young & beautiful | harry's pov

xvi.

a/n: two updates in a week??? caroline active era??!?!? we love to see it
ayo remember when i used to update everyday

its like 3 in the morning lol im losing my mind so this chapter is chaotic asf

(S) hey!!! Sorry this chapter came out later than expected- next chapter is mine, might be on schedule this time😭 enjoy!!

Harry's thoughts run rampant throughout the night as he lays in bed in a sleep-induced haze; though completely and utterly exhausted, he couldn't sleep, at all. Though weariness tugged at his bones, and his eyes threatened to flutter shut, his mind couldn't stop the war of chaos that's threatening to overwhelm him, as he lies there, periodically fading in and out of consciousness, too tired to even move from the uncomfortable position he was laying in.

So many things happened that day (or was it yesterday? He couldn't tell), the amount of new things he'd learnt about Louis very much nearly overwhelming him. It hurts his brain, almost, yet it's fascinating to an unimaginable degree. It almost feels like Louis ripped open the blinds in a way, like he'd shown some light into Harry's misery. It's refreshing.

But as he finally gets up from his terrible night's sleep (it can't even be considered sleep, more like a nap), he finds himself holding the manuscript paper where he'd written the melody Louis had listened to. It feels like fire, almost as if hot to the touch, yet Harry clutches onto it for dear life, his eyes stuck, frantically scanning each note like it's his life mission, everything eventually blending together like hues of watercolor.

He doesn't think his room's been this silent since Halloween.

And just like that, he hears a knock at the door.

Suddenly he remembers that yes, he indeed had a guest over today and yes, he had totally forgotten. Carding a hand through his hair, he stares at himself through the mirror for a moment, and despite him looking extremely casual. It could pass. He looks somewhat presentable. With that, he exits his bedroom and steps out.

Harry expected a lot of things.

He did not expect to see Louis Tomlinson talking to the other boy.

"Hey mate. I'm, uh, here to see Harold," he sees the boy say, looking around, a little unsure.

He definitely didn't expect Louis to look pissed.

"He's not here," Louis says flatly, Harry watching as the blue-eyed lad slammed the door into his face before turning around. The proud smirk he wore slipped off his face as quickly as it came, and the victorious look he had fell immediately.

"What was that about?" Harry demands, crossing his arms over his chest, watching Louis' face drop further, eyes gawky and awkward, his mouth hung open.

"Er-"

"You had no right to send my guest away," he says sharply, cutting the boy off. Slight anger coursed through him, but was overtaken by the utter confusion at the action of the latter.

"I know," Louis replies, crossing his arms and shrugging in what almost seems to be unapologetic, "But I just did, didn't I?"

Harry glares, "Tell him to come back."

"I'm not your puppet."

"Tell him."

"I wouldn't even if I wanted to. And you know why?" Louis asks, eyes pinched into a nasty glare as he takes a step towards him, who retaliates by glaring at him harder, "Because all of those people are nothing but harpies. And you can do better than that, you great, sex-crazed, bumbling oaf. So, yes, I'm going to send them away every chance I get, and I'm not going to apologize for it, and I'm not going to pretend otherwise!" And with that, Louis sniffs and turns away, posture victorious and adamant.