beauty//l.s au

one

a/n; writing about harold makes me feel like a poet c; -wowstylinson

"and... perfect!"

/click/

"stay there!"

/flash/

"to the right!"

/click/.

louis was tired of being treated like a dog. until he came along. harry styles.

the name sent involuntary shivers down the blue eyed boys spine. he was stupidly tall and lanky, with legs better than pretty much all of the female population and a cute little (nonexsistent) bum. his mossy green eyes sparkle with mischief, and his lips. oh, his sinfully perfect lips, pink and looking as soft as a babys behind carve the most beautiful smile. which of course unleash his crater like dimples, so deep louis could eat his morning cereal out of them. and of course, his curls... dark, glossy and bouncy. louis can just imagine what they feel like on his finger tips, like egyptian cotton or the finest silk.

he actually treats louis like a human being, with gentle touches to coax limbs into the right place or the stupid jokes behind the camera that make louis giggle like a school boy when he's meant to be serious. he's just a general dork.

and now louis can't stop thinking about him.

so he's basically fucked.