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Louis pushes his glasses up while he stares down the red brick walls of his new prison: Holmes Chapel Comprehensive School and Sixth Form College. It doesn’t look much different from his old school in Doncaster. Same walls, same dress code, same stares.
Louis ignores the eyes on him and takes a moment to fortify his walls, the ones he spent all summer trying to build after what had happened in Doncaster. School may be the same here, filled with the same bullies that Louis faced back then, but Louis is a new person this year. He’s not going to let anyone see his weaknesses this time around. So, walls it is.
He stands straight, lifts his head high, and stalks into the building as if he owns the place, not sparing a single glance for anyone else. He’s here to learn, not make friends. One year left and he can put all of this behind him. Sixth form, the anxiety and bad memories, this entire town if need be. All of it can stay right here while Louis goes to Uni somewhere far away. Somewhere he can be who he is and not have to worry that people will take offence to it. One more year. He can survive without friends for that long.
***
“How was your first day, love?” Louis’ mum asks over dinner. Her eyes reflect worry back at him and he feels guilty when he sees it. She uprooted the entire family for him. Lottie and Fizzy probably won’t forgive him for a while but his mum will never blame him for it. Even though she couldn’t really afford the move.
“It was good,” he answers with a quick, insincere grin. In a way, it’s the truth. No one picked on him or tripped him or beat the shit out of him. No one talked to him at all but that was all Louis’ doing. He was as arrogant and unfriendly as possible, giving no room for anyone to even attempt to get close to him. He learned what he was supposed to learn in class and didn’t fear for his safety in the hallways, except for one small, terrifying incident that Louis quickly scurried away from before it could blossom into something worse. As lonely as it was, it was still an improvement from Doncaster. So what if he gets a reputation as a complete prick? It’s better than his last reputation.
She accepts his answer but he doesn’t miss the way her eyes linger on him for a few extra seconds, like she doesn’t entirely believe him. He lowers his head and looks at his food as he stabs it with his fork, inviting no further questions. Thankfully, Lottie speaks up, drawing the attention away from him.
Louis excuses himself to go do his homework as soon as possible and pretends to be in bed when his mum comes to check on him a few hours later. She thinks this move is going to be good for him and he doesn’t want to give her any reason to think differently. Even if he’s not entirely certain himself.
***
“Partner project!” Mr. Hanson, the English teacher, announces three weeks into term with ten minutes left to his class.
Louis grumbles along with everyone else. He works better alone. Plus, he hasn’t exactly been making friends these past few weeks, the way he puts off anyone who comes close to him.
“Abbott with Bailey, Branson with Connors,…”
Alphabetical then. Louis looks around, mentally trying to figure out who his partner will be. Either Elizabeth Tyson or…, shit. “Styles with Tomlinson.”
Louis groans inwardly. Good-looking, popular, football captain Harry fucking Styles. WHY can the universe never be on Louis’ side? And it doesn’t help when he looks over at Harry and sees that he’s just as annoyed, rolling his eyes to one of his friends before gathering his things to move and sit next to Louis.
Louis flashes him a sarcastic smile when Harry sits in the now vacated desk next to Louis’. Harry has no reaction, just turns to face the front, waiting for their assignment. Louis decides to do the same.
“I’m going to give each pair a famous literary quote,” Mr. Hanson explains once everyone is settled with their partner. “They all have a theme. I want you to take it and find three to five examples in other pieces of literature or by other literary figures, these can be spoken quotes as well. I want you to write an essay on why you think the theme presented in these quotes is or isn’t prevalent in literature today. And no, you can’t use the original work in your paper. It’s just a starting point. You have to find your own quotes to work off of.” More groans from the students that are less diligent in their work ethic. Mr. Hanson grins at the protests, getting way too much enjoyment out of assigning this. Louis has a theory that the man is a closet sadist.
Harry taps his foot on the floor and plays with his hair, chewing a piece of gum obnoxiously and looking for all the world like he’s not paying any attention to the teacher. Louis feels a flash of annoyance but, really, he expected to be doing all the work anyway so he’s not sure why he cares.
“You have three weeks to complete this assignment,” Mr. Hanson says as he walks around and drops folded scraps of paper on every other desk top. “That’s more than enough time. No extensions will be given. No excuses accepted.”
Louis hopes the scrap of paper will fall on his desk but alas, it’s dropped in front of Harry who snatches it up and unfolds it lazily. He glances at the paper, snorts, and tosses it onto Louis’ desk.
Louis sneers at Harry’s manners and picks up the paper to see what it says for himself.
"God has given you one face and you make yourself another." - Shakespeare, Hamlet
Louis scoffs too but he’d wager not for the same reason Harry has. It’s “…you make yourselves another” as Hamlet was speaking of the female gender as whole. Enlightened, he wasn’t. But Louis guesses the teacher probably changed the quote so that he didn’t have to clarify it. It’s easier this way than writing out the whole speech and this one quote getting lost in it. Still, the imprecision bothers Louis.
