Led By Your Beating Heart [L.S AU]

1

"It's your turn now, Harry," Nick Grimshaw says on air, looking over at Harry from across the table. He waggles his eyebrows and smirks. "Whose number are we going to land on, hm? What juicy Harry Styles scandal will we discover today?"

"Heyyyy," Harry says, affronted, but he plugs his phone into the patch line dutifully. It was, after all, his idea to play Call or Delete on Grimmy'sshow, he might as well be a good sport about it.

Although it might have been not a very good idea. Everyone is expecting lothario womanizer Harry Styles to land on one of his rumoured flings' numbers, and Harry doesn't know to tell them that they're going to be severely disappointed. He's never, ever, ever going to call Taylor Swift . Or getting back together with her. They were never together in the first place. Weee.

He'd also never dated Kendall Jenner. Or Caroline Flack. Or Nadine Leopold. Or Cara Delevingne. Honestly, if the general public is expecting something scandalous, they're not going to find it here. He has more of a chance of landing on his mum's number than any of these girls'.

"Come on, Harry," Nick pleads, batting his eyelashes. Harry makes a face at him. "Whose numbers have you got, eh?"

"Not telling," Harry singsongs. He opens his address book and hovers his thumb over the screen. "Okay, I'm ready."

"Close your eyes," Nick says, and Harry covers his face with his hand. "No peeking. And, go."

Harry pushes his thumb to the screen and starts scrolling. He scrolls down really quickly for a few seconds, and then scrolls all the way up really quickly, before scrolling down really painfully slow.

"This just in," he hears Nick say into the microphone. "Harry Styles does not know how to scroll down his phone properly."

Harry sticks his tongue out at him. Or at least, tries to. It's kind of hard when one of his hands is on his face. "I'm making it more interesting for us, Grimmy."

"It's going to be interesting either way," Nick replies, and then, "stop."

Harry stops, then presses a random part of his screen.

"Who've we got?" Nick asks, and Harry pulls his hand from his face to blink down on his phone. It takes him a few seconds to register the words on his screen, but when he does, he freezes.

Nick leans over. "Oh," he says, his voice smug. "Who is that?"

Harry just blinks at his phone. "Um," he manages to stammer out.

"Who's that, Harry?" Nick asks again, but this time he raises his eyebrows and smirks. Harry knows Nick is just teasing, and that he's not really looking for new Harry Styles gossip, but, um. He might have found something. Accidentally.

Harry opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is another 'um'. He really needs to work on translating his thoughts into words. But then it probably wouldn't be any helpful right now, would it? His mind is as blank as a newly erased etch-a-sketch.

"Oh," Nick says again, this time gleefully, seemingly having picked up on Harry's distress. "Looks like we've got a story here! Are you going to call or delete her number?"

Her number. So Nick thinks it's a girl. Well, Harry can't blame him: 'Lou' is kind of an androgynous nickname. His stylist's name is Lou.

But this Lou, well, Louis, he's kind of, really, really not a girl. He's really pretty though, which, is something.

He looks helplessly over to his handler, who is on the other side of the glass window. His handler just gestures for him to continue.

"Harry?" Nick presses. "Call or delete?"