One Shots {l.s.}

Paintings & Pastels

*GUYS THERE IS NO SMUT IN THIS! JUST THOUGHT I WOULD LET YOU KNOW*

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Harry never expected it. He never thought that those stupid butterflies would be flying around in his stomach or that his palms would start sweat just at the sight of him. 'Him' being a normal, funny, well behaved lad who was known around school as the perfect guy. Harry knew that everyone fancied Louis. Every sort of girl, from Jillian Wolfe the punk to Andrea Malina the pretty one. Not that Jillian's not pretty, but you get what Harry's implying.

It just so happens to be inconvenient that Harry is also male and even if the rumours about Louis' sexuality is spreading around school, it's nothing Harry trusted. So what? If Louis was bisexual he still -probably- wouldn't notice a new kid, like Harry; a boy who had good grades, stayed quiet and hurried home to paint more pictures just because, well, that's what Harry did and felt comfortable with.

It's strange, how Harry fits in here in Doncaster. He likes it here, for sure. No one picking on him for his different taste in music, no people trying to communicate in any way and everyone seemed to mind their own business. So it was easy for Harry to admire Louis, it's not as if anyone would actually notice it. And who didn't admire Louis? Even if some may not fancy him, they still fancied his presence because it made anyone feel an ounce of joy in their life.

"Harry, mate. You can't sit on your bum here all day, I'm knackered, let's go home!" Matthew -a UNI student who lives with the Styles -complicated story really- said and tried pulling Harry up from the floor. The young one had been sitting there for almost an hour now; dreading the moment he had to leave. You see, from this spot you could see the green grass field through a floor-to-ceiling-window and on that field was the beautiful, beautiful man running around kicking the other soccer-team's arses with his quick movements.

"You can go, Matt. I'll just walk home" Harry said without tearing his eyes away from Louis.

"You said that yesterday when I picked you up as well, come on" Matt told Harry. He was sick of this loved-up-yet-kind-of-fucked-up expression that Harry always had on his face.

"I know, I know. Just... I have something I have to do, okay?" And Harry did, in fact, have something to do. An important task in his opinion.

"Is that something stalking the soccer lad, then I'm forcing you to go home. It's just creepy, Har" Matthew was still holding his hand out for Harry who wouldn't give into it.

"No, I... I really do have something to do" Harry promised and fiddled with the zipper of his backpack.

"Fine, but if it starts raining when you're on your way home, call me, yeah?" Harry nodded and then was left alone to stare again.

It was a spectacular sight to see; the moment when Louis' team won and the smile on the oh-my-god-reaction-worthy boy's smile just magically appeared as something made out of a piece of heaven that fell from the sky above. Speaking of the sky above, it did in fact look like the rain-filled clouds were getting closer.

So Harry gathered his things -a bottle of water and his phone- and walked in the opposite direction of the exit, because YOLO, right? No, YOLO is the last thing Harry would use to describe this situation, in fact it's the last thing he would use to describe any situation because it's something he had been complaining sense the second he heard it.

He passed a few students on his way to the guys' locker-room. Some of those people stopped talking to notice his presence -not recognizing his unfamiliar face- and some let him pass by without acknowledging him at all. It was somewhat a thing to get used to, Harry supposed. At least now these first couple of weeks that he's going to be at this school. By the mid-term-break everyone should be used to his ghost-like presence.