“I have football practice until five on Mondays and Wednesdays and every other weekday I work until eight unless I have a game,” Harry says and for a second Louis can’t fathom why Harry Styles is giving him his schedule.
“Okay?” Louis says slowly.
Harry looks at him as though he’s an idiot, which isn’t a look Louis gets often. “Soooo,” he draws out, “if you want to get together for this, we’ll probably have to do it at the weekend.”
“Oh,” Louis hums, surprised, to say the least. Is Harry actually offering to do some of the work? Louis sort of thought he’d just push everything off onto him and take half the credit. That’s what’s always happened to Louis on partner projects before. Of course, that was Doncaster. And Louis is different now. Maybe Harry assumes Louis wouldn’t let him get away with not doing any of the work. He sits a little taller in his seat at the thought of it. This new persona he’s trying to project is really working, it seems.
“Alright,” Louis agrees haughtily. “But we’ll have to do it at yours. My sisters would be all over us if we tried to go to my house.”
“Fine,” Harry agrees half-heartedly, gathering his books just as the bell goes, rising from his seat, and walking out the door without another word.
“Okay,” Louis says to no one, watching Harry’s back disappear into the mass of students in the hallway. “You can give me your address later.”
***
So the thing is, Harry and Louis have a bit of history going back to Louis’ first day at HCCS. Louis had bumped into Harry. It had been Louis’ fault entirely, he wasn’t watching where he was going. And when he’d felt hands on his arms, possibly to steady him, possibly to push him away, Louis had reacted.
“Don’t touch me!” He’d yelled, pulling himself out of Harry’s hold. It was a knee-jerk reaction, one that Louis had followed up by saying, “and watch where you’re going.” He’d walked away, his heart racing in his chest and hadn’t given Harry even a second to react himself.
Later he’d felt terrible about it, but it had solidified his reputation as the crazy, not-to-be-messed-with kid, which was much better than the weak kid, the easy target. So he’d let it stand. And Harry, along with everyone else had given him a wide berth.
Of course, this means that Louis is actually nervous about this project with Harry. He’s going a little crazy with it, wondering what’s going to happen, how they’ll get along. He hasn’t seen Harry bullying anyone, but he’s in the same type of crowd that had hounded Louis in Doncaster and it worries him to no end.
He’s kind of freaking out about it when Friday comes. He’d gotten Harry’s address at the end of class and having it has just set his nerves on edge even more. He wrings his hands as he walks home from school and his stomach hurts from all the anxiety.
From the corner of Louis’ eye there’s movement and he turns his head. And there, in a shop window, is a massive cage with nearly half a dozen kittens playing inside. He stops walking and just watches them for a minute. Feet propelling him forward without his say so, and he’s walking into the shop not even realizing that there’s a smile on his face until the cage is sitting there in front of him.
He kneels down and reaches for the closest one, a little orange tabby, and pets its head, scratching behind its tiny little ear until it’s purring at him.
Another approaches. This time a black one, with white ears and paws. It watches him petting the other tabby with its head tilted and then reaches out suddenly with one paw, pressing it on his hand, as though telling him to stop. So he moves his hand toward that one and it twists in a circle in order to keep it’s eyes on his hand. Louis stops and the kitten reaches out tentatively to bat at his fingers. Louis wiggles them, startling the little cutie and she falls back on her tiny rump in her haste to move away.
Louis giggles at the kitten, pressing the back of his free hand to his mouth in order to muffle the laugh.
From the back of the store, Harry watches with awe behind the counter as the arrogant prick from his English class plays with the baby kittens. And he wonders if maybe he’s seeing proof that Louis Tomlinson has a heart after all.
***
Harry opens the door on Saturday morning at the sound of the bell. There, on his front step, is Louis Tomlinson dressed in a black band t-shirt and dark jeans, a carefully scuffed pair of new Adidas on his feet and his hair scruffy looking and windswept. He looks really good actually, but he doesn’t seem entirely at ease. Like he’s wearing a costume instead of what he’s comfortable in. Harry takes this all in just slowly enough to bring a scowl to Louis’ face.
“Sorry, my bad,” Harry says when he realizes that he’s left Louis standing outside when he should be inviting him in. “Come in, Louis.”
Louis’ holding a couple of books under one arm and he moves to hold them in front of himself as he steps into the house.
“Do you want a drink or something before we get started?” Harry asks, trying not to be rude again.
“No thanks,” Louis answers briskly, not even taking a nosy peek at his surroundings. Right down to business then.
“C’mon,” Harry waves at him to follow him upstairs to his room. “We’re alone right now but my sister will be home soon and she’ll be a menace if we’re not behind a locked door.”
“Oh,” Louis says, following behind him closely. “You have a younger sister, too?”
“Ha!” Harry barks a sarcastic laugh. “Older actually, though you’d never guess,” he smiles at Louis.
Louis grins a little and looks down at his feet as he walks.
When they reach Harry’s room, he crosses over the threshold as Harry gestures Louis in front of him, and he sits in Harry’s desk chair, still holding his books in his lap like he’s afraid they’ll float away if he lets them go.
“What are those?” Harry asks, pointing to Louis’ books after he’s locked the door and bounced down onto his bed.
“Oh,” Louis pulls one of the books out and passes it over. Harry sees there’s a page marked when he opens it. “I think I found us a couple of example quotes?”
“’The mistake ninety-nine percent of humanity made, as far as Fats could see, was being ashamed of what they were; lying about it, trying to be somebody else.’” Harry reads aloud from the highlighted passage. He closes the book and looks at the cover. “The Casual Vacancy, by J.K Rowling?”
“Seemed appropriate,” Louis mutters, passing over the second book. This one is just a book of quotes. “I’m not as sure about this one, but I think it fits.”
“’Man is not what he thinks he is, he is what he hides.’” Harry reads. “André Malraux. Who is he?”
“French novelist,” Louis supplies succinctly, giving Harry nothing more to work with to build a conversation on.
Harry sighs and reaches under his bed, pulling out a box full of paperbacks. “I found one, too,” he says pulling out a book and passing it to Louis.
Louis looks at the cover, takes in the picture, reads the title and raises a brow. “A Most Dangerous Profession? An espionage romance? Really?”
Harry stares back at him, smirk tilting his lips. “I might be embarrassed about my reading habits, if you didn’t know exactly what it was without having to read the back of it.”
“Says the guy hiding romance novels under his bed,” Louis murmurs but Harry sees the way he flushes and it would be adorable if he weren’t such a jerk most of the time. “Is this it? Where the bookmark is?”
“Yeah,” Harry answers, watching Louis crack open the book to the correct page. “I highlighted it.”
“’You can get lost, pretending to be someone you’re not.’” Louis is quiet after he reads it, eyes staring at the page. Harry almost thinks he’s gotten it wrong somehow, until Louis lifts his head abruptly. “Do you always highlight your books or was this a special occasion?”
“Are you seriously going to give me a lecture on book etiquette now?” Harry asks, rolling his eyes and laying back on his bed.
“I’m just wondering because if that’s your usual, far be it for me to judge but if you just did it for this, it seems like such a waste, defacing a perfectly good book,” Louis rambles.
“Let’s just work on this stupid paper.”
“Fine,” Louis gives in with no fight whatsoever. It’s a little strange how one second he’s asking Harry personal stuff and the next he’s just accepting Harry’s avoidance. And the thing is, he almost seems relieved? But that can’t be right. Unless getting to actually know Harry is just something that’s beyond the realm of possibility for Louis. But then, maybe it is. For a second Harry had forgotten that he was working with a closed-off prick.
They work on the paper for a while and Harry’s surprised that Louis actually goes along with some of his ideas instead of just brushing them off.
“I think one more quote would really help to round this out,” Louis says when they get stuck.
Harry shrugs. He’s tired. Working with Louis is a little bit exhausting. “I don’t have any more ideas.”
Louis sighs and looks at his watch. “I have to get home. We’ll keep looking and let each other know if we find something.”
“Ok,” Harry agrees, ready for Louis to go home. He doesn’t mention the pet store because he’s pretty sure Louis wasn’t even aware of Harry’s presence, but he wonders about it for the rest of the weekend. How can this boy be the same person Harry saw in the shop just the other day? They seem like two entirely different people. And Harry wonders if maybe that’s why Harry’s quote made Louis go quiet for so long. If maybe Louis’ gotten a little bit lost, pretending to be someone he’s not.
***
At first, Louis is mostly still Louis in school, he doesn’t really treat Harry any differently now that they’re working together on this paper, except that he doesn’t ignore Harry’s existence entirely anymore. But in the afternoons, when Harry goes to work, Louis’ started arriving soon after. And there, with the kittens, he’s a different person entirely. Someone Harry thinks he’s actually beginning to like.
When he doesn’t have football practice, Harry watches Louis come in each afternoon and play with the kittens. He talks to them, asking them questions like they can actually give him answers, and revealing little bits of himself to them, and inadvertently, to Harry.
Louis never sees Harry. When he looks up, Harry quickly ducks behind the counter, and if there are customers while Louis is in, Harry lets his co-worker Janice take care of them. She doesn’t seem to care and Louis doesn’t seem bothered by her presence but Harry’s pretty sure Louis wouldn’t appreciate his. So, Harry sticks to his routine of quietly watching Louis and doing very little else.
When he thinks no one’s watching, Louis is sweet and so very different from the person he pretends to be at school. Harry wonders why he does it. What is there to gain by being as unlikeable as possible? Harry tries to push those thoughts away when Louis is right there in front of him, batting playfully at kitten paws and letting out a melodious little giggle when they bat back. Because this Louis, this one Harry wants to know.
He’s started thinking of Louis as ‘Kitten’ in his head and he struggles sometimes not to say it when they’re in the library together looking for that one last elusive quote. They have a little over a week left to finish their paper and that’s plenty of time considering how much they’ve already gotten done, so Harry has no qualms about finding something wrong with every quote Louis finds in an effort to spend more time with him, to try and bring out the part of Louis that he sees all the time at the pet shop. He thinks it’s starting to work.
***
“What’s wrong with this one?” Louis complains when Harry turns down yet another quote that he could perfectly work into their paper.
Harry shrugs. “I just don’t think it fits.”
“Harry, it fits perfectly,” Louis sighs. He should use it no matter what Harry says. Then they could be finished with this stupid project and he wouldn’t have to spend his nights at the library not reading everything in the YA supernatural romance section. But he knows he won’t. Even if Harry discards everything Louis comes up with right up until their deadline. Because it’s kind of nice hanging out with someone even if they’re not ‘hanging out’ exactly. Louis craves the companionship. He doesn’t know what he was thinking proclaiming to himself that he didn’t need friends. He does. He’s so very lonely.
“I mean, you can use it, if you want our paper to be mediocre,” Harry tosses out carelessly, still flipping through the pages of another promising book. Louis sees it when Harry glances at him from the corner of his eye and he knows what Harry’s doing. He’d picked up almost immediately on Louis’ need for perfection, and Louis thinks he’s probably doing it to get on his nerves. It’s not entirely working. Because Louis has a hard time thinking badly of people he likes. And for some god-awful reason, he’s started to like Harry. Not like like him. Well… yeah, that too, but he still tries to lie to himself about that bit.
Louis sighs and slams the book closed, pushing it away from himself and reaching for another. Harry grins next to him and Louis bites his cheek so that he won’t grin back. It’s a reflexive thing and he hates that Harry has that power over him. Fuck, he has so much power over Louis already and all he has is a stupid crush that will never amount to anything more.
“What about you?” Louis asks. “Have you found anything?”
“Nope,” he answers, flipping another page and continuing on in a conversational tone, “So, are you going to the game tomorrow?”
Is it almost Friday already, Louis wonders. “Probably not,” he answers honestly. What would Louis do at a football game? He’d have no one to sit with, no one to talk to.
“You should come,” Harry nudges, still not looking at Louis and Louis wonders why he would even say that. It’s not like they’re actually friends. But maybe Harry wants to be. He shakes that thought away pretty quickly. Why would Harry Styles possibly want to be friends with him? In what universe is that even remotely possible? Louis’ done nothing but be an arse to him since the day they met.
“Why?” Louis asks, suspicion burning in his throat.
“I dunno,” Harry says hanging his head a little more and this time Louis doesn’t think it’s because he’s reading. “You could cheer me on.”
Louis scoffs. “I’m sure you have plenty of cheerleaders, Mr. MVP,” he states sarcastically. “You don’t need me there.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Harry agrees in a defeated tone, closing his book with a slam and pushing it away to stand and pull on his knapsack. “Goodnight, Louis.”
As he watches the other boy’s abrupt departure, Louis gets the unsettling impression that he’s somehow hurt Harry’s feelings. And that doesn’t sit right with him at all.
***
Louis must be an idiot.
That’s the only excuse for why he’s sitting on the bleachers after school on a Friday afternoon, watching Harry Styles run back and forth on the football pitch. There are other players, of course, but Harry’s the only one Louis cares about. And that’s the problem, isn’t it? Louis’ come to care about him.
Fuck.
He spends the whole game watching Harry, hoping he’ll look up into the stands and see Louis sitting there like a damn fool. To see that Louis regrets what he said in the library.
He never does. He doesn’t expect Louis to be there because Louis had basically told him that he didn’t care. Which is a bigger lie than even Louis expected.
He stays the whole game, just in case, watching Harry score for their team and assist in another goal, smiling at his teammates and his friends in the crowd and never once noticing that Louis is sitting there too.
It hurts more than Louis will ever admit, having that promise of something close to friendship, only to realize that he’s quite possibly ruined it.
When the game is over, Louis sits there, waiting out the crowd. He’d be fine to leave, he doesn’t have to get out of the packed car park since he walked here. And he’s not waiting for Harry. There would be no point, he thinks. Maybe it’s just his inner masochist, making him wallow in the ‘almost’ of it all. He almost had a friend. He almost did something right. He almost felt human again.
When the crowd is long gone and probably the players too, Louis rises from his seat and slowly starts to make his way home. He’s so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice the lone player who exits the locker room, doesn’t see the way he stills at the sight of Louis at his game. And Louis definitely doesn’t notice the bright smile that takes over his face.
***
“Hey, Lou,” Harry says as he sits next to Louis in English, casually tossing his knapsack on the floor next to his desk.
The greeting is so unexpected that Louis double-takes. “Uh, hi…Harry,” he finally responds.
