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Summary
Two years of working side by side with Harry fucking Styles, competing for every promotion, kissing the same corporate arses, sharing the same fucking cubicle. He was unbearable. Insufferable. And horrifyingly good at his job.
It was a nightmare. And now he was going to make them lose their case, their shared case, because he didn’t know how to dress appropriately for court. Judge Corden has a soft spot for Styles, Louis knows that, but there are limits to how far even perfect Mr. Styles can push it. His nails are painted a dark red that matches his suit, for Chrissakes. Ridiculous.
Louis smoothes down his (normal, regular) grey suit and makes sure his quiff is in place. Harry had followed him into the bathroom. He hadn’t even left a space between them at the urinal. The man is a miscreant.