Every year around Halloween, Harry's mum organises a Halloween party unlike any other Halloween party. Everyone in the fashion industry is invited, there are tables loaded with snacks and the best DJ's are up on stage as models, designers and other media figures dance on each other and hope to become the next big headline in tomorrow's paper. Gold diggers and fame whores.

His mum invites all models that have worked for her in the past year and each and every one of them get a dress, made by her, to resemble a famous character. There are Madhatters, Flintstones and basically anything you can think of remade into a big ballgown, each up to Cox Fashion standards. Nothing like the cheap costumes you see anywhere else this time of year.

Harry, as per usual, is bored again. He has chatted with enough models to last him a life time, had one too many drinks and lost his mother in the crowd a while ago. And to make everything better, the prince suit his mum designed for him fits a little snug and is starting to itch.

And it's almost like faith, how Louis always dissapears to brighten Harry's days in these moments.

The boy is in a green ballgown, floral details upon the bust of the dress and his hair a mess on top of his head. The most beautiful, soft looking mess ever if you ask Harry.

And the best yet, he is walking towards Harry, or well, he is probably just walking to the bar for a drink. He comes to a stop next to Harry, not noticing the guy yet, and orders himself a fruity cocktail.

"Is your name Twinkerbell? Cause you look like a fairy." Harry whispers in his ear, bursting out into loud, tipsy laughter when the words leave his mouth.

"Is that a pick up line, Styles?" Louis turns to him, a fond smile on his lips, making him even more attractive to the slightly drunk guy. "Not a good one at that."

"Sorry, Lou," Harry pouts, his hand reaching out to touch Louis' hair, "you just look so soft and pretty. Like a fairy."