17 Black (Part Two)

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hello all!

hope you're all doing well, i just graduated high school!! finally done with that shit thank the LORD

also turning 18 tmr 😩

vote, comment, do what you do

love you sluts (in a nice way)

- raine <3
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Louis wakes to the sun shining through the blinds and into his eyes, and he groans as he moves his head. He moves in closer against Harry, who's still very much asleep, hoping to find a little warmth. Harry's arms tighten around him, and Louis rests his forehead against his chest.

What he did not expect next was the sound of front door slamming shut (very loudly, as well). He feels Harry flinch at the noise, and his body shifts slightly as Harry raises his head.

"Zayn?" Harry groggily calls- which, okay, Louis briefly wonders who the hell just automatically assumes it's a friend when someone walks into your house unannounced.

"Try again," a woman's blunt voice answers from the living room. Louis frowns, barely having time to register anything before Harry quickly sits up, knocking Louis to the side.

"Fuck," Harry whisper-shouts, hiding his face in his hands. Louis raises his eyebrows, sitting up next to him.

"Who-"

"It's my mum," Harry cuts him off, stress evident in his voice. Louis' eyes widen, and he's suddenly trying to hold back his laughter. Harry looks to him with annoyance, swatting his shoulder.

"What the fuck are you laughing for?" Harry asks incredulously. Louis grins, to which Harry only rolls his eyes.

"You're so in for it," Louis tells him, laughing as Harry shoves him.

"For Christ's sake, never mind- I'm coming in," Harry's mum says, her footsteps nearing closer towards the bedroom. "Don't be naked."

Before either of them have the chance to move, the door swings open, revealing a woman who looks incredibly similar to Harry. Her dark brown hair and light eyes stand out against her tan skin- she's very pretty, even when clearly pissed off.

"Harry Edward Styles, you absolute twat," she says, storming over to the bed. She picks up Harry's pillow and hits him over the head with it as he bats it away.

"Calm down, Mum, Jesus," Harry mutters, brushing his hair out of his face. "And it's just lovely to see you too. May I ask what you're doing here?" Harry's mum crosses her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I spoke to Zayn last night, and he let it slip that you're sleeping with a bloody child," she says, exasperated. Her eyes flick to Louis, who instantly covers his head with the comforter. "And this is him, yeah? You want to explain to your poor mum what went through your brain to make you believe this is a good idea?"

"I'm eighteen," Louis tries, though he knows that doesn't really help much.

"Barely an adult, then. How brilliant," she scoffs. "What the hell made you think that fucking a student was the right move? And why did I hear it from Zayn, instead of you?" Louis frowns, and pulls the blanket from his face.

"Such vulgar language," he notes, shrugging with innocence when Harry gives him a look.

"Nothing out of you," she says pointedly. Louis holds his hands up as if to say he surrenders, and her attention goes back to Harry. "Well?"

Harry sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, and Louis wishes he could do something to help. Though he finds the situation at least a little bit funny, he can't imagine how stressed Harry is.