blue surrender [l.s.]

5. forrest green, forrest blue

forrest gump - frank ocean

***

The first "outing" Louis has planned for Harry and himself is in fifteen minutes, and Harry is only half dressed. It's not even funny, really, because, it's only Louis and Wendy's. And dressing up for Louis to go to Wendy's is fucking hard.

He's already got on his infamous black skinny jeans, and a black fedora with a brown feather sticking up from it sits atop his messy hair (picture in media) as he decides between a lovely, silk, floral print button-down or a plain black t-shirt when he gets Louis' call.

"Hello?" asks Harry, deciding on the t-shirt. The floral print might've been a bit much.

"Harry Styles. There's ten minutes left before you're supposed to meet me here," Louis says, as if it's not obvious that's Harry's been freaking out over it since the night before. Really.

Harry taps the speaker button and sets his phone on the bed as he slips the t-shirt over his head. "I know, I know. I'm about to leave my dorm, calm down," Harry sighs, tripping over his own two feet to get to his tan boots in his closet.

Louis laughs. "You sound like you're falling over things. Nervous?" and, ooh, he sounds so cocky, Harry wants to faint.

"No, not at all, Lewis," Harry hisses to cover his lie. He contradicts himself by falling flat on his face as he tries putting on his boots. He lands with a graceful oof.

It's not fair that Louis is still laughing over the phone, and Harry really just wants to hang up on him. But, he kind of can't, since he's still on the floor trying to get up.

"Fuck you," Harry groans, rolling over and sitting up. He rubs his forehead. Seriously, why is he so nervous?

He just. Needs to process.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Look, Harry," says Louis, "you're running late as it is. Make it snappy."

"Yeah, yeah," Harry rolls his eyes, finally standing and walking over to the bed where his phone lies. He's about to end the call when Louis speaks again.

"By the way, you don't have to dress up. Stop worrying so much, really, it's just me." Louis says and hangs up.

Okay, Harry's finished with the process bullshit. He's processed now, and he's ready to meet Louis at Wendy's.

If the ice cream machine is out, he might just throw a bitch fit. That's how fed up he is right now.

It wouldn't be so hard meeting up with Louis if he wasn't so damn attractive, Harry thinks as he locks his dorm door and starts walking to his car. Really, he shouldn't even be this fidgety. It better not affect his driving, or else he'll crash, and, well. That won't be good.

Wait... where is he going again?

Wendy's. That's where he's going. Right. Get a grip, Harold, his subconscious tells him.

The music for today should be happy, he decides. So, he looks in his glove compartment quickly for the tape labeled, Beethoven - Happy. He pops it into the tape slot on his dashboard, and he settles into his seat as the piano seeps into his brain and drives him to Wendy's.

***

Being ten minutes late is worth it when Harry sees the smirk on Louis' lips.

"You're a tardy, nervous wreck, aren't you?" Louis asks as Harry reaches the table Louis is sitting at and sits across from him.

Harry rolls his eyes. "Oh, please. You wish I'd get all googly-eyed over you, you cocky son of a bitch," Harry smirks right back at the man.

"Your mouth is filthy," Louis says lowly, and, okay. Harry bites down onto his lower lip and looks at the table in an attempt to change the subject.