“So,” Harry turns his whole body to face Louis, a smug grin already in place. “You came to my game.”
“Oh,” Louis starts, looking down at the notebook on his desk for something else to focus on than the stare Harry’s directed at him. “Yeah. I just figured… you know, in case your other cheerleaders called in sick or something, I should uh, be there as back up.” He glances over at Harry and what he finds is just a little bit amazing.
Harry is smiling at him. Not down at his desk, not at the floor. Directly at Louis. It’s not a smirk or a mere quirk of the lips. It’s a full tilt, life-ruining, dimple-popping smile. And it’s a little bit overwhelming in the best possible way.
“I knew you had a heart,” Harry tells him, eyes crinkling at the corners.
It shouldn’t be such a devastating statement, but it absolutely is. Because it means that Harry has somehow seen past Louis’ walls. He’s seen some glimpse of what Louis’ been trying to hide for months. And it’s just hit Louis that he wants to let him see more. He wants to let Harry see everything. He knows he can’t do that. It would absolutely be his undoing, he knows that. But at the moment he almost doesn’t care. He turns his eyes back to his notebook, silently begging his heart not to beat out of his chest at the sudden awareness of his feelings.
“Hey,” Harry calls for his attention again and Louis turns to him. He always will, he’s afraid, give Harry his attention. He might even give Harry whatever he wants, given time. And that’s a dangerous thought to have. “Practice is cancelled today because of the rain, so I picked up an extra shift at work,” Harry tells him, leaning over to speak in a loud whisper because class has officially started by now. “Want to come keep me company?”
Louis turns his head and looks at him, takes in his eagerness to have Louis tag along. He should say no. If he wants to continue this stupid charade where he pretends he doesn’t feel things to keep himself from getting hurt, he should definitely say no. He shouldn’t be spending even more time with the boy that might be making him feel too much.
“Okay,” he answers automatically.
Harry flashes that smile at him again. “You won’t regret it.”
***
Harry meets Louis next to the library about ten minutes after school lets out. He’s changed out of his uniform and into something more casual for work, but Louis remains in his blazer and trousers. He looks good, looser somehow than he does during the average day walking the halls of HCCS.
“So, where do you work?” Louis tries to make conversation as they walk but Harry knows he can’t tell him yet. Louis will get the wrong idea and back out. He’s got a better chance of Louis sticking around if he can get him as close to the pet shop as possible, he thinks.
“It’s not too far,” Harry answers vaguely. But when they get close and he notices Louis’ steps gradually slowing, Harry can only hope that he wasn’t lying back in English. That Louis won’t regret this when he realizes that his sanctuary has been invaded by an interloper. One that’s actually been there the whole time.
“Here?” Louis squeaks out. If he didn’t seem so panicked, Harry would find it cute. “This is where you work.”
“Yeah,” Harry answers, suddenly unsure of his plan.
Louis stops walking altogether, standing there on the sidewalk with tense shoulders and such anger in his gaze. “What is this, Harry? What, you’ve seen me in there and now that you’ve tricked me into thinking you might want to be friends, you’re going to have a laugh at my expense?”
“No,” Harry shakes his head, reaching out as he takes a step forward but stopping when Louis takes a step back. “Louis, I-”
But Louis, shaking his head, cuts Harry off. “I don’t need this.” He tries to turn, to storm off but Harry takes those final steps and stops him, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around.
“Will you please just come inside and let me explain?” Harry asks, holding him in place.
Louis glares at him, fire burning in his eyes. “If this is a trick-”
“It’s not,” Harry immediately assures him. “I promise. Just, please.”
Louis looks down, sighs, and finally nods his acquiescence. Harry doesn’t trust it completely though, so he guides Louis into the shop with a hand to the small of his back, not giving him a chance to sneak away and run before Harry’s had his say.
“Just give me a second to clock in, okay?” He says in a rush, hurrying to the back of the shop to do just that. He’s not as worried about Louis leaving now that he’s inside, left in the attentive care of his little playmates, but Harry doesn’t want to risk it either.
When he gets back, Louis is right where he left him, leaning down in front of the kitten cage, poking his fingers through the bars to scratch behind the ear of the tiny, gray one.
“You’ve been here,” Louis says, apparently hearing Harry’s return because he doesn’t turn around. “This whole time, you’ve been here watching me, haven’t you?”
Harry shrugs even though he knows Louis can’t see it. When he puts it like that, it sounds a bit creepy. “Sort of,” he says. “I wasn’t always here.”
“Right,” Louis nods to himself. “Football practice.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I have a fondness for them, too,” Harry tells Louis, moving to sit on the floor next to him. “I’ve even named them. Not- not out loud, because I don’t want them to be confused when someone takes them home, but… in my head.”
“Who’s this, then?” Louis asks, nodding to the gray one he’s petting.
“Dusty,” Harry answers, reaching out to pet the orange tabby. “And this one’s Archie.”
