Chapter Text
The ambassador calls early in the morning. It's Mr. Styles who answers with a polite greeting which isn't heard from the living room but probably sounds like 'Good morning, Des Styles speaking' or 'You're speaking to Des Styles, how can I help you this morning?'. Because Des Styles is a polite man. Truly. An ideal father figure who is good to every person. And after he finishes the call with an "Okay, thank you. Take care now", walking into the living room to join his family again, he sits down with a smile.
"That was the ambassador." He continued smiling. And opened the computer which he had brought with him after the phone call. It was black and worn but worked fine all the same.
"Really," Mrs. Styles said, "what was the reason?" She started fidgeting excitedly with her skirt, something that you might expect a five-year-old to do when they hear they're going to the candy store.
"I think you know, Anne." Des smiled and then looked over to his son who was patiently waiting on the couch "We've got our student for this year." He informed, and in response the son, Harry, sat a little straighter and jumped closer to get a view of the computer screen. "She said that a photo of him was sent to my email so let's check."
Des typed a few times on the very much used keyboard and then let out a little "Ah", as he saw the email popping up. "Here it is, I'll open it." He clicked on the email and scrolled down to the linked file. With a double-click it opened and the picture was displayed. "His name is Louis Tomlinson, she said, from Amsterdam." He made the picture bigger so everyone could see.
"He looks nice," Anne said, and to be fair, it was an understatement. This guy had a burberry shirt with a navy blue sweater on top. Light sunglasses sat low on his very perfect nose and his blue eyes smiled at the camera. He looked good, but there was something that stood out, according to Harry.
"He's leaning against a Porsche…" He stated.
"It looks like it, yes. But you have to understand that most students we have, come from very wealthy families. To be able to afford something like this..." Des explained and Harry nodded in comprehension. But he had decided. He didn't like the bloke. He was too much, probably arrogant by the looks of it. And the name: Louis. Sounds very posh, like a butler or something.
This could cause a problem. Harry had to live with this person for eleven months. And deciding he didn't like him could seriously complicate things… but what else was there to do really? You like who you like, and you dislike who you dislike. That's just how it is.
He'd just have to enjoy the last month of space and silence before this "golden boy" comes into his life.
He couldn't tell his parents though, they did this partly for him because he never got to have any siblings even though he really wished for it, and he was so very grateful that they wanted to make him happy. So he smiled and nodded to his mothers words "I agree though, he looks nice". To that, Mr. and Mrs. Styles smiled and patted him on the back.
"We'll get everything ready this last month before he arrives," Anne said. "Could you help us as usual?" She asked Harry.
He nodded. "Of course."
**
The month passed quicker than Harry would have preferred. There was a lot to do, so the 'space' he thought he'd have wasn't really there, but it didn't matter. He saw how his parents’ eyes were glinting with excitement as the days got closer. 9th of August. That was the date he'd have a new ‘brother’.
The things they had to fix were actually not supposed to be more than a welcome plan, a SIM-card and a room. But his mother always went a bit over the top. Which was always appreciated by the students, but a pain in the back for Harry and Des.
That day, 5th of August, Harry had been sent to the 'homestore' to get some furnishings for the guy's room. He'd only been informed of two things. He liked football and pale colours, preferably white, beige or really light blue. So walking through the store he felt confused…
He tried to think logically, the boy was around his age, just one year older. What would a nineteen year old want for a room…Because even if Harry decidedly didn't like the guy, he still wanted him to feel comfortable in their home, because technically it was his home too. Harry frowned at the thought.
He stumbled across some sheets in the 'bedroom' section and thought they looked nice. They were white with grey lines forming hexagons all over, making it look like a white honeycomb. He grabbed it and put it in the cart along with some silver blue design pillows. This was difficult. He didn't know the guy and now he had to fix his room... He decided to only get the sheets and pillows and later, if necessary, go shopping with the guy himself.
He paid for the stuff and shoved it into the car and started driving home when he got a call from Anne. He connected the call to the car and pressed ‘answer’.
"Hi mom," He answered.
"Hi darling. I have a very important request for you. This is very bad timing, I get that, but Louis' plane has been movded to today and he'll be at the airport in five hours. There was some sort of problem with the original flight plan, and your father and I are caught up in work at home. I know this isn't what you had planned for the day, but could you please pick him up from the airport?" She spoke quickly, and Harry almost had to slow down just to concentrate on her words.
