Living in London

HARRY'S POV

I exchanged wary glances with Louis as our last applicant knocked on the door. So far we've had a homeless man, a transgender, an illegal immigrant from Mexico, another transgender, a nudist, a thirteen year old who had run away from home, and a man who had been released from an Insane Asylum three weeks ago. This was our last applicant. At this rate, we'd be renting our spare room to nobody. Or maybe the first transgender... He seemed friendly enough.

"You get the door," Louis instructed. I gaped at him.

"I got it last time!" I said back.

"And the time before that I opened the door and got kicked in the leg by Oliver Twist."

"Who the heck is Oliver Twist?" I asked, staring at Louis.

"Some dancing orphaned kid. I think that was his name... it was one of Elle's movies."

"I don't know why you le-" I began to say, but I was cut off by a loud and impatient 'ahem' and more pounding on the door. I glared evilly at Louis before giving up and running a hand through my hair. "Fine."

Shoving my clipboard of questions onto Louis's lap and ignoring his triumphant grin I left my place on the couch and stood behind the door. With a deep breath I pulled the door open, hoping I wouldn't be letting a rapist or a psyched fan into the flat. Without looking at the person on the other side of the door, I turned around and strode back to Louis. I noticed him staring at the guest. What now? Another transgender? An eskimo? An extra head? I don't think I could handle any more weirdness today.

"You're Ariadne?" Louis asked, checking the clipboard in his lap again and clearing his voice. I finally decided to stop being rude and acknowledge the person. Wow. No extra head- just dark blonde hair and blue eyes. And boobs.

"Hey! I know who you are!" the girl said excitedly. What accent did she have? It sounded a little... Kiwi? No, Australian... definitely Australian. Louis discreetly nudged me and I realized I'd been staring at her neckline. I quickly looked at the floor. "You're from-"

"Yeah, yeah... One Direction, we know. Speaking of," Louis said, suddenly in business mode, "before we begin we are going to have to ask you to sign a contract stating that you will not release our address to the fans or the media."

The girl- Ariadne, the clipboard said her name was- shifted her handbag strap awkwardly on her shoulder. "I was going to say you're the guy from the Toms billboard at the airport..."

"You mean you don't know who we are?" Louis asked incredulously.

"Should I?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Never mind. I'm Louis Tomlinson and this is Harry Styles."

"You're Ariadne?" I asked stupidly. Her gaze flicked to me for the first time. Louis shot me a look. "I just mean... well... you're a girl."

"Good observation!" Ariadne said with false enthusiasm. "You get a gold star!" Louis, the traitor, snickered at that. I couldn't help the corner of my mouth twitching upwards in a smile.

"I just meant that we were looking for a guy," I said.

She shook her head. "Nuh-uh; preferred gender was not specified on the street fliers."

Ariadne fished the clipping out of her small bag and handed it to us. She was right: we only said 'Roommate Wanted' along with other minor details about ourselves and the interview date. We just assumed that people would see that a seventeen and a twenty year old- both male- were looking for a roommate, and assume it was a male roommate wanted.