“And those?” Louis asks, pointing to two of the kittens that are trying to chew on each other’s ears.
“Oh, those are Betty and Veronica.” Harry leans closer, like he’s going to share a secret and stage-whispers “Always fighting over Archie.”
Louis grins. “And is that one Jughead?” He asks, pointing to the black one with white ears and paws.
Harry scoffs. “That’s Reggie.”
Louis turns to him with a raised brow. “You do realize she’s a girl, right?”
“Um, of course I do,” Harry tells him, turning to the kittens and pointing to Louis with a thumb. “Can you believe this guy?” He asks them before turning back to Louis with the look of someone who knows it all. He imagines Louis is familiar with this look. He certainly uses it himself quite often. “Reggie is short for Regina.”
Harry thinks for a moment that Louis looks hopelessly endeared before the walls come back up and Harry can’t get a read on him anymore. “You don’t have to feel embarrassed about it. I think a majority of the world’s population probably has a soft spot for kittens,” he says, trying to bring back the other Louis. The soft one, the one he thinks he might really like.
Unfortunately, his words seem to have the opposite effect from what he was intending and Louis stands up, dusting off his trousers as he informs Harry that, “I’m not embarrassed about them,” and moves further back into the store. Further away from Harry.
“Well, then what is it?” Harry asks, scrambling up from the floor to follow him, kittens mewling behind him at his sudden departure.
“I’m not-“ Louis stops, spinning on Harry but seeming to search for the right words. “I’m not good at this, this social interaction thing.”
Harry chuckles putting a hand on Louis’ bicep to help settle him, “You’re doing fine, Louis.”
“No, I-” Louis shrugs off Harry’s hand and turns to face the counter. The one Harry should probably be behind anyway. So Harry steps behind it, standing in front of Louis and waiting.
And waiting. But no words seem to be forthcoming. So Harry decides that he’ll have to be the one to lead the conversation.
“What’s going on here, Louis?” He asks delicately. “Because the boy I see here in the afternoons, he’s not the same guy that I see at school. He’s sweet, vulnerable. Doesn’t seem to care what anyone else thinks besides a few kittens who I’m pretty sure adore him.”
“I can’t be him at school, Harry,” Louis shakes his head, still looking at the counter. “I can’t be open and vulnerable. I’ve already got two strikes against me,” Louis counts them off on his fingers. “I’m short, and I’m smart, and where I come from those two things alone are dangerous qualities to have. Do you know what you are when you’re short and smart and sweet, Harry?” Louis asks, voice filled with conviction.
Harry takes a moment to look Louis over and thinks about it. Louis has always been short and, from what he’s seen in the past, incredibly smart, but the last few weeks, when Harry’s caught glimpses of Louis playing with the kittens at the front of the store, he’s been playful and vulnerable and actually sort of… “Hot?” Harry asks, because that’s the conclusion he’s come to. Louis is infinitely more attractive when he’s not being a total dick.
Louis’ reaction is not at all what Harry expected. He bites down on his cheek immediately, obviously trying not to smile at Harry’s conclusion and rolls his eyes to make up for the fact that he can’t scowl. “Doomed, Harry. Doomed, is what you are. Because if people think you’re weak in any way, they’ll exploit it.”
“This is college, Louis,” Harry drawls, unbelieving. “Not a corporate takeover.”
“Says the gorgeous, popular footie player,” Louis retorts. “If this was a corporate takeover, guess which side you’d be on?”
Harry has no idea what Louis’ just said because he’s stuck on one very important fact. Smirk sliding into place, he leans over the counter resting his cheek in his hand. “You think I’m gorgeous?” He asks.
“Wha-“ Louis sputters, before seeming to get ahold of himself though Harry can still see a blush slowly spreading over his cheeks. “That’s not important. The fact is, Harry, that you’re part of the crowd that would tear me to pieces if I wasn’t the way I am, so you don’t get to judge me for it.”
Harry sighs. “I’m obviously not,” he argues lazily. “I mean, I’ve been watching you play with those kittens for weeks now and I haven’t told anyone or picked on you about your choice of afterschool hobby. I think it’s cute, and personally, I like you better for it…, Kitten.”
Louis shoulders tense at the sudden nickname. “You realize that you just said you weren’t going to make fun of me, and then turned around and did exactly that, right?”
Harry smirks again. “You really aren’t used to this social interaction thing, are you?” The words come blithely. “That was flirting, sweetheart,” he corrects with a wink.
Louis chuckles to himself but it’s not a pleasant laugh, “You’re impossible.”
#*#
This is all a bit ridiculous and Louis regrets ever coming into this stupid shop. How could he ever expect Harry of all people to relate to what he’s been through? Harry’s probably never been made fun of in his life, with the obvious exception of his sister. But that’s just what siblings do. It’s nothing like getting your arse kicked at school for being “too twinky” or for screwing up the grading curve again.
Fuck, this is not what Louis needs right now.
