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Chapter 1:

Louis chewed on his thumbnail, his clean, short fingernails tapping away at the keys. His face glowed in shades of blues from his Macbook Pro.

"What do you wanna watch babe?" He peered at the movies on the bright screen. "We could either watch Suicide Squad or Legend of Tarzan. You look like him with the long hair."

Harry hummed, squinting his eyes at his own screen. He scrolled down the page with intensity, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"You can pick. Don't care to be honest."

Louis gasped, clutching one hand to his chest. "Harold. What happened to the days where we fought to pick the movie? You've changed."

Harry chuckled throatily. He leaned over and looked at the movie reviews on Louis' screen. He murmured, "Suicide Squad definitely. I heard Margot Robbie is great in it," with his lips pressed to the crown of Louis' head.

"Yeah, of course," Louis said, flipping the screen around. "Now." He pursed his lips, squinting a smile in the darkness. "Do you want to watch it at 9:30 or 10:30?"

Harry shook his head, his eyes slipping shut with his wide smile. His eyes readjusted to his own blinding screen, a new notification popping on his screen. He double clicked it and his eyes immediately scanned over the word document from Pratt Institute, only the highest achieving art institute in the state of New York.

His eyes bulged comically out of his head when he skimmed through the words, 'Congratulations! The Pratt Institute of New York is pleased to announce that Harry Styles has been accepted for enrollment in the class of 2020!'

The only sounds in the room was the clicking of Louis' fingernails and his careful sipping, a cup of hot tea cradled in his hands.

"Oh my god," he breathed shakily. He jumped up in bed, twisting his body around. "I got in!"

Louis eyed him from his place on the bed. He placed his cup on the bedside table, his eyebrow arched.

"What?" he asked.

"Lou, I got in!" Harry laughed manically then, his mouth curving into an open smile. He carded one hand through his tangled curls, flexing his bicep. He lowered his voice, shakily responding, "I applied to the Pratt Institute a few weeks ago, you know. I mean." He swallowed, grabbing Louis' hands in his. "I know I didn't tell you and I am so sorry for that, but after I never got a response from them I figured they didn't accept me. It didn't really matter if I told you or not because I didn't get in but now..." His cheeks started to hurt from how broad his smile was. "I got in," he whispered.

Louis' mouth opened and closed a few times. He squeezed his hands to let him know he was okay, even though he was dying inside. He thought thoroughly on what to say, careful with his words. His mind was like a whirring cotton candy machine.

"You always did say you love the arts," he said weakly.

"Oh, Lou!" Harry flung his arms around him, pressing his weight against him. Louis gripped him tightly, trying to hold on to him when he felt the world go dizzy. "You're the most supportive boyfriend ever," he whispered in his ear.

Louis nodded, his throat choked with dying words. He pulled away from him, pressing a steadying hand on his chest.

"I'm so happy for you Haz. Pratt Institute that's—That's really amazing, Harry."

"I know!" Harry said excitedly. He grabbed his laptop and started clicking away, his fingertips quickly pressing on the keys like a hurricane. He flipped the screen around. "Look! They even have a rec where they hold these hot yoga sessions. It's everything I was hoping for."

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