Chapter 13

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Harry took Louis' bag, leaned in, and kissed his cheek. "Hey, love." Harry said.

Harry and Louis had been friends for almost four months now, and Louis still hadn't gotten used to Harry's voice. Whenever he spent any time away from Harry, even if it was only a couple hours like that day, hearing Harry's voice again would send butterflies through his belly.

"Hey, Haz." Louis said, pulling Harry into a hug. Louis nuzzled into the hug, smiling. Harry dropped Louis's bag in his room, then walked back to the kitchen. He pulled some roasted tomatoes out of the oven and sat them on top.

"What are you cooking? Smells good," Louis said, leaning in and sniffing – garlic and basil.

"A homemade Bolognese sauce and spaghetti." Harry crushed the roasted tomatoes into a sauce, mixing in more garlic and some other seasoning Louis didn't catch the name of.

"Need any help?" Louis asked, already cleaning up the crumpled towels Harry always left behind.

"Nope, you're my dinner date. You're supposed to relax, go enjoy the couch." Harry leaned over, kissing Louis' forehead before he sent him off.

There that word was again. Date.

Louis ignored the thoughts swirling in his head of what this was and what they were doing, instead opting to open a connect the pipes game on his phone. He was stuck on level 54.

His phone vibrated with an email alert.

Good evening Mr. Louis Tomlinson,

I hope this email finds you well. My name is Renee Vasquez. I got your contact information from your previous employer, Ms. Lynda Kelly, the social worker you've previously worked with in Doncaster.

Ms. Kelly is a good friend of mine and I was impressed with how she described your work ethic and your knack for working with children.

I'm in the process of launching an art-based summer program for children. Our first location would be in Manchester. You'd be working as a paraprofessional, teaching different art techniques to a rotating class of children. There will also be performing arts teachers and skill-based classes for the children. At the end, we are planning a big summer barbecue with a showcase.

The position is full time (forty hours a week), £15 an hour.

Please let me know if this is a position you'd be interested in.

I look forward from hearing from you,

Renee Vasquez

Louis blinked, astonished at the email. Wow, a paid position in his field for the summer. It was too good to be true.

Of course, it really was too good to be true. Manchester was an hour and a half away from his mum's house in Doncaster. Even longer if he got caught up in traffic, and even longer than that if he took the train. He was looking at a four-hour daily commute.

Unless he could find some place to stay closer. But he knew the places to rent in Manchester were ridiculous, too much for him to take on alone – and that's if he could even find a place willing to give him a lease for just three months.

It was impossible. Fucking fuck.

Louis sighed angrily, already drafting the haunting, disappointing email in his head. Thank you for your consideration, I regret to inform you that-

"Lou?" Harry said, standing at the end of the couch. "Food's done."

Louis just nodded, stood – maybe a little too aggressively and started walking towards the kitchen. Harry didn't move and Louis ran right into his chest.

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