"Mom, slow down, it's okay." He laughed lightly and kind of wished he could give her a comforting hug or something because she sounded really stressed. "I'm ten minutes from home so I'll drop the stuff off and get the necessary papers, alright?"
"Thank you sweetie, you are a blessing," she said and hung up.
Harry let out a sigh, not being able to contain it after the call. This really was not what he had planned for today. And unluckily the plane wouldn't come directly to Manchester either so he had to drive to London and pick the guy up.
He parked the car clumsily on the sidewalk next to his house and took the things from the trunk. Anne stood in the doorway with a smile and an apron on.
"Are you baking?" Harry asked.
"No, I'm making dinner for tonight, it's one of those stews that have to cook for a while." She smiled brightly and it's honestly contagious so Harry couldn't help but smile too. "I'm so sorry for this, you are truly kind, Harry."
He gave her a hug and explained that it's okay, it's hard to plan for these things. Once in the house he put the sheets in the guest room upstairs, next to his own. Then he grabbed the file with important papers for the ambassadors to examine.
"I've talked with the ambassador, she knows you're the one picking him up."
"Great… I'll be on my way then." Harry took the keys once again and made his way out to the car, file in hand.
Maybe it's lucky after all, that the plane arrives in London. He would get some time to mentally prepare.
It was with fright however that the thought came to mind 'I have to drive four hours with him on our way back'. Shit. What were they supposed to do for FOUR HOURS. He might as well run off the road.
To make the thoughts disappear he turns on the radio, there's a song playing and he turns up the volume. Even though he doesn't know the song, he still vibes with it and by the last chorus he sort of knows the words.
The drive didn't take as long as he expected or hoped for. All too soon he pulled the car into the parking lot of the airport. Checking the time, 18:07, the flight would be there 19:00. He had time to grab a coffee at least.
Before leaving the car, Harry sent a text to Anne; 'at the airport, so far so good' and then he stepped out, closed the black shiny door and pressed the button on the keys and heard the familiar click of the lock.
To his delight, the nearest cafe was actually inside the airport. He ordered a standard espresso and sat down at one of the many simple tables spread around the cafe.
As he sipped his coffee, he couldn't help but drift off in thought about Louis Tomlinson. It now only occurred to him that he actually had no idea who this person was. Sure, he had seen that picture, but maybe it was just a wrongly accused prejudice that he was an arrogant and spoiled brat... yeah, probably. Now that he honestly thought about it, it seemed more likely that he could be very wrong, and he felt ashamed that he let himself judge the guy from just a picture.
He woke from the thought when the speakers called out "flight BA999 has arrived at gate 56". That was his flight, it was Louis' flight… Shit… where's the file? Hastily, Harry searched for it under his coat before he realised. The car. In a second he was rushing out of the little cafe and sprinting towards the parking lot.
How far away was it really? It seemed to have moved further away since he was there last time. After ten minutes of running he felt disoriented and cursed himself as he made his way over to a family at one of the small shops.
"I'm sorry to bother you," he panted, "do you know where the parking lot is?"
"Oh, no worries, it's right around that corner at the end of the hall." The mother of the family smiled and pointed in the direction that Harry had not planned on running in.
"Thank you so much. Have a great day," he said hurriedly and started sprinting again.
He made his way around the corner, and through the hallway. At the end there was an unfamiliar door but as he opened it, he stumbled into the parking lot... but at the wrong end.
He recognized the place now but sighed in irritation as he spotted his car at the other side, it wasn't far but to be fair, his legs were tired after sprinting like a mad man for ten minutes.
He tried his best to reach the car as fast as he could. Fumbling with the key and panting he got it open and saw the file laying on the passenger seat. He glared at it as if it could have done anything to prevent the situation, and then he took it and started sprinting again, almost forgetting to lock the car. His mind wasn't the most alert today.
He made his way to the gates. What was it again, gate 56..59..65?
He looked in panic at the different gates and then the board over them. It was giving him very much unnecessary information, until he found the one he was looking for 'Flight BA999. Amsterdam-London. Gate 56'.
Sighing in relief he walked over to the gate, not having any energy left for running.
He looked at his phone, '19: 17'. Shit.
Once he was where he was supposed to be, a woman approached him.
