quixotic//l.s. au

two.

Harry truly, truly, truly did not want to storm down his stairs, did not want to march into Louis house, and did not want to listen his conscience when he came face to face with a drunken boy, who was a danger to himself, as well as everyone around him.

But, Louis' house's volume had reached a new extent of inconsiderate, and he just couldn't deal with it anymore.

"Fuck off, thanks," Harry scoffed at the first boy who decided to drape himself over Harry, practically spilling the entirety of his beverage on himself in the unwarranted grinding attempt.

"You're that quiet bender from year eleven, aren't you?" the boy slurred, completely ignoring Harry's disgusted request.

"Where's Louis?" Harry sighed, rolling his eyes at the reputation he must have around campus.

"Oh, no way does a sophomore like you have any chance," the teen laughed, shaking his head in amusement. "Try not to get your hopes too high, yeah?"

"Try not to get your dick up so quickly on a boy who finds you repulsive," Harry shot back, shoving the stumbling boy off of him, hardly aware of the few glances now glued to him.

"And I don't want Louis, I want to tell Louis to stop being such a selfish prick-"

"Oi, what's this I'm hearing?" Louis slurred, suddenly in between the pair. "Some kid has decided to come to my fooking party, loudly deny that I'm basically a living sex god, and starts trash tal-"

Louis halted his public appearance mid sentence, pausing in order to let out a loud, disgusting, drunken belch.

He earned a laugh from almost everyone surrounding, but Harry was one of the few who scrunched up their noses in preparation of vomiting.

Their attention was quickly shifted towards the sound of a fist slamming into another boy's face, the victim falling against a framed picture of Louis and his mother, shattering on the floor, barely audible over the sounds of everyone cheering.

Louis drowned another shot he had found on top of a nearby bookcase, rather than scream and stress about how his parents would react upon returning home tomorrow.

"Can I talk to you?" Harry yelled over the music, gulping involuntarily at the sight of an angry, confused Louis spinning on his heel at the sounds of Harry's voice.

Louis physically felt a heavy twinge of guilt fall into his stomach at the sight of the innocent boy.

"Fuck, Harry, you shouldn't even be here," Louis complained, pulling the younger boy by the wrist to a quieter corner, "You're too innocent, I-I can't have fun knowing you're being exposed to-"

"To your burnout posse?" Harry laughed, motioning towards an intimidating, tanned boy with black ink covering his visible bicep, coughing as he pulled a blunt away from his lips.

"Yeah," Louis nodded, shaking his head at the sight of one of his closest friends. "My fucking burnout group of so-called friends, who would practically jizz in their skinnies at the thought of ruining someone as innocent as-"

Harry was beginning to feel slightly offended.

"You don't even know me, Louis," Harry argued, irritated, "I'm not a fuckin child-"

"Harry, you were in here for what I'm guessing was an entire thirty seconds before you had a nineteen year old practically humping you-"

"I wouldn't have even needed to be here if you could just keep your fucking music at a reasonable-" Harry glared at the obviously annoyed boy, who was exhaling smoke rings directly into Harry's face as he spoke.