standing, Louis definitely thinks it’s a tiger.

A little further up, Louis notices he’s wearing a pair of bright pink running shorts, they’re extremely short- barely covering what needs to be covered, and Louis has the strongest urge to give him a jacket or something to wrap around himself. He doesn’t. Louis knows it’s not his place, but he also knows that if lanky legs over there were to be his soulmate, he’d want to be the only one gets to see his legs like that.

Louis doesn’t get to see much of lanky legs' upper body, because strangely enough, and to Louis’ great disappointment, that part is completely covered by an oversized hoodie.

Louis does finally reach his face though, and when he does his stomach swoops and his lungs feel like they’re fighting for air. Lanky legs is a pure fucking vision- one that completely made him forget about the fun he was busy having watching Tommy and Ray wrestle in the mud, trying to get up after one of them had slipped, pulling the other one with him as he went down.