Butterflies & Hurricanes || l.s

Chapter 4

It's been a grueling week, and Louis is just about out of all the fighting and trying left in his body. It really is day in and day out with Harry.

He starts out each day quietly bickering with Harry in Victorian Literature about everything under the sun. Quite literally, actually. Harry picked an argument about the most logical rainforest canopy to live in if you were a toucan when Louis got out a little baggie of Froot Loops to eat.

Like, what the actual fuck.

Not to mention that Harry has an infuriating tendency to hog over half of their shared Literature desk with all of his shit and his skimpy, gangly arms. Louis wants to smack his head with one of Liam's color-coded binders.

The two of them simply bear one another's presence at lunch, whether they go out to eat with the other lads, or they sit in the courtyard under the big tree, munching away and chatting with everyone but one another.

They only had one outburst at lunch - Harry claimed Louis' sandwich looked gross, so Louis threw it at him - but they try to keep it to a minimum for their friends' sake. However, angry glares as sharp as daggers are constantly flying through the air, aimed straight for one another.

Anatomy is decent, Louis must admit. Albeit, they haven't been in the class for very long at all, Harry mostly talks to Niall and Louis sticks to Zayn and Liam, which is nice. And the professor has already started discussing the plethora of dissections planned for this semester, which perks Louis' interest. Dissecting things is fun.

Much to Louis' amusement, Zayn looks white as a ghost every time the professor mentions cutting into a lab rat or a frog. Louis can't help but laugh at his dearest friend before he or Liam passes him some water to drink.

And then there's ceramics: Louis' favorite class with Louis' least favorite person.

What a hoot.

But Louis loves the class anyway, Harry be damned. They're seated right next to each other at a table of four, no thanks to a pre-planned seating chart (Louis tried to plead his way out of it, but to no avail). There are two new exchange students sitting across from them at their table, which is pretty sick, and Louis enjoys making conversation with them.

They're like his life preservers, saving him from drowning in misery while being sat next to Harry.

And if one of them happens to be the boy Louis tried to flirt with on the second day they had met, then yes, Louis may stare a little too much. But he tries not to, truly.

Cute boy, Thomas, has electrifying blue eyes that, despite being the color of fresh ice, are warm and friendly, and Louis just can't help it but lose himself in them here and there. His pale white skin is soft (shame on Louis for accidentally brushing up against his hand while grabbing some clay), like the fuzz of a peach.

Not to mention that he is pretty fucking fit (and almost ridiculously tall) since he's the goalie of the school's hockey team. Thomas is notorious for wearing shirts on the tighter side, and Louis can literally see his 6-pack. So yeah, he stares.

Duh.

And he's from Sweden. Sweden.

Louis often daydreams of the powdery white snow landing atop his perfectly styled hair, his bright smile glowing at the sight.

Not to be a hopeless romantic or anything.

The other boy, Juan Luis, transferred from Colombia. Niall mentioned that Juan was in a lot of his classes this semester and that Niall thinks his accent is even better than his, which is big talk for the jolly Irishman. Clearly, Juan has him wooed (or so Louis would like to think).