⚤one

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part one

jesy sighs, for the eighth - she's counting - time and taps the tops of her boots on the tiles of louis' bedroom. "lou," she hums, tapping impatiently at the bathroom door, kicking dirty clothes away from her feet. "louis, c'mon, we're going to be late for school - again - if you don't hurry up!," she complains, picking up one of the shirts off the floor. "i thought this looked familiar!," she huffs, "louis, this is my shirt"

opening the door after a few quiet moments, louis steps out, and, as usual, a burst of sweet smelling air circles him, wafting around the room. "i couldn't get my hair to swirl right at first," he shrugs, snatching the shirt out of jesy's hands. "and you left this there, it's fair game. plus, it's really cool," he smiles, and she rolls her eyes.

crossing her arms, she follows him across the room. "are you planning to clothe yourself?," she asks, raising an eyebrow as he looks down at his bare, tan chest. he looks down at the shirt and grins, causing the ninth sigh to leave jesy's mouth. he jogs over to his wardrobe and pulls out a skin tight black shirt, wrestling it on over his hair.

tying jesy's red flannel around his lithe hips, he turns to her, lifting one foot up. "what do you think would go with this?," he asks her, and she groans, looking around the room, trying to look around the mess. "what about my black heels?," he asks, and she nods quickly. they're on a schedule here.

she nods in approval as he grabs the shoes from under his bed and shovels his feet into them, they go quite well with what he's wearing. "harry will love this getup, lou," jesy picks at him, knowing the distaste louis has for the boy.

louis shoves jesy by the shoulder as he grabs his book pouch and she squawks. "as if," he rolls his eyes, "that boy is a total hick"

that causes jesy to bubble in laughter as she fixes her hair from the disheveled state it settled in from louis' shove. "he's not a hick, dumbarse. he's just... he's into the simpler things. and i guess it makes him look dirty," she shrugs and louis scoffs, opening the door and stepping onto the porch, wincing as he realizes that it's rained.

he feels wicked jealous of jesy about right now. she only has a 6:30 class and she's out until 2:10.

at the sound of the professor's expo marker hitting the table across the room, he blinks out of his reservoir and licks his red painted lips, looking around to make sure nobody saw him zoned out. people pick on him quite enough as it is. professor terrance is still talking - about the wonders of the renaissance - and louis sighs. this is uni, they learned about the renaissance in grade nine.

so, that's how his class goes.

he has to constantly shove people away as they pull at his skirt or try to poke his red lips. they think louis is insecure and doesn't know who he is, that that will make him easy, but none of that is true. he is as muscular as any boy and he's very comfortable with who he is.

the boy beside him - column (???) - pokes him with the eraser part of his mechanical pencil and louis looks at him, a neutral expression on his face when he sees it's nobody bad. "yes...?," he whispers, not eager to get yelled at by professor terrance, who is, by the way, extremely loud.

"calum," says the boy with a chuckle, louis smiles at him. it's always nice to not be either ridiculed or molested. "do you have any lead my mate harry could borrow? he's being shy - hey don't slap!," calum says, scowling at the blushing boy on the other side of him. louis looks around the tan boy and barely makes eye contact with the boy before he looks away. harry styles, of course.

then, it strikes louis. is he looking away because he's disgusted with how louis is? probably. they've never properly spoken, and louis can't deny that he judges harry, though he's never outwardly said anything where it could get back to harry. and, in regards of being judged, it happens quite often, him getting picked on. it doesn't hurt any less no matter how much it happens. "um, sure," louis says, taking the eraser off his own pencil, giving calum a piece of lead from it, slowly.

with deft fingers, calum pricks the lead from it, and louis brings his arm back to himself. "thanks, dude," calum smiles, handing harry the piece of lead. louis smiles at him with his lips in a straight line.

he turns back to focus on the lesson. "no, problem," he says, putting the eraser back on the end of his pencil.

louis has to drag himself through his classes after that one. nothing out of the usual. he can make it through his 9 and 10 classes no problem, but he tires of it after 10. he sighs in relief as the final bell rings. it doesn't take long for him to get out of the room - he has all of his stuff loaded and ready to go.

what always happens to him happens, though.

everyone shoves him away from the door and a few touch his face just to be rude as they shove him away. he sighs and looks down, even the professor gets out before he does. but something happens to him that hasn't happened yet.

he rams face first into some hard-chested man, his head bowed still. they both fall down and louis' pretty sure his heel broke. "oops! i'm so sorry, miss!," says the man, rising up and stopping right in front of louis' face. it's hick-boy, harry styles, from second block. he blushes brighter than he did in class and louis can see him swallow. "o - or sir... what do you want me to call you?," he whispers, his eyes so wide.

louis scoffs. "hi, and, uh, well... i'm a boy, believe it or not. but most people call me louis... amongst other things... but i'd rather you just call me louis," he smiles, feeling kind of guilty for always being so rude to someone who seems as nice as harry is being, and harry laughs quietly, seemingly less nervous.

he suddenly rises his hand to touch louis' face and he flinches and closes his eyes, distasteful for people to touch his face now, after all of the manhandling. "well, louis, your lipstick is smeared. let me fix it?," he says calmly, and louis peeks one eye opened. he steadies himself from the knocked over position he's still in and sits on his calves, as to not flash the poor boy.

after a moment, he nods slowly and harry licks his thumb, bringing it back up to louis' face. louis blinks as his large finger swirls around his lips, not actually touching them, but cleaning him up. "thank you," he whispers, wonderstruck by the - strikingly, and surprisingly - handsome boy in front of him.

out of the blue, harry says, "you're very pretty," and both of their eyes widen in utter surprise at his loose tongue. louis' cheeks redden and he shakily, but quickly, stands up, smoothing his pants down quickly. it's black and dirt sticks to it.

"t-thank you, harry... i appreciate it very much 一 a lot. but i gotta go, my roommate is probably worried sick 一 oh god jesy is going to hammer me," louis stammers, his blood draining from his red face. he smiles at harry fleetingly and takes off at a jog, his heel definitely broken.

harry looks after him sadly. who is jesy?, he wonders jealously, he's probably his boyfriend... he sighs and slumps to the ground again, covering his face with his hands, the sound of louis' heels clicking the ground fading until it's silent.

these will be v short compared to my other story's chapter lengths (^ں^)

your lipstick stain is a work of art » stylinsonWhere stories live. Discover now