The Art of Being a Gentleman

Chapter 2

In the days leading up to the arrival of the oldest Tomlinson child, Harry splits his time between going on small outings with Victoria and developing lesson plans. He's determined to take this problematic boy and mold him into a model citizen of high society. Along with everything he knows, Harry plans to teach him knowledge straight from the most notable books pertaining to good manners and proper etiquette in all kinds of scenarios. Naturally, his parents feel immense pride, constantly bragging about how seriously he's taking his project to their friends and colleagues. His older siblings are annoyed as always about the praise he's receiving, but they aren't as obvious as they usually are about it. They just sit back and wait for Margaret's plan to unfold.

It's a brisk Sunday morning when Harry is sitting on the steps of the mansion, patiently waiting for the arrival of his guest. He's dressed casually in a pressed pair of jeans, shiny brown boots, and a crisp white button up. His parents wanted to wait outside with him, but he wouldn't allow it. He doesn't want his guest to feel the slightest bit of discomfort. Harry taps a little beat against his knees as his eyes remain glued to the gate. He's not at all nervous, but he is curious. He's curious of what this man is like, why he's been deemed problematic by practically everyone in town. It's a mystery he's about to solve in any moment and he can't say he isn't excited.

Just a few minutes past nine, he finally sees a car appear over the horizon behind the gate. The closer it gets, the more he can make out its shiny, electric blue paint job, immaculate rims, and tinted windows. When it enters the property through the open gates, Harry can faintly hear music blasting from it. Harry grimaces at the gaudiness of the entire display. The car rounds the fountain and stops right in front of Harry as he slowly descends the steps. He stops when it shuts off and stands frozen in place as he waits for someone to get out.

A beat passes before the driver side door swings open and a ridiculous cloud of smoke is released into the air. A brunet who looks around the same age as Harry steps of the car. He's decked out in tight fitting, high waisted pants, a black shirt that shows just a sliver of his midriff, black sneakers, and a gaudy, white fur coat. His hair is messy and sticks out all over the place, indicating that he just rolled out of bed and put on whatever he could find in his closet. His harsh blue eyes are glazed over due to whatever drug is flowing through his system, and they stare at Harry, seeming to analyze him. Harry swallows to soothe the dryness in his throat. The thoughts running through his head about this man's physique and facial structure are not the type of thoughts he should be having. He digs his nails in his palms and approaches the man with an easy smile.

"That's quite a set of wheels you got there." He says.

The man raises an eyebrow, looking almost confused, before he speaks. "Gets me around, I guess."

Harry's nails dig harsher into his palms as he feels a blush start to rise in his cheeks. The man's voice is sweet, raspy, melodic music to his ears and that annoys him to no end.

"So, uh, what's your name?" Harry asks, cursing his voice for slightly wavering.

"Louis," The man answers with a smirk. "So, you're gonna teach me how to be proper and polite and all that other shit?"

Harry winces. "Um, can you please refrain from using any swear words?"

"Can you please answer my question?" Louis counters, amusement playing across his features.

It becomes obvious to Harry that Louis is trying to provoke him, to get him to snap. However, Harry isn't the type of person who loses his cool so easily.

"I will happily answer all of your questions when we get inside." He says with an award-winning smile.

Louis grimaces at that, and Harry takes that as a win.