‘God, I loathe rain,’ Louis muttered, scrambling into the tiny bookshop on the corner of Shaftsbury Road that he passed every day in order to escape the nearly torrential gale outside.
A chime echoed through the empty store as he wiped his feet on the small ‘welcome J!’ rug, gripping his coat tighter around his soaked self, shivering as he did so.
When he finally looked up, Louis realised that the shop was desolate, not a soul in sight.
‘Hello?!’
His quivering voice bounced back from the corners at him and he hesitantly made his way to the counter filled with books.
‘Sorry! I was just—’
Louis looked up from the novel he picked up and almost dropped it. Shit Jesus.
Wide green eyes blinked at him from a door to the back, curly hair misplaced and pink lips shaped in a ‘o’. This boy had to be the most gorgeous person he had ever been blessed to set eyes on.
‘You look like you’ve been drowned, mate,’ the lad mused, making his way behind the counter.
Louis let out a surprised laugh, because of course his voice had to be of the deep and slow variety, dripping like velvet honey.
‘In case it escaped your notice, Curly, it’s pouring out there.’
‘It’s just Harry,’ Curly offered, and grinned.
And really, why was fate so cruel? Did Harry have to have the most goddamned adorable dimples too?
‘Well in that case, Just Harry, I’m Just Louis, the sass masta from Doncasta,’ He bit back, smiling and trying not to shiver.
‘Don’t suppose you’d like a towel or something?’ Harry raised an eyebrow questioningly, ‘Wouldn’t want The Sass Masta dying from pneumonia, now would we?’
‘Oh no, I think the world would sorely miss my fantabulous presence.’ Louis stuck out a hip, gazing unashamedly at him.
‘Well,’ the curly haired lad smirked, ‘If you prefer to—’
‘I’d love a towel!’ Louis exclaimed, dropping the book, which now had wet fingerprints pressed into the pages, onto the counter, ‘Thanks.’
‘No problem, mate, because honestly, you’re ruining my floors,’ Harry chuckled, going out back.
Oh. Louis flushed as he glanced at the miniature lake by his feet. Oops.
‘Sorry…’ He mumbled, as Harry reappeared with a monstrosity of a pink towel with a rainbow My Little Pony plastered across it, ‘Why the hell do have that atrocity?’
Dimples deepened and the bright green eyes grew fond, ‘Zayn got it as a joke.’
Louis’ heart sank. He was taken. Great.
‘You together?’ He asked for good measure, fixing a smirk on his face.
Harry choked, eye widening, ‘Oh god—’
The sound of footsteps on stairs interrupted him and a tanned guy strolled into the room, eyes fixed on his phone.
But that wasn’t what made Louis gape, jaw literally hanging open in disbelief. Oh no, it was the diminutive fact that he was dressed in nothing but a bloody towel!
Louis took his chance to scope out this apparent perfection. Flawless skin was littered with dozens of tattoos, black hair wet and falling over his forehead, damn this boy could stop traffic with those cheekbones and thick, long, feminine eyelashes.
