Life Changes

1. Don't Be So Cold, We Could Be Fire

Fingers flitted over every type of expensive material in order to find the perfect date ensemble. Harry had an extensive collection of Burberry, Yves Saint Laurent and Gucci outfits that he only pulled out on special occasions. Well, sort of special. Harry was having his first date in three years and he needed an outfit to stupor. Unfortunately, Zayn hardly informed him about his date, but Harry knew first impressions counted a lot. Harry didn't have a second chance to make a lasting first impression.

Harry's eyes scanned over the tiny hands of the clock, noting one hour had passed by of him lounging around and getting antsy. Hot air blew out of his puffed lips. Harry leaned back in the plush sofa and tried to think of happy, relaxing thoughts.

Harry picked up a Men's Health magazine and flipped the crisp pages, his eyes never leaving the time on the clock for too long. His dress shoe looked scuffed. He frowned and leaned down, the underside of his wrist wiping the smudge clean.

Harry's patience was wearing thin, the crease on his forehead becoming more prominent with every minute that ticked by. Clean fingernails tapped the open magazine with impatience, his forehead crinkling with more stress wrinkles.

Harry crossed his leg, bouncing it up and down in the air as time passed by. He was ready to call it a night when the sound of knocking interrupted his thoughts. He sighed deeply and stood up with a small grunt, his long legs extending across the polished wooden floor. He pulled open the door with a smile plastered to his face.

"Hey," both men said at the same time.

"Harry."

"Louis."

Louis was—Louis was...so—Louis was...Louis. He was beautiful in ways Harry couldn't have ever imagined; all tan skin and sharp blue eyes. He was skinny but had the perfect amount of curve to his small, lithe body. He was covered in tattoos and sparse chest hair and suddenly Harry couldn't look at him anymore. Harry blamed it on his dry spell of the century. He was attracted to him right off the bat because Louis was a hot human being. That was it. It was purely sexual and nothing more.

(Harry had to remind himself not to let his sexual primal feelings towards Louis distract him from how rudely late he was.)

"Tommo," Louis corrected.

"Tommo?" Harry arched an eyebrow.

"Tommo. Yeah, everybody, everybody calls me Tommo."

(Okay?)

"Okay. Well, it's finally nice to meet you, Tommo."

"Am I late?"

Louis' blue eyes scanned around the vast, dimly lit living room.

"Um, just an hour, but you know..." Harry looked behind himself, cringing at the half-empty wine bottle that was wedged between the sofa cushions. He turned back to look at Louis' blank face with his eyebrows arched. "I just finished getting ready and Zayn said it was your MO so."

Louis rolled his eyes, fixing the Vans cap on top of his messy fringe.

"Liam said you would probably say something."

"Oh, did he? Oh, okay." Harry's voice lifted higher on an octave, his smile fake and poised on his smiling cheeks. "Cool."

Awkward silence filled the air, Louis shifting his weight on one foot and the other while Harry stared dumbly at his narrow chest.

"Should we go?"

Harry hoped it was enough to lift the stiff tension enveloping them.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go."