The Compulsion to Find Love

Chapter 4: Library Shelves

The first lecture Louis attended took place in an enormous hall with endless rows of freshmen students. Constitutional law - a subject he was anxious to study - was taught by a tall beta clothed in dreary, grey shawls. Her tone matched her attire and by the end of the two-hour lecture the majority of students were struggling to keep their eyes open.

Louis spent the lecture frantically taking notes, fascinated by the beta's thoughtful comments about the national constitution and the amendments to it that had been proposed in recent years.

A constitution, ideally, expressed the most fundamental beliefs of a country; the rights and responsibilities of every citizen and demands placed upon them by the government. The English constitution had undergone major changes over the last three decades to coincide with improved omega rights and address social issues in the country. The piece of legislation stated that omegas were equal citizens to their alpha and beta counterparts. The social reality, however, was drastically different.

The beta explained how reception to the changes was received throughout the country and how unconstitutional practices, especially by medical practices and businesses, were addressed by the legal system. At ten o'clock, when the beta announced their assignment - a five thousand word paper on discrepancies in the most recent constitutional amendments - Louis heard an obnoxiously loud groan from a student seated behind him. He rolled his eyes at the student's behaviour while gathering his notebook and stationery.

The breeze swept Louis' hair in front of his eyes as he stepped outside. He felt an odd sense of both relief and accomplishment after the lecture. It had proceeded with merely curious glances directed at him and slight pushing in the crowd as some students tried to get close to him to perceive his scent.

"Cranberry, elderflower and a hint of sweet vanilla," he had been told by numerous friends and family members when he had tentatively asked upon his presentation as an omega.

Whenever he asked his mother, she always pressed a kiss against his forehead and smiled warmly at him. "You smell like my Louis," she would say. He would predictably groan in response and protest that such a description didn't give him any indication about his scent. She would laugh and embrace her son, flooding his senses with her comforting, feminine scent.

Louis thought of his mother in front of the kitchen stove, cooking and swaying to the music on the radio. She would absentmindedly move to the beat of the music and narrate her cooking process like she was on a cookery show, much to the amusement of her son. Louis would recounted a day at school and she would listen intently, giving him undivided attention.

His father would come home after a tiring day and sigh contently at the sight of his wife, dancing to the music in a floral apron, before wrapping his arms around her from behind. They never concealed their love for each other. Their relationship, their utmost commitment to each other made Louis yearn for something similar. As he crossed the courtyard, map clutched in his hand to find the lecture hall for his Tort Law seminar, he vowed to call his parents that evening.

He collided with a cotton jumper covering a strong chest and fell backwards onto a patch of grass.

"Watch where you're- oh, Louis. Are you okay?" he heard a gruff voice morph into one of concern.

Louis looked up from where he sat on the grass, map on his chest and satchel beside his leg, and saw Harry Styles staring at him with guilt written over his face.

"I'm fine, sorry," he answered, holding up the map in his hand. "Wasn't looking where I was going." He chuckled self-deprecatingly.

Harry offered a hand to help him up which he rejected, hoisting himself on his knees before he realised the compromising position he was in, kneeling directly in front of Harry. He blushed profusely, standing up immediately and throwing his satchel over his shoulder.