They meet up and study French all throughout the week. On Friday they meet in the evening, and the library is completely empty, save for the librarian who makes easy conversation with Louis while Harry works on the sixth section of poetry.
Afterwards, Louis joins him at their usual table and Harry smiles at him easily.
"Hey, um, Lou?"
Louis doesn't want to answer to that but he does anyways, deciding to let the nickname slide. He's been doing that a lot lately. All week, maybe.
"Yeah?"
"My frat is having another movie night and I was wondering if you wanna come? I think Niall will be there."
A week ago Louis wouldn't hesitate at all to say hell no right to Harry's face. Today he tries to come up with a suitable excuse. He can't think of one.
"Um, okay."
"Really?" Harry looks very surprised. Like he was offering to be kind but expected Louis to say no.
"Yeah," Louis agrees, trying not to feel lame about not having any legitimate Friday night plans. Honestly, he was envisioning himself going back to his dorm and watching cheap indie films on his laptop until it was late enough to suitably fall asleep on a Friday night. It seems like that's not going to happen, unfortunately.
Harry tells him to come at eight o'clock, and that everyone's supposed to bring snacks but it's okay if Louis doesn't because he's coming on such short notice. Then they begin studying, and everything falls back into the norm of this week.
As Harry reads aloud much more fluently than on Monday, Louis nods along and corrects him when he messes up but mostly his mind wanders.
When he looks at Harry now he doesn't see the person everyone always says he is. All Louis sees, really, is the way Harry bites his thumbnail when he's deep in thought, or how he drums his fingertips on the table in silent rhythm as he reads. Or the way he repeats lines of poetry he really likes, which always end up being the sappy ones Louis likes too, though he has to pretend he doesn't like them because having the same favorite lines is just strange, and something that shouldn't happen. These are things Louis has never paid attention to before, so it's startling to notice them now.
In French, Louis asks Harry a few questions about what he just read, and has him respond verbally. Despite the fact that they're the only one's in the library and there's no one to disturb, they speak quietly, voices hushed and soft, just above a whisper. It feels strikingly intimate and Louis doesn't know how to make the sensation go away, nor does he know how to make it go away.
"Ça a été?" Harry inquires at the end, asking, How was that?
"Merveilleux," Louis responds honestly, "Bravo."
The way Harry beams at the praise is a little too much to handle.
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
Love Me Please (Larry Stylinson)
फैनफिक्शनLouis hates Harry, which is fine because he would really rather prefer to avoid him at all costs. The only problem? They're soulmates.
