Give Me Truths || l.s

chapter 3

By the time Saturday rolls around, and the concert, Harry and Louis text almost constantly. Harry’s one of those really good texters, always replying within minutes and giving advance warning if he has to stop replying in the middle of a conversation to do something else for a while. Louis loves that because he’s the same way; sometimes he forgets that not everyone lives off of their phone and gets confused when he has to wait hours for a text back.

Together, though, they make a good pair. It makes sense when Louis looks at the way Harry is about his phone when they’re together- it buzzes and he snatches it right up to reply. Maybe that would bother someone else, but not Louis. He just smiles and nods when Harry explains that it’s Thomas texting him to come over later or asking him where he is. They’re the important things, if Harry’s face is anything to go off of.

But apparently it isn’t just Thomas, because he’s equally attentive to Louis. They text even more than usual in the hours leading up to the concert, because Harry’s so excited he can hardly breathe and Louis can’t help but be charmed by it.

(Harry, 4:41 PM) What should I wear?

(Louis, 4:42 PM) Dunno, what does one wear to an indie rock concert?

(Harry, 4:43 PM) I was hoping you’d know :( I don’t want to look like an idiot…

(Louis, 4:44 PM) H, I reaaaally don’t think it matters that much what you wear. People are there to see the band, not you, right? :)

(Harry, 4:45 PM) Well. Yeah. But.

(Louis, 4:46 PM) Just don’t wear anything too mainstream and you’ll be alright, yeah?
(Louis, 4:46 PM) And by that, I mean wear whatever you want to wear. Your favorite outfit. You’re going to go see a band that you like, so it makes sense to wear clothes that you like!

(Harry, 4:47 PM) That makes sense :)

(Louis, 4:48 PM) Of course it does, I said it ;)

They agree that Louis will pick Harry up at his flat at 6, so they can make sure to be at the venue early enough to get a spot near the front. The closer it gets to 6, the more exclamation points Harry tacks on to the end of every sentence until finally it’s time and Louis is parking the car and bounding up the stairs.

The smile Harry was wearing when he opened the door could have dazzled a satellite right out of the sky. “Hey, Louis,” he said breathlessly.

But Louis was too busy looking at the other things Harry was wearing. Gone were the baggy, faded jeans and worn out tee shirts that he usually had on. Instead, he wore a black blazer over a sheer button-down shirt that was only half buttoned. A black and grey scarf- the thin kind meant more for fashion than warmth- hung loosely around his neck.

And then there was the matter of his jeans. They were black, dark enough still that they had to be brand new, and they were tight enough that Louis had to make sure it wasn’t body paint that Harry was wearing. It was easy now to see that he had long, thin legs with shapely thighs and toned calves that you never would have noticed when they were swimming in acid-wash denim three sizes too big.

“Just let me grab my keys really quick, sorry,” Harry said, turning to lean across the kitchen table to grab them and his phone.

“Absolutely,” Louis managed to reply when Harry had already been facing him again for a good fifteen seconds, and it was not because he’d been distracted thinking about Harry’s butt in those microscopic jeans. That would be inappropriate, because Harry had a boyfriend. So Louis wasn’t. At all. No way.

Harry looked at him in confusion. “Absolutely what?”

“What?”

“You said ‘absolutely.’”