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Harry hates runway shows.
Always has, always will.
They just bore him, it's always the same. Beautiful girls, beautiful dresses, good music, even better food. Basically every straight dude's dreams.
So what's the problem you may ask?
Well, Harry loves the food, enjoys the live music and even the dresses don't bother him too much. He simply can't give a damn about the beautiful girls, about any girl at that.
He tries covering up a yawn as yet another girl in a ballgown comes speedwalking down the runway, his mum shooting him a glare from where she's sitting next to him. It's her big night and she cannot have her son yawning at her own show, now can she?
Harry is about to yawn again but when the next model comes into the picture, he is left breathless.
A boy with short feathery hair starts walking, the golden dress matching perfectly with his golden skin, making him glow.
"Who'se that?"
"Louis Tomlinson," his mum whispers, a proud smirk on her face, "this is his first show, signed the contract last week. The brand's new angel."
"Wow."
"Oh love, I know."
•••
Harry is standing in the corner, a glass of sparkling wine in hand and his eyes on his shoes.
Harry hates runway shows, but he might even hate the afterparties more.
Models trying to chat him up, obviously to get closer to his mum, with their annoying high pitched voices and obnoxious laughter. And don't get him started on the long nails that pierce through your skin when you try to leave.
"Love?" His mum calls as she walks closer, a boy on her arm, "Louis, I told you about my son, right? Harry?"
"I don't think you ha-"
"Well, this is him. Harry, Louis, Louis, Harry," Anne rushes out, "Harry very much enjoyed your walk tonight, Louis. I am so so glad I found you, angel."
"Thanks, Mrs-"
"Oh no, no, love," Anne looks around the room, her eyes falling on someone and within seconds she leaves with a wave and a smile.
Harry watches the whole scene with wide eyes, not knowing what to say once his mum leaves.
"Uh, it's uh, it's true," He scratches his wrist awkwardly, looking down again.
"What is?" The soft voice of Louis rings in his ear and he swears he can hear angels sing.
"Uh, I uh, I did enjoy your walk, uh beautiful dress," Harry looks into the piercing blue eyes of the new angel, his new angel. "Matches you."
"I'm gold?"
"No, uh, it uh, matches your uh, glow?"
"My glow?" Louis gigles, wrinkles forming next to his eyes and Harry just wants to touch his cheekbone.
"You, and the dress, reminded me of that movie," Harry's lips form a smirk, winking at Louis. "What's it called? A Disney one. Princess, golden dress, beast."
But before Louis can answer, Harry cuts him off, "Oh! Booty and the beast!"
