Songs For How You Taste | l.s.

Chapter 20

Seeing each other proved to be difficult that semester.

One of the producers at the station graduated in December, and they hadn't found a replacement for her yet. It was for the segment right before Harry's shift. So, he and Niall ended up splitting the responsibilities and Harry had to start heading into work two hours earlier than he usually did.

On Thursday, Louis stayed back in three-dimensional design class. They had a big project coming up, to design an abstract sculpture that took the design elements from three everyday objects. They had to bring in or take photos of objects they wanted to use. Being inventive was listed on the assignment sheet, counted for twenty percent of the whole project.

He had his earphones pressed firmly into his ears, playing piano ballads with no lyrics. He thought he heard someone speaking to him, so he popped out the left one. "Sorry?" He asked, looking up from his sketchbook.

"I'm heading out. Are you staying behind?" The graduate assistant, Gretchen, asked. Her hair was wound tightly in a French twist at the base of her neck, small soft curls framed her face. She peered at him over clear, plastic glasses. Charcoal ran under the base of her fingernails and looking at her, you'd never know that she was infamous among the undergrads for being the toughest grader.

"I am, through open studio hours. If that's alright."

"Of course," she replied, clutching her canvas bag on her side. "You have a good night."

Louis didn't hear her close the door – focused more on doing a rough sketch on combining the elements of wicker laundry basket and a clock. He didn't know what he was doing – Louis hated abstract work. But before he could make much progress on it, his phone buzzed in his pocket, his wordless piano replaced with the annoying shrill of his ringtone.

Louis automatically swiped to answer before he really registered who it was. "Hey, love!" his mum rang through.

"Hey, mum. You good?"

"'Course, I was just calling to check on you. I hadn't spoken to you this week, so I just wanted a check in."

Louis sighed down at his sketchbook and snapped it closed. "I'm just stressed with this one studio class. I've got a tough professor."

"I'm sorry, baby. I know you'll get through it." He could hear his mum smiling through her encouraging words. He listened to her chatter away about the girls, about her job, about running into her neighbor who might be having an affair at the grocery store with the clerk. Louis welcomed distraction, let it wrap around him, coddle him like the steam rising from the hot cup of tea his mum would've made him if he were there.

"Oh – how are Liam and Zayn?"

"They're good. Liam's hopefully settling into a better major for him. Zayn just started helping a grad student with an installment piece."

His mum's voice took on a knowing tone. "And Harry? How's he?"

Louis hadn't seen Harry since he bustled into Rough Patch earlier that week, on Monday afternoon. He stopped by after getting coffee at Hideout, rushing off to his creative writing class afterwards. The bell hadn't even stopped swinging from him opening the door by the time Harry pulled it open again to leave. He left Louis with a warm cup of tea in his hands and the lingering feeling of his bold lips on his cheek.

"He's good, yeah." He tried to keep his tone a little indignant – like a teenager complaining about someone going through their journal or their mum telling them to take out the trash five times. Because an indignant tone was safe – he could play like he didn't want his mum asking about his love life.