"Oh for God’s sake Harry, why did you put those shoes on?! I told you to bin them!" Louis heard Anne exclaim as he entered the piano room after fetching a quick snack from the café in the middle of his and Harry’s piano time. Harry was sat on the edge of the stool, knees pulled up to his chest but his feet dangling off the side of the seat. Anne was stood to the side of him, glaring down at the wrecked trainers that were on Harry’s feet, a hand clutching the roots of her hair in somewhat slight anguish.
Harry’s hands instantly reached down to cover the broken shoes in defence, hiding the scuffed material. The sole that flopped down sorrowfully was held in place by Harry’s fingers - those long, thin fingers that would feel so-
Louis shook his head inwardly, pushing those thoughts out of his mind and focusing on the verbally one-sided but –evident to Louis– two-sided, argument between the two people in front of him. Harry’s glare spoke louder than Anne’s words, his green eyes flicking from his weathered shoes to Anne’s figure, as if translating the fact that he didn’t approve of her, well, disapproval.
"Louis! Louis, Louis, Louis," Anne muttered. "Will you please tell Harry that he needs some new shoes? They’re horrendous!”
Louis chuckled lightly, plonking himself down on the floor in front of the stool Harry was sat at and crossing his legs. “Well I mean…they aren’t in the best condition, I guess,” he said tactfully.
Harry’s eyes turned innocently wide, looking almost hurt. Louis couldn’t stand the expression; it was tugging on his heart too much that he instantly corrected himself. “But if he can still walk in them, then it’s alright.”
"He can barely walk in them! And- no Harry, don’t pretend you can, because you trip up all the time in them- what, no! I see you tripping up! I see you with my own eyes! And no, don’t say I need glasses because I really don’t," Anne ranted, interrupting the start of Harry’s protests. "We’re going shoe shopping after this, I’m not taking no for an answer Mister!"
Louis watched in amusement as Harry rolled his eyes dramatically at Anne, his hands scrambling to find a pen and paper before scribbling out a word in large capital letters:
GEMMA
It was as if a light bulb of remembrance when off in Anne’s brain and she suddenly remembered whatever it was that had to do with Gemma.
"Oh gosh, Gemma! I totally forgot! Our girly time for the month! Damn, going shopping will really mess things up…" She murmured thoughtfully. Harry’s expression wasn’t overly joyful, as per usual, but Louis could spot the hint of smugness over the decease of the argument. As much as Louis wanted to side with Harry, Anne’s troubled expression was more extreme. She looked as if she were having an internal battle with herself, trying to decide on how to resolve the situation.
"Well… maybe I could take Harry out shoe shopping?" Louis said, his tone questioning and unsure.
Anne’s head whipped around- more like down as he was sprawled on the floor- to Louis, her eyes lighting up. “You would do that?!” she exclaimed with hope.
"Yeh, I don’t mind," Louis shrugged nonchalantly.
"You really don’t have to, Louis; don’t feel obliged to if you don’t actually want to."
"No, seriously, I really don’t mind. It’ll be nice to spend some more time with Haz," Louis said sweetly, a blush lighting up his cheeks. He was unaware to the glow that flushed on Harry’s cheeks also, the discreet compliment and use of his new nickname attacking Harry’s calm exterior.
Anne looked as if she were about to burst with joy after Louis spoke, and Louis wasn’t sure why. Her perfect smile spread across her face; her eyes creased at the corners. Her hands lay fanning out under her jaw, a look of somewhat awe mixed in with the happiness. Her eyes flickered between Harry and Louis, searching out Harry’s lack of reaction and the ease in which Louis spoke his words with a relaxed manner.
