Where Harry drunkenly confesses to his crush Louis, the captain of the uni football team. Inspired by the song Gorgeous, by Taylor Swift. I loved writing this one like a lot lwwjhshrwm.

Hope you enjoy it!
Words: 1,464
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"No." Harry deadpanned.
"Harry Edward Styles you shut up and come to that party."
"But I don't want to Ni! What am I even gonna do there?"
"Have fun mate, live your life!" Niall insisted. He then realised something. "Louis is not coming to the party, don't worry."

Harry sighed and walked over to the wardrobe, picking out his clothes. Harry avoided his crush at all costs.

"How'd you know?" He mumbled as he picked out the same old skinny jeans.
"Bitch, I'm your best friend." It was Niall's turn to deadpan. Harry chuckled and quickly changed as Niall walked out of the room.

He had picked out a purple shirt with a black floral print. Pretty simple, kept the ladies at bay beacuse to Harry it emphasized his inner queer. And ofcourse, black jeans and Chelsea boots to tie it all together.

(A.N: the iconic 'Female, not that important' interview one, idfk shades of purple so bye-)

"Let's go then."
-
It was all Niall's fault, Harry didn't even want to drink that much in the first place!

But there he sat on the kitchen counter, knees pulled to his chest as he sipped on his second tequila.

After two beers and six shots of vodka.

He downed the whole glass, scrunching his nose before jumping off the counter and walking over to the other side to get vodka.

He carefully poured himself a shot, spilling a lot over the counter but not minding at all. After a satisfactory amount, he sat on the bar stool, staring at the glass.

"What are you havin' there?" He heard someone speak.

His eyes widened.

That's Louis, Lewis, Lou-Lou, Loubear, the hot footie caption, the one who has the best arse in the whole school, the one with the ocean blue eyes, the love of my life- Harry thought. He blinked twice before looking up.

He was met with the sight of blue eyes.

"You alright, love?"

Harry took in a deep breath and widened his eyes. Louis called him love.

Love. He called me love!

"Huh?"
"I asked what were you havin' there curly."
"Oh, vodka."
"Straight?"
Harry shot him an offended look, as though he were ready to slap Louis.
"No, gay!" He yelled with an angry frown.

Louis frowned too. He brought his glass forward and clinked it with Harry's.

"Me too." He whispered. Harry frowned, and then pouted.

Louis isn't straight, he had a girlfriend, elevator or whatever her name is.

"It's Eleanor, but she isn't my girlfriend, we're pretending to be dating ya'know, reputation and shit. She knows that too! She's got a girlfriend! Ava ya'know? The fit hockey girl. Her." Louis procceed to explain.

"Really?" Harry asked as he dunked ice cubes into his whiskey, but missing and dropping it on his thigh instead. They looked at eachother for a minute before Louis slowly started to move his hand up, looking at Harry to see if he was okay.

The further Louis' hand slid up,  darker Harry's cheeks flushed, Louis could make it out even though the room was dark.

"You dropped the cube." He murmured, breaking the silence between them and picking the ice cube up.
"Yeah." He whispered, looking away and leaning against the countertop, resting his head on top. Louis too, leaned backwards, resting his hand on top of Harry's.

"You can't be Louis." Harry said in awe, looking back and forth between Louis' face and their hands.
"But why?" Louis frowned.
"Let me tell you why." Harry said, shaking his head and dragging him to the balcony. Louis didn't hesitate in following him. There was a sofa, a single seater, in the balcony and Harry gulped as Louis slid the glass door shut.

"What's wrong curly?"
"There's only one sofa." Louis thought for a while, before replying:

"How about we both sit on the floor?"

Harry nods, taking the bottle of whiskey and the ice cubes from him before sitting down, cross legged in the dim light.

"So, his name is Louis Tomlinson. Louis William Tomlinson." Harry slowly began, pouring himself and Louis a glass. Louis nodded, asking him to continue.

"So, Louis, is the captain of the footie team. You must know that, you're in the same uni, aren't ya?" Louis nodded again, slowly sipping on his whiskey.

"Fit as fuck. I want him to fucking strangle me." Harry said with a straight face as Louis' eyes went wide.

"His hair is so feathery and he looks like a cute little hedgehog." Harry giggled. "Except when he like, styles it. And when he doesn't like shave for some days, his scruff, oh my goodness. Like, wreck me daddy, destroy me king." Harry babbled as Louis scratched his scruff and pulled his knees to his chest attempting to not get hard.

"But not just the fact that he looks like a masterpeice from a museum and is hot as fuck, he's the nicest person I've seen." Harry whispered, fond lacing his voice. "He's so kind and polite and is like so amazing. I accidentally heard him sing the other day y'know, he sounded like an actual angel." Harry mumbled.

"You heard me sing?"
"Not you dummy, Louis." Harry laughed. "You look a lot like him through." He said as he played with the ice cubes in the glass. Louis giggled and moved a little closer, sliding his ankle behind Harry's. Harry didn't move away from the touch.

"His ocean blue eyes." Harry continued, sighing dreamily. "We once caught eyes y'know, once. They're like so deep deep deep deep..." He trailed off. "Like, I think I might sink and drown and die in them."

A blush crept up Louis' neck and he smiled shyly.
"You think me eyes are pretty?"
"Louis'."
"Curly, I am Louis!" He whined.
"There's no way you're Louis!" Harry yelled, snatching the bottle from him.
"But why?!"
"I'll tell you why, huh?!"
"Yeah!"

Harry took in a deep breath.

"He has this girlfriend who looks like a fricking model, I'm a lanky guy who's extremely queer. He's probably not even into guys! I'm way out of his league, I've literally talked to him only once in like two years. Now which football jock would want a boyfriend who wears cherry lip balm and knickers on Sundays, huh?! I'm too weird! I want to marry him, have his babies, fuck biology, and he's so perfect why would he want to be with me who's so weird?! I'm not cute at all! And most importantly, he's probably the little spoon but I'm the little spoon too so we don't fit!" He yelled, bursting into tears.

Louis cooed and pulled him into his arms, Harry sobbing loudly into his chest.

"Darling, don't cry please." Louis cooed, gathering and cuddling Harry who was hiccuping.
"I-I-I try not to think of him cause I'm in love with that bitch. You know what? I hate him. He's so gorgeous, he makes me fucking mad. It should be illegal to be that gorgeous. Why do I hate him? Cause he'll never be mine!" He sobbed hysterically.

"Love, love, love, will you listen to me?" Louis asked.
"Y-yeah. 'M sorry I got snot on your t-shirt." He mumbled, hiccuping and wiping his face.
"Let's go inside, yeah?"
"'M too tired." Harry yawned, slumping on his shoulder.
"'C'mere." Louis said, picking Harry up with surprising ease and walking back inside and into a room.

"I am Louis, love. And I'm very much gay. And I think you're really cute and pretty, I've been seeing you for a few months now, ever since the winter fest performance. And I'm the big spoon, so we fit!" He explained softly. Harry blinked at him, shock written all over his face as he sank to the floor.

"You okay, babe?" Louis asked him, kneeling on the floor.
"What the fuck did I do?" Harry whispered as Louis moved closer to him.
"You just confessed you're head over heels for me Harold." Louis giggled.
"But- but you like me!" He exclaimed.
"Yeah love, I like you like a lot!" He exclaimed in the same tone, lacing their fingers together.

They sat in silence for a few seconds, which felt more like hours, staring at eachother as the music throbbed dimly in the background.

"Then kiss me you fool." Harry murmured and Louis wasted no time, crashing their lips together.

Heads spinning, eyes closed, they kissed with fevour, hands all over eachother, savouring the taