Parfait || l.s

03

Harry had just gotten home from his first day of school, gently placing his now filled backpack on the brown, worn out couch and walking over to his mother who was in the kitchen cooking a nice homemade meal. "Salut maman! Comment était le travail (Hi mom! how was work)?" Harry exclaims, wrapping his arms around the woman who jumped in surprise once they made contact.

"Ne me faire pas peur comme ça (Don't scare me like that)!" Anne, his mother, slightly yelps out, placing the wooden spoon in the pot that was filled with delicious tomato sauce that was for their pasta. "Le travail était bien , ils ne m'en ont pas fait faire trop. Comment était l'école , ma cher (Work was good, they didn't make me do much. How was school, dear)?" She adds after a while.

The green eyed boy instantly blushes, cheeks becoming a rosy red. He bites his lower lip and his attention turns to the floor, moving his feet back and fourth slightly. "Hé bien . . . il y avait ce garçon là qui était si beau (Well . . . there was this guy there who was beautiful)." Harry breathes out, mind trailing back to oh-so-perfect Louis.

Harrys mum was unfazed. Of course she would be. She had always known that Harry was slightly different from his friends when he was younger. He would always longingly stare at boys while they were out shopping, licking and biting at his lower lip—which is what he usually does when he takes interest into someone. She had no problem with it when she found out because she believed that everyone should love anyone they wanted without getting criticized.

Anne smiles down at her son, reaching one of her limp hands out to gently brush down Harrys' hair which was sticking out in some places. "Oui? quel est son nom, mon chéri (Yeah? What's his name, love)?" She lightly asks, smile growing even wider when she sees a spark go through Harrys' eyes.

"Louis." Harry breathes out, voice filled with so much love that his heart starts to ache at the sound of himself.

-

Louis was walking down the halls, smiling at everyone kindly. He was attached to Liam, laughing lightly to himself when people coo at the couple. Louis slightly raises his head to look up at Liam who had a straight face etched across his face, making the blue eyed boy frown slightly.

They stop by Louis' locker first, Liam standing protectively by his side with a hand on the small boys hip. "How many classes do we have with each other?" Louis questions, gathering his books in his arms and hugging them to himself. He closes his locker rather loudly—but not on purpose.

Liam stops to think, clenching his jaw and looking up. Louis takes his time to admire him at that time, seeing the way Liams' muscles would bulge out every time he would move his arms. Louis gets knocked out of his daze when he hears Liam clear his throat, oblivious to the fact that Louis was clearly just checking him out. "About three, I think."

Louis is about to respond, but gets cut off when he hears boots stomp on the ground and stop beside him, turning his head slightly in confusion to see Harry standing there with a cute pout formed on his pink lips. There was so many emotions flying around in his eyes. From hurt, to sadness, to disbelief and so many more. Harrys' heart hurt from just looking at the couple.

"Oh, hi Harry?" Louis asks in a questioning voice, wondering why the boy looked sad. He wasn't mad that Harry was here, because he actually kind of missed the flirty French boy—but he wouldn't tell Liam that. Louis watches as Liam slightly scoffs at Harrys' choice of clothing and he rolls his eyes.

There wasn't anything wrong with Harrys' clothing, to be honest. Louis liked the way the plain white t-shirt clung to his body in the most innocent but obscene way. And don't even get Louis started on his black skinny jeans and how they made Harrys' thighs look even thicker and edible. And woah, Louis did not just think that.

"H-hi, Louis." Harry surprisingly says in English, already catching up on the language quite quickly—but only on the small words. He blushes slightly when Louis' eyes roam over his large, lanky body, licking his lips unconsciously. Harry rips his gaze off of Louis and looks at Liam who had no emotion on his face.

"What are you doing here, so you need help finding your classes again?" Louis asks quietly, smiling slightly when he sees Harrys' signature fedora in his right hand. When Harry doesn't say a word, Louis sighs and turns to Liam. "Can you please translate or something? Anything to make him understand me."

And of course, Liam being the good boyfriend he is, decides to do just what Louis asked him to do. Well, not exactly. He does say something in French but not what Louis wants him to say.

"Je vois ce que tu essaies de faire , Harry . Je sais que tu aimes bien mon copain, mais pas la piene d'essayer, parce que Louis m'aime moy et pas toi (I see what you're trying to do, Harry. I know you like my boyfriend but back up, because Louis loves me and not you)." Liam spits out low-key, smiling at Louis innocently after he's done threatening Harry.

But Harry just can't have Liam call him out without saying something back. So, he steps a little bit closer, face so close to Liams' with a hard glare, not noticing that Louis has his mouth agape in the background. "Je suis Harry putain Styles, pétase. Louis sera à moi bientôt, et ne dis pas que je ne t'ai pas prévenu (I am Harry fucking Styles, bitch. Louis will be mine soon, and don't say I didn't warn you)."

Cheekily, Harry kisses Louis' cheek after he's done talking to Liam, walking away with a knowing smirk on his lips because he knows he's won this round.

NOTE: dark but submissive harry, i love it.