Winter [Harry Styles AU]

eighteen

winter // eighteen

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"I'm just saying," Lena argues, stepping over Cass's leash when she crosses the sidewalk to sniff at a random pole, "that a real coat would probably be a good investment."

"Why do you think that my leopard coat isn't a good investment? It's looks awesome. And the fact that Cass has a matching doggy sweater makes it, like, twelve times as good as an investment because then it's twelve times as awesome."

"Awesome isn't the word I would use," Lena says sweetly. "Besides, aren't you cold?"

Harry kicks some snow at her without much effort. "Lena. You could throw me into the Arctic with a pack of wolves right now and I'd speak to them in their native language. That's how warm I am."

By the time they get back to the flat, they're out of breath and covered in show, their hats askew and cheeks pink from the mini snowball flight that ensued. Lena is ready to drink about three gallons of coffee and then curl up around Harry, but, unfortunately, there's a message on the board of 4B.

flat 4b meeting in session. only enter if u have alcohol and/or snacks (or if u r niall we love u niall). swag.

"Meeting?" Lena looks up at Harry. "Did you know about this?"

Harry shrugs and pushes through the door, unbuckling Cass from her leash. "It probably has something to do with naked yoga again."

They find the other four boys are sitting around the graffittied kitchen table, drinking amber liquid out of wine glasses. In front of the single empty chair that Lena and Harry tend to occupy are two more glasses of presumably alcohol. A cheese platter is carefully arranged in the middle of the table.

The whole setup reminds Lena of the time they had a 4B meeting to outline a peace treaty regarding the Official Couch Cuddling Arrangement. That was a three-hour ordeal in which absolutely nothing was accomplished besides Zayn breaking his personal Most Shots Taken in an Hour record.

"Is this about naked yoga?" is the first thing Harry asks as he settles into the empty chair. He pulls Lena down with him so she's sitting comfortably half on top of his left thigh. "Because if so, I'm just gonna go ahead and use my one veto for the year."

"Harry," Liam chides from where he's curled against Zayn across the table. "We didn't just buy an eighty pound bottle of scotch and a fucking cheese platter so that we could talk about you flouncing your wang all around the apartment."

"Eighty pounds? You're right, you would have spend at least a hundred if we were talking about my wang." Harry picks up his glass and sniffs it suspiciously. Then he downs the whole thing in one sip. Then he starts coughing. "I didn't like that at all."

Liam already looks 200% done. Lena can sympathize. "Can we all just be serious for like twenty minutes? That's all I'm asking. We're having a serious conversation about stuff. Just us in our flat. Being serious and whatnot. Chatting away about current events."

Lena raises her eyebrow. "So like a salon?"

"I'm fairly sure none of us are getting a hair cut," Harry whispers to her. "None of us are getting a hair cut, right?" he asks, this time louder for the rest of the boys.

"No, no, like a salon, 1700's, they went and shared ideas and - never mind. No hair cuts is the important thing."

"Anyways," says Liam, and then he slides an important looking piece of paper across the kitchen table towards them, which is weird, because important looking pieces of paper usually go in a box under the cupboard to be ignored forever or until they get kicked out of their flat or arrested. "Look at this."