It’s definitely something he’s fantasized about, Harry thinking he’s worth something, wanting to spend time with him, maybe even liking him, but it’s not something he’d ever thought could actually happen even when he was yearning for it. And that was what had made it safe. Louis can fantasize about boys like Harry but just imagine what would happen if the people he’s been trying to avoid confrontation with at school found out that Louis was gay on top of everything else. He doesn’t think his armour of attitude and indifference would hold up then.
“What? What did I do now?” Harry asks, voice rising in pitch at his incredulity as he stands to his full height while Louis turns his back on him. “Louis!” he calls, but Louis is too busy making a quick getaway to acknowledge him.
“Louis!” Louis hears again as the door to the shop clangs shut behind him. He wonders if Harry would chase him if he didn’t have to work, if he would actually care enough to stop Louis from leaving. But then he pushes the thought aside because it doesn’t matter. Even if Harry actually likes him, Louis couldn’t do anything about it. Sure, Harry would be fine walking down the halls of their school holding hands with a boy. Beautiful people are allowed to have “quirks”. Nerds are taunted for them. And Louis definitely falls into the second category. He can’t afford to add to the list of things people hate him for. He’s already got two strikes. One more would destroy everything.
So Louis runs. And he doesn’t look back.
***
Harry keeps trying to talk to him in school but Louis ignores him. He’s also ignoring the paper they’re supposed to be finishing. Quotes about hiding who you are hitting too close to home for Louis’ liking. And every time he turns around, there’s Harry quietly pleading, “Talk to me, Kitten.” And casually ignoring Louis’ repeated demand of “Don’t call me that.”
“Kitten,” Harry’s low voice carries to Louis’ ears all too well in the crowded hallway at the end of the day while Louis buries his head in his locker and pretends not to notice. “Louis. Look, if you don’t like me that way, that’s fine. I’m sorry I tried to flirt with you,” Harry tries to assure him. “But don’t shut me out. Please? Not when we were just getting somewhere.”
Louis ignores him, shuffling the books in his locker in an attempt to keep himself from spinning around right then and there and agreeing to whatever Harry wants. Harry’s the perfect type of guy to draw Louis out from behind his walls but what is Louis supposed to do when it all inevitably goes wrong and he’s left, bleeding and broken? Mostly metaphorically, but possibly literally if someone doesn’t like the idea of him and Harry being together. He doesn’t think Harry would purposely hurt him, but what’s that thing that people always say? “The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.” Well, Louis’ been to Hell. And he’s really not fond of the idea of going back there. So he stays put until he hears the defeated exhale that means Harry has given up. And then he waits a few moments more before he turns around to check the hallway and finds it mostly empty.
Slamming his locker shut, Louis walks toward the library to immerse himself in some science fiction. He’d rather go see his kittens. He misses them terribly, but he knows he can’t go back to the pet shop. At least not today. Harry will get the wrong idea and think Louis is there to talk. And that’s the last thing Louis wants to do right now.
But tomorrow. Tomorrow Harry has football practice. Louis will go see his kittens then.
***
Except, it rains on Wednesday. Which means football practice will be cancelled. And Louis isn’t sure if Harry will go to the shop instead or not. So he goes to the library again because they have two days to finish their paper and Louis is still missing one quote.
“Missed you at the shop yesterday, Kitten.”
Louis jumps at the unexpected voice in his ear and spins around to find Harry standing behind him. Too close behind him. He turns back around and keeps looking for the book he was searching for on the shelf. “I don’t have the time. I have another project due,” he lies, adding his standard, “and don’t call me that,” as an afterthought.
“What’s the project?” Harry asks, shifting his knapsack on his shoulder. “Maybe I could help.”
Louis turns to him and raises a skeptical eyebrow. “You mean between football practice, work, and your active social life, you’re going to find time for little ol’ me?”
Harry sighs, looking up to the ceiling and Louis wonders if he’s praying for the strength to deal with the brat who used to come into his pet shop. He hopes so. If Harry goes back to thinking Louis’ an arrogant prick, then Louis has nothing to worry about. “Now who’s judging who?”
“Who’s judging whom,” Louis corrects softly, though Harry has a point. Louis does have a tendency to make snap judgements and run with them. But this isn’t about that. This about Louis not having to hide out in bathrooms so that he doesn’t get beaten up. This is about Louis not having to worry about his sisters getting picked on when people find out who their brother is. This is about safety. Mostly his, but also theirs. And maybe, just a tiny bit, Harry’s.
“Just go, Harry,” Louis murmurs sadly when Harry doesn’t say anything else, finally finding the book he needs and pulling it from the shelf.
“One day, Kitten, you’re gonna wish you’d let me in,” Harry says quietly, pushing his hair off his forehead. He stands there a few seconds longer but when Louis doesn’t acknowledge him, he reaches for Louis’ hand and pushes a crumpled piece of paper into it, and then turns and walks away –just as Louis requested –before Louis can read it.
