Larry, Actually.

Twenty-Two: December 22nd

He chickens out. And spends the next hour or two sitting in a cafe, downing so many cups of tea that he's convinced he's going to go into debt.

Debt via tea, how fitting for someone British. Honestly, it's not shocking. Louis has a feeling that if you were to stop anyone were to stop a British person on the street and ask them their preferred method of bankruptcy, he's certain they'd choose something like tea. Maybe baked beans, or fish and chips (fish 'n' chips if you're cultured) or something less food related like debt via queen and/or royal memorabilia. Something so blatantly British that this one person is single handedly holding up the British stereotype, and doing a damn good fucking job at it.

This person would probably also have a stereotypical British accent and way of dress. It shames Louis to admit that this person is probably himself. He's so obviously British that it would actually be laughable for someone to think that he isn't, in fact, English. He once got told that he smelled British, whatever that means. 

Why is he going on a mental spiel of talking about his Britishness? Well, naturally, to avoid the Harry Conundrum. The Harry Conundrum which is the bane of his fucking existence.

He orders yet another cup tea, this time ordering a cookie with it. May as well enjoy the bankruptcy while he's going into it. Live with luxury.

Luxury being a triple chocolate cookie from the little coffee shop down the road from his house.

It's banging, too.

***

Currently, he's standing outside Harry's house, pysching himself up for knocking on the door and Andrew Lincoln the fucking shit out of this situation. (fun fact, that's the name of the bloke who acts the character Mark, who is in love with Juliet, portrayed by the icon that is Kiera Knightly. Louis relates to Mark. Louis relates too much to Mark, the only difference between them being, well. Louis' a raging homosexual who could never ever in a million years pass for a heterosexual. And, well. Marks just a cis het guy. It's like someone skipped character customization on a video game when spamming 'x' to skip the tutorial or something and got stuck with the generic starter character, or like the character example the game creates for you. Why is he going on a video game/calling out Andre Lincoln spiel? Same reason for the tea debt/harmful British stereotypes that he upholds. Fear. Pure, red-hot, blinding fear. Fear that has kept him pacing outside Harry's house in the freezing cold in an inadequate jacket and annoyingly thin scarf for twenty minutes hyping himself up to just fucking knock on that damn purple door. Another thing. Why is the door purple? A question for another day.)

He takes a very deep shuddering breath, and marches with purpose towards the door, procrastinating a little to make sure his cards are all in order and the right way up, to make sure the boom box is working and in position.

It begins snowing, flakes settling in his hair.

Finally, Louis knocks.