"Harry Styles?" She asked.
"That's right," Harry answered, a little out of breath.
"Good, come with me," she said and moved with him through the crowd of people hugging and greeting their friends and relatives.
"Wait... you don't need to see the files?" He asked.
"No, just an ID is enough." She smiled, and he wanted to jump in front of a plane. He had run through the whole airport in vain. Great.
As soon as they'd made it through the crowd, they were met by another woman.
"Harry Styles?" She asked, not to Harry but the other woman, her voice slightly clinging with an accent. The woman beside him nodded and ushered him forward.
"ID please," she asked, and he took it out and showed it to her. She smiled and nodded. "Thank you, you can follow me." She gave the ID back and walked through the gate, showing her own ID to the guard who nodded in return.
Inside the gate was only one person, it was safe to say that it was Louis Tomlinson. Surrounded by four bags and with sunglasses on, just like those in the photo. Harry put on a polite smile as they approached.
"Hello," Harry said as they made eye contact he reached his hand out intending to shake Louis'.
"Hi, what took you so long?" He said with a frown and took Harry's hand hesitantly.
"Sorry, I forgot the files in the car. Apparently they weren't even needed." He tried to laugh it off. "Dumb luck I guess."
"Or bad planning," Louis said with raised eyebrows and a smirk... So. Damn. Arrogant.
Harry didn't care about his earlier debate with himself to get to know this person. No. He was just like he thought. Arrogant and probably spoiled too.
"Sure," he said a little colder and grabbed one of Louis' bags, "are you ready to go?"
"I've been ready for twenty minutes," he laughed nonchalantly and took one of his bags as well, the ambassadors taking the other two.
They were very helpful, Harry found out that the one with an accent was also from Amsterdam and had followed Louis on the flight, the other one was his contact person while he was in England. They put the bags in the trunk of his car and said goodbye, leaving Harry with a list of contacts. He looked them over, too tired to actually focus on reading the names, and put them in the file as well.
"Home we go then." Harry opened the door to the driver's seat and put the belt on, waiting for Louis to get in before starting the engine.
Louis didn't say anything, just sat in the passenger seat as Harry backed out of the parking lot.
Harry was uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. It was silent, and not a pleasant silence. It was tense and raw. So he cleared his throat and proceeded to ask Louis a question. "I noticed you have no Dutch accent .. you sound rather English. How come?" He asked just as he pulled the car onto the highway.
"Ehm... have you ever studied the sociology of language?" He asked in return.
"Can't say I have," Harry answered with a hint of confusion in his tone.
"Okay, it's common knowledge really but I'll explain it to you." What the hell... really? Was that necessary? Did this guy even want to get along? "It basically tells the concept of speech and how flexibility of accents differ from individuals. To answer your question: individuals with higher IQ and good education have it easier to adapt to the sound of a language or accent,"he finished.
"So you're saying that you are one of these well educated individuals," Harry stated and might have slipped a bit of disbelief through his voice.
"Correct," Louis confirmed. "How about you?"
"Huh?"
Louis sighed "Would you say you're one of these well educated individuals yourself?"
"Ehm... I suppose I've never really thought about it… I might be, I guess, but I don't know."
"Okay... What do you study?" Louis asked.
"Marketing and music," Harry answered.
"Who the hell studies marketing along with music?" Louis frowned.
"I do," Harry said coldly. "What do you do then?"
"Finance and marketing, which actually complement each other."
"I can see why you need to study compliments," Harry said with a snort. Intending to end the conversation.
"Excuse me!?" Louis exclaimed in schock.
"Excuse unaccepted," Harry answered and turned on the radio. 'Here comes the sun' by The Beatles was playing and he hummed the lyrics.
"I don't like this music," Louis said.
"It's The Beatles," Harry told him in unbelief.
"I don't like boy bands, all they do is sing about non existing girls."
"This song isn't about girls."
"Whatever."
And that's how the ride went. No conversations except for the few snarky and sarcastic comments, questions and answers. It was fair to say that it was torture. Harry spent most of the four hours planning on how to get Louis back to Amsterdam. He came up with some ideas. 1: Treat him so badly that he'd be begging to go home. (simple but effective) 2: Contact one of the people on the list and ask them to take Louis back. (less simple and probably less effective. 3: Kill the bloke and send him home in a casket. (the least simple but extremely effective). It was at the third idea he actually started considering running off the road again. He looked slightly to his left where Louis was sitting and found him glaring.
