The Painter |l.s|

-11-

^The Dancer - Christopher Ferreira^

"Shit," Louis whispered, running down the hall of his flat. He was late for work, and he didn't have a ride. This day is already going down hill. His phone had somehow came unplugged last night, and his phone died. Meaning that his alarm didn't go off and he was thirty minutes late for work already. His boss is going to kill him. Louis had already used his 'free late day' pass last week. Not to mention he's super tired because his neighbors were in a fight yesterday yelling back and forth until three a.m. Why are Saturdays so complicated?

Louis ran out of his apartment face planting right into someone's back. "Oh my god I'm so sorry, I wasn't -"

"Hi Louis!" Harry exclaimed smiling wide.

"H-harry, hi. What are you doing here?" Louis flicked his fringe out of his eyes.

"I was giving Zayn the painting back, it's finally finished!" Harry held the canvas up. Louis studied it for a moment before looking back up at Harry's happy face.

"It's really pretty." Louis said nodding.

"Thank you, we worked really hard on it." Harry bounced up onto his toes. Harry took in Louis' appearance. "Oh I'm sorry were you going to work?"

"I might as well call in sick now. I over slept way to much," Louis said sighing.

"Aw," Harry frowned. "You could hang out with me." Harry suggested, smiling brightly looking at the smaller.

"Uh, I don't know I kind of have to clean up my flat and I'm sure you have class today I don't want to bother you." Louis rambled looking anywhere but at Harry.

"No I don't, it's Saturday." Harry knocked on Zayn's door, then opening it just to place the painting inside. "Besides I would skip class to hang out with you anyway." Harry blushed a pretty pink trying to cover it up with his hands. Louis didn't miss it though giving a hidden smirk. "And I could help you clean up." Harry said trying to calm his burning cheeks.

Louis thought for a moment. There were pros and cons of letting Harry into his home. Pros being this is Harry and he makes everything a hundred times better. Cons it's Harry he makes Louis a hundred times more nervous, more flustered, more warm, more giggly, more happy. Okay maybe there is no cons to having Harry around but Louis still wants to think about it first.

In the end Louis ends up sitting on his stained shitty couch with a curly haired boy on the other end. "I don't even know where to start." Louis sighed.

"Maybe start with calling in sick," Harry said softly. Right, Louis thought to himself. He nodded reaching into his pocket to call his boss.

"Louis Tomlinson, you are more than an hour late where are you!" An angered voice rumbled on the other end.

Louis faked a cough and sniffled. "Sorry, I think I've caught the flu." Louis tried to sound stuffed up.

There was silence then a clearing of the throat, "Whatever Tomlinson, you have to work late Monday."

"Sounds good to me." Louis put in an extra sniffle just to make sure his boss thought he was extra sick. Then the line went dead.

"Okay now where should start with the cleaning." Louis said looking at the giant pile of laundry in the corner of his living room.

"I'll do your laundry," Harry said jumping up from his spot on the couch. Louis nodded grabbing a basket and tossing it to Harry. They started picking up, but that didn't last long. With Harry pinned down to the couch and Louis straddling his waist, shoving a pillow in his face.