There For You {Back For You - Prequel}

10 - Anchor

A/N - oh god this was rushed and I am so sorry, but I am retaking my science exam tomorrow and I had so much revision to do plus I was home late and oh god this AN will have to be short because I need to go to bed because otherwise imma fail again because I have to get up early tommorow as well oh god help me.

I hope you guys like this, it was rushed and for that im sorry, but I hope you still like itttttttttttttttttt!!! If you do, y'all know the drill and all the shindigs, comments/votes/followers are my favourites and you know I love to talk to you guys!!

I haven't done a CONTENT WARNING  for absolutely ages when i definately should have been (im so lazy oh god) but yeah, there is mild language in this, and references to sex.

LOVE YOU ALL MY SWEETUMS YO YO YO YO

Louis didn’t expect the walk to Niall’s to be as, well, lovely as it was. Really, Louis had expected it to be slightly awkward; filled with stunted conversations and the widest distances between himself and Harry on the pavements. The reality, however, was vastly different. It was brilliant, really, it was.

Once Jay was happy that Louis had enough money to buy a couple of coca-colas, Louis had waved her goodbye and led Harry down the front path with a relieved and highly embarrassed sigh.

“Niall’s is to the right.” Harry had pointed when Louis looked at him in question.

Louis had nodded, and fallen into step next to Harry as they walked, “So is this guy actually good, or are you just going ‘cuz he’s a mate.” Louis had asked, eyes locked on the way Harry’s hair swept up into probably the scruffiest quiff he had ever seen in his life.

Harry had glanced down at Louis and grinned, “He’s proper good; you’ll love ‘im. Promise.”

“I suppose he must be good,” Louis had said conversationally, a teasing glint in his eyes, “I mean, anyone less than perfect isn’t worthy of Mr Popular Styles – right?”

And the thing about that comment was, Louis wasn’t entirely joking. Louis had seen Harry around school before Harry had decided to talk to him, and he was never surrounded by anyone who wasn’t fair faced and blessed with a beautiful body; or by anyone who would attend a party of less the 200 attendees. And then, he spoke to Louis. It was so, not right, and Louis was counting down the seconds until Harry realised this, and kicked him off the pavement (not literally, because Harry was too nice for that) and carried on his life as the incredibly attractive social butterfly that he was.

Harry had snorted though, literally, and it was fucking adorable, “Right, yeah, sure.” Harry just looked down at Louis and shook his head in muffled laughter, “That’s why it’s you and me out on the open road, Tommo, Mr Popular Styles and my amigo Mr Perfect Tomtom.”

Louis flushed red hot, but it was camouflaged in the orange beam of the streetlamps – he was glad, “Aww, baby Styles can’t dampen the charm, can he?” Louis had said, laughing to hide the rising levels of excitement and oh god how in his bloodstream.

“First I am not a baby,” Harry laughed, “You can’t be that much older than me, we’re in the same year.”

“I’m sixty-nine years old, actually,” Louis said proudly, flexing his muscles to make Harry giggled (and it worked, by the way).

And Harry giggling was one of Louis’ new favourite things. When he giggled, he would throw his head back and let it bellow down the street in a way that still managed to remain delicate. His eyes would screw up, and his dark eyelashes would fan across his cheeks and cast shadows on his cheekbones, that Louis briefly imagined licking before he banished the thought to the very back of his imagination. Harry would also clench up his fingers into fists, and he had the most painfully endearing habit to catch the sleeve of Louis’ pastel violet jumper, and hold it to his abdomen as he giggled, it was like he used it as an anchor and Louis quite held precious the thought of being Harry’s anchor.