Louis spoke to Harry every day the next two weeks. Sometimes it was short, small text conversations of sending memes off Instagram or Harry finding a vintage sweater in a consignment shop and sending it to Louis for his opinion. He didn't know how he became Harry's fashion expert, but he knew the sweater would look good on Harry regardless.Sometimes they got drinks between Public Speaking and Harry's poetry class. Louis always got tea, Harry always got coffee.
Then there were other times that they'd hang out for a while, times before Harry's shift where he stuck around campus, so he doesn't have to drive back home and sat on Louis' stool at Rough Patch. If Louis was busy, Harry would do homework.
And they talked. They talked a lot, catching up on each other's lives now that they've crossed paths. They had a lot of time to make up. Because they both had the feeling that somehow their souls were connected, they were destined to meet at some point. There was no other explanation for how someone can settle in with a stranger like they've lived together, like they grew up together.
Harry told Louis that he used to find as many odd jobs as he could, like working on a farm, and at a bakery, and delivering flowers. Because he wanted to be really busy and he had a hard time making friends and making friends was just easier when you had something like work in common. And Louis told him that he couldn't imagine a world where it was hard for Harry Styles to make friends, that he was charming.
Louis told Harry that in the time he took a gap year, his mum was struggling with depression and almost lost her job. She had gone through a divorce and he wanted to be there to support his sisters and his mum. Harry told him he was so strong.
On this particular Thursday, after their class together, Harry seemed off. Louis couldn't put his finger on it. "Did you sleep okay last night?"
"Huh?" Harry asked, he was zoned out, staring at the menu of the cafe even though he always ordered the same thing every time. And Louis stepped up to the counter, because it was their turn and Harry wasn't really paying that much attention, and ordered their normal drinks. A peppermint tea and a skim milk latte.
"Did you sleep okay last night?"
"Yeah, fine. Why?"
"I don't know, you just seem off."
"Uh- I'm okay." Harry said, and he fidgeted with his rings. He brushed his hair back, even though it wasn't in his eyes, three times.
And they spoke at the same time. "Do you..." "You don't..."
Louis blushed and looked up to meet Harry's eyes.
"You first," he insisted, eagerly. And Harry knew it was pointless to argue with Louis, he learned early on during their talks that when Louis used that tone, there was no winning.
"Do you want to come to mine Saturday? I'm having like a couple friends over for a barbeque, bonfire thing. You don't have to if you don't want to. It's just I really feel like we are like good friends, you know? And you don't even have to bring anything. You can bring Liam and Zayn too. If you uh... if you want." Harry rambled, eyes down. Never looking at Louis once.
"H, I would love to." Louis said after he let Harry ramble on, smile genuine on his face. "What time should we be over?"
And Harry's smile was so bright and the dimple in his cheek was like a god damn cavern of joy. Louis, despite all of his built up self-control, did not resist standing on his tip toes to poke his finger into it. Harry just acted like it was completely normal, like it was something they did before, something he was used to. "See you at seven," Harry said right before he disappeared into his classroom, leaving Louis leaning forward on his tiptoes.
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Songs For How You Taste | l.s.
FanfictionEver since Harry stumbled into Rough Patch, Louis couldn't get him out of his head, whether it's teasing him about his music taste, or trying to see the blush that creeps over his face, or making the dimple in his cheek make an appearance. * "I wor...