"What?" Harry asked him, annoyed.
"You don't like me." It wasn't a question.
"Wow, your high IQ is showing." He sarcastically made a shocked expression.
"Why?" Louis ignored his mocking.
"In the short amount of time we've known each other you've been nothing but rude to me." Harry explained, eyes on the road because even though the thought of running off the road was very tempting, the thought of being home in a warm bed, instead of in a hospital, was even more so.
"You don't know me" was all he answered. No apology or excuse for his rudeness.
"Don't care to, either" was all he got back.
Finally, FINALLY. Harry pulled the car into the driveway. As he cut the engine and Louis was about to open the door, he caught his wrist.
"Look," he said. "I don't care that we obviously don't get along. When we're in front of the family we act nice, because otherwise they'll get anxious and we don't want that since they're doing this for me... us. So please, drop the arrogant, rude, rich guy attitude for a while."
Louis was quiet for a minute before nodding slowly. "Safe."
"Boys!" Anne stood once again in the doorway as Harry and Louis grabbed his bags "Welcome, Louis. We've been longing for you to get here."
"Thank you. I myself have been longing to get here too." He smiled brightly and accepted her embrace as soon as he put the bags down inside. Harry came afterwards with the last two bags and put them down next to the others with a sigh.
"I'm very grateful Harry, I really appreciate you taking the day to help us and Louis," Anne said and hugged her son too.
"Yes. I don't believe I actually thanked you properly." Pff, properly, not really. "Thank you for driving me mate," Louis said and clapped Harry on the back. Fake.
"My pleasure." He smiled in return. Fake.
"Look at you two. Already proper brothers, aren't ya?" Anne smiled brightly and Harry felt that maybe this wasn't so bad after all. He could easily get by, knowing that this made her happy.
"Hey guys. Welcome Louis." Des walked into the room. He hugged Louis, telling him in a warm and joking manner that handshakes were forbidden "I'll get these upstairs, get something to eat. I bet you're hungry after your trip." He grabbed the bags that Louis had carried and started going upstairs.
Louis thanked them once again and Anne showed him into the kitchen where the stew was still heating on the stove. She took two plates out and placed them on the pale wood table in the centre of the room. Harry helped her with the cutlery and drinking glasses before sitting down as she placed the stew on the table along with a ladle.
"This looks really good," Louis said with a hungry look.
"Indeed," Harry agreed.
"Thank you, I hope it tastes well. Me and Des are going to bed now but I'm sure Harry can help you settle, Louis. Right, Harry?" She smiled and kissed both of the boys on the cheek before making her way upstairs.
"Of course, good night." He nodded.
"Goodnight," Louis said as well.
When Anne was gone it was silent. Only the soft clinking of forks and knives against their plates could be heard. Harry tried to focus on the food to make the time pass faster but it was unsuccessful. After a while, Louis stood up and put his plate and cutlery and placed them in the dishwasher.
"D'you mind if I keep a glass of water in my room?" He asked.
Harry was quite stunned by the question and looked up with the mouth full of his last bite. He shook his head and swallowed. "Nah, that's fine."
"Great. The food was very good," he said and filled his glass with more water.
"Wow, a compliment, who would've thought?" Harry chuckled.
"Not directed to you though," Louis retorted.
"Oh, so it's personal?" Harry raised an eyebrow.
"I guess so," he said amused. "Are you gonna show me to my room or not?"
"Sure." Harry too put his plate, along with his glass, cutlery and the now empty stew pot in the dishwasher. Without looking to see if Louis was following him, he turned off the kitchen lamp and started going upstairs. He assumed that it was Louis' footsteps behind him since it was very unlikely someone else. Once they were upstairs he turned right into the hallway leading to his room, the guest-room and his bathroom. Lucky for him, his parents’ bedroom was on the left side of the staircase, along with their bathroom and his dad's office. He opened the guest-room door, turned on the light and ushered Louis inside.
"Here's your room. The toilet is there, -" He pointed to the door on one of the walls "-heads up, it's connected to both your room and mine so when you use it, make sure to lock both doors." He didn't wait for Louis to answer or even ask any questions before he closed the door in his face.
Harry sighed, this was going to be a long year.