Louis looks down at the paper in his hand, glancing back up at where Harry disappeared before allowing himself to open it with shaky fingers.
It’s a quote. The last one they need for their project, but it feels like more. It feels like Harry is calling Louis out.
"It's when you hide things that you choke on them." - Charles Bukowski
Louis blinks hard. Crumples the paper in his fist and leaves, leaving his book behind on the shelf.
***
Thursday, Louis gives in and goes to the pet shop.
It’s not for Harry. It’s absolutely not. In fact, he ignores Harry’s surprised stare and sits down in front of the kitten cage without a word to the other boy. He feels him at his back though, a few minutes later. And then sees him from the corner of his eye when he sits down on the floor next to Louis.
“They missed you,” Harry tells him, reaching out to run his fingers over the head of a kitten Louis doesn’t recognize. “Especially this one.”
“I don’t think I’ve met that one,” Louis states, eyeing the brown tabby as it turns to him and yawns adorably, flicking its ears when it’s done. “What’s his name?”
There a pause so long that Louis turns to Harry to ask again in case he somehow didn’t hear, but he finds the other boy already looking at him.
“Harry,” he answers, with a sad, little grin.
“Did you really name him after yourself?” Louis asks, skeptically.
“I didn’t name him,” Harry answers with a slow shake of his head, turning to nod at the little black kitten. “Reggie did. She said he reminded her of me because he was whining all over the place about missing someone.”
“Ohhh,” Louis hums in acceptance, biting his cheek. He will not find this endearing. “But I haven’t met that one, so he couldn’t have been missing me.”
“Oh but he was,” Harry argues. “See, he’s heard so many stories about this great ‘Louis’ character that the other kittens keep mentioning. How he was cute, and sweet, and how he lit up their entire day once he showed them what a great person he was. So, Harry here has been desperately wanting to meet you for himself.”
Louis laughs before he can catch himself. “You do talk some shit,” he tells Harry, still grinning. Person Harry, not Kitten Harry. His Harry.
“Whatever gets you smiling at me like that,” Harry says, gazing at Louis with admiration in his eyes and affection in his grin.
Louis looks back at the kittens because his heart suddenly feels like it will burst if he keeps looking at Harry while he’s watching Louis that way.
“Louis, whatever I did,” Harry says earnestly, while he’s got the chance. “If I made you uncomfortable, if I made you feel bad in any way. I’m sorry.”
God, why are his eyes watering right now? He sniffs and tries to wipe at them discretely. “It’s not you, Harry. I like you, I really do,” He finally admits. “It’s – I’m just scared. That’s why I don’t- why I can’t let anyone get too close. Because last time I let someone in, they betrayed me. And it got me and my family hurt.”
“Louis,” Harry breathes, pain in his eyes at Louis’ admission. He gathers Louis in his arms and pulls him into his lap to hold him. And Louis goes. He lets Harry crush him to his chest, relishes the feel of affectionate human contact as he sobs into Harry’s shoulder and spills the whole story. How he’d never been popular but he’d been mostly accepted. How he’d liked someone, trusted them, and they’d promised him that he could. But then they’d turned around and stabbed him in the back, turning into the worst of his bullies.
Harry murmurs sweet things into Louis’ hair, things about protecting him and never letting anyone hurt him again. Louis knows it’s unlikely that Harry will be able to make good on 100% of his promises, but it’s still nice to hear.
“I’m so sorry,” Harry whispers again, moving to kiss Louis’ temple. “I’m so sorry that happened, Lou.”
“It’s over now,” Louis says though he’s not sure if it’s to convince Harry or to remind himself. “It’s over.”
Harry pulls back to look at Louis. “No, Kitten,” he begs to differ. “If you’re still feeling too threatened to be yourself, it’s not over.”
“I was,” Louis says, staring into those sad, loving eyes that gaze back at him. “I still am, a little. But, I think maybe, I might be okay if I had someone on my side.”
“You do,” Harry promises, raising a hand to cup his cheek and swipe at a tear with his thumb. “You absolutely do.”
Louis breathes, and it feels like it’s the first good, deep breath he’s taken in a while. He leans his forehead against Harry’s. “Thank you, Harry. For everything.”
“Anytime, Kitten,” Harry answers with a smile.
“Are you ever going to stop calling me that?” Louis asks lightly with a sniffle.
“Not a chance.”
“Good,” Louis answers, leaning in and brushing his lips against Harry’s. “I kind of like it.”
Harry grins against his lips before kissing him in earnest. And when he pulls back, he smiles with the brilliance of a thousand suns. “I know.”
***
On Monday morning, they walk into school together holding hands. And maybe it’s because of Harry, who stares down anyone he thinks is even looking at Louis funny, but no one says a single word about it.
So, in the end, Louis decides that the road to hell may be paved with good intentions, but as long as he’s got a kitten-toting angel to help guide his way (and he does), he’s going to be purrrrr-fectly fine.