Eager to reach his families expectations, Louis lives a life of secrecy and denial. In one of the most respected households in Doncaster, there's no room for mistake.
But when Louis meets Harry styles in his first year of boarding school, it seems...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Song: Medicine by Daughter
With too many thoughts raking Louis mind and no noise to drown them out in the silence of the room, Louis took it upon himself to do a spot of cleaning whilst Harry was gone.
Usually this was Harry's job. The boy seemed to like spending his free time dusting the surfaces, organising his bookshelf and picking up random articles of clothing that Louis often left on the floor after getting changed. So Louis let him. He saw it as a win win situation anyway, Harry liked to clean; he didn't.
Though now there was nothing to do, nothing to distract himself from his inner conflict, and their room was an absolute mess. He realised this once he stood up from his desk, leaving the newly fixed poster in his draw, and saw how careless he had been over the past few days.
The wardrobe was wide open, clothes falling from their hangers and dangling to the floor. The drawers weren't able to close as Louis would normally shove his jeans and t-shirts into the small space without the energy to fold them. Hoodies and joggers were dotted around the room, and their laundry basket was in need of a trip to the washing machine.
His bed was unmade, and he noticed the once white sheets were now stained in certain places from the many times he had spilt his tea whilst settling down to sleep. He could never got to bed without a cuppa, and of course it had to be Yorkshire, he wouldn't drink any other kind.
His desk was unorganised, snack wrappers laying atop of it along with assignment briefs from weeks ago. Pens and pencils were scattered over his laptop from the time he had knocked the small pot over, and books were laying on the floor around his chair.
Harry's side of the room wasn't nearly as bad, as expected, however their items from the photography assignment were still out in the open. The makeup from Harry's sister sat on his bed, his camera laid atop of his vintage record player, Louis' Halloween props were falling out of the bag they had came in and there were drops of fake blood staining their rug.
He didn't know where to even start, but he sighed and decided not only would it take his mind off things, but it needed to be done. Harry would appreciate it too, and perhaps he could get a little praise for it.
He knew Harry kept all the cleaning supplies in the bathroom and decided to gather those first, only his positive attitude certainly declined once he saw that their bedroom wasn't the only place that needed cleaning.
He groaned and stepped over to the sink where fake blood was spattered all over, the deep red contrasting with the crisp white of the porcelain. He noticed some spots lingered on the mirror too, and a few drops had slipped down the cabinets.
Should've listened to Harry. Fake blood was a terrible idea.
He put his hands on his hips and groaned, closing his eyes before wiping his hair away from his forehead. He had been doing that a lot lately, and it only just hit him that he needed a haircut.
