Not Again? || l.s

e i g h t

e i g h t | rebel you

I'm so used to being used
So I love when you call unexpected
'Cause I hate when the moment's expected
So I'ma care for you, you, you

~ 'earned it' by the weeknd

ツ

The library, more than anything, was Harry's favourite place on campus. It might just be his favourite place in the whole world, actually. Maybe it's the books, which he's always been drawn to. Aisle after aisle, shelf after shelf of books. Or maybe it's because no one bothers him in the library. Everyone's too busy doing their own thing to talk to anyone else. And it's also the only sure fireplace that Louis never, ever goes.

Which was why he nearly had a heart attack when he reached up to grab a book, tugged it off the shelf, and turned to find Louis behind him. He looked so out of place. He's wearing his jersey today, unsurprisingly —it's like the team lived in those things during weeks that they have an upcoming game— and it's like seeing a lion in the middle of the ocean. It's like seeing a shark in the desert. It didn't make sense.

"What are you doing here?" Harry demanded.

Louis looked uncomfortable, too. He shifted on his feet, crossed his arms over his chest and looked around. Maybe he's afraid of someone seeing him here or something. 

"I just—" he cut off, running a hand through his hair. "You need to tell Niall you don't want to go to the party."

Harry let his arm drop to his side, book held precariously in his fingertips. 

"I wasn't planning on going to the stupid party anyway," he said.

"Good," Louis snapped. "I don't know why he'd even invite you. You wouldn't belong there."

Harry raised his eyebrows, and that comment stung, just a little. But it came from Louis so he didn't let it bother him. 

"Did you really come all the way in here just to tell me that? How long did it take you to find the library, anyway?"

Louis glared at him for that, "Just text Niall and tell him you don't want to go, but don't tell him I told you to."

Harry leaned against the shelf. Oh, this was going to be fun.

"And what's in it for me?"

"What's— You don't even want to go!" Louis exclaimed loudly. In the distance, someone shushed him. "You don't even want to go," he repeats, quieter. "So just tell Niall that."

This wasn't surprising. Louis went from an asshole to major asshole the closer he got to a game. The fact that he went out of his way to come tell Harry not to go the party probably has more to do with the fact that he needed an outlet for his nerves, and Harry always seemed to be it. That didn't mean that it pissed Harry off any less.

"Maybe I want to go, actually," Harry said. "You know, I think I will", he placed the book on the shelf and pulls out his phone, bringing up Niall's contact. "I'll ask Niall what time I need to be ready—"

His phone was tugged out of his fingers without warning. Harry reached for it, but Louis held it behind his back, his stupid curved-eyebrows furrowed together. 

"Why do you always have to be difficult?" he hissed.

"Give me my phone back," Harry said carefully, going from irritated but amused to pissed in seconds. "How many times do I have to tell you not to touch my stuff?"