Styles Academy ¬ Larry *Solo Harry, Schoolboy Louis* #Wattys2017

Causing Trouble

"Let's go to the dance room first, okay?!" Louis says excitedly, running with Harry following behind. Louis' smiling from ear to ear, and so is Harry.

With his long hair flying as he runs, Harry feels free. Louis runs up an unexpected staircase, and Harry follows suit. With a turn to the right, Louis stops running, he and Harry both out of breath. The two are now on the dance hall, and Harry's song "Perfect" is blasting from the large dance studio. Louis shoves the door open, and the people inside scream at the sight of him and Harry.

"OH HELL! IT'S HARRY!" shouts a girl named Leslie, her large chest spilling from her tank top. Sometimes Louis absolutely hates the fact that S.A. has no rules on clothing whatsoever. "Oh, Lewis is here, too." Leslie adds, rolling her eyes and getting close to Harry.

"It's Louis, you-"

"Hi, Harry," Leslie interrupts breathily, batting her eyelashes at Harry while she plays with her black hair. "I'm Leslie."

"You're a slutty ass bitch that can't dance for shit, that's what you are." Louis tells the girl, crossing his arms with a pissed off expression. Leslie scoffs, and everyone in the room goes quiet.

Someone even turns off the stereo.

"Oh, really?!" Leslie laughs, tilting her head back. "I can't dance?"

"That's literally what I fucking told you, but hey, sounds like you just confirmed it." Louis shrugs, causing some students in the room to snicker. Leslie rolls her eyes.

"I have an idea, let's both dance with Harry, and let him decide who's better." Leslie suggests, putting a hand on her hip. Harry's eyes widen in panic.

"I can't dance to save my life." Harry warns, shaking his hands. "Someone would definitely fall, or something! Most likely me..." Louis snorts, knowing that his idol's dancing 'skills' could surely cause someone's death.

"That's the truth." Louis says, stifling a laugh. Harry rolls his eyes fondly. "I have a better idea, Slutlie," Louis begins, boldly stepping up to the girl, his arms crossed sassily.

"Knowing that Harry can't dance for shit," Louis glances at Harry, "I still love you though," Louis interjects, "why don't we both dance with Harry, and whoever he dances better with is the one that can truly dance."

The small crowd hums in agreement, some of them high fiving Louis. Leslie squints evilly at Louis, smirking right after. She begins to slowly walk around Louis.

"Fine," she begins, walking in a circle around Louis. "But let's make this interesting..."

"I'm listening." Louis announces, an eyebrow raised. Leslie stops her walking around Louis and stands close to Harry.

"Whoever Harry doesn't dance well with has to quit the dance team." Leslie says, and some gasps flow throughout the dance studio. Louis isn't fazed at all by this, but Harry's eyes are slightly widened.

"Uhm, hate to break it to the two of you, but I'm positive I won't be able to dance well at all!" Harry exclaims, but Louis shakes his head.

"Don't worry about dancing well, Harry." Louis decides, and Leslie furrows her eyebrows. "Just let go and feel..." Louis tells Harry, staring into his eyes. "Feel a connection with whoever your dancing with, and there should be no problem." Louis shrugs, a small smile on his face.

Leslie rolls her eyes and struts over to the stereo, swaying her hips on purpose. "Enough of all this inspirational shit," she announces snidely, now giving her full attention to Harry. "Take off your suit jacket, you'll get really hot dancing with me." she says, her 'sexy' voice sounding rather constipated to Louis.

"What song should we dance to, babe?" Leslie asks, smiling at Harry.

Harry shrugs, his eyebrows scrunched together. "Uh, I don't really care. Anything is fine, I guess." Harry tells her dismissively, pulling off his jacket, politely handing it to Louis. "Hold on to that for me, okay, love?" Harry asks Louis softly, a smile following after.

"Sure." Louis says, taking it gingerly as he smiles at Harry. Leslie huffs, wishing the two would stop having eye sex.

As soon as Leslie chooses a song, the other students scatter out of the way. "Sorry" by Justin Bieber fills the room, and Harry already knows he won't feel anything dancing with Leslie. Louis moves out of the way, holding Harry's jacket close to him. Out of nowhere, Leslie begins to grind on Harry, causing the lad to almost shove her away. Harry doesn't like where this is going.

Someone in the crowd wolf whistles, which motivates Leslie to go even farther. Harry moves his body to the song, discretely trying to move away from Leslie. She notices though, turns around quickly, and pulls Harry close to her. Their lips almost meet, and Louis glares at the two. Louis sighs dramatically, making Harry's eyes shift to him.

"Help me." Harry mouths, his eyes wide and pleading. That's all it takes for Louis to get up from his spot on the floor, walk over to the stereo, and yank Leslie's ipod from the cord. The song cuts off, but Leslie doesn't stop invading Harry's body through dance.

"Bitch, you can stop now." Louis tells her, making her stop. She looks at Louis, then turns to Harry and pulls him into a kiss.

Louis' eyes widen, and the class gasps. Harry doesn't kiss back, he doesn't even move at all, and that includes moving the hell away from Leslie. Then, much to Louis' dismay, for some odd reason, Harry kisses her back.

"What the literal hell..." Louis thinks, wanting to yank Harry by his wild, Tarzan looking curls. "I should rip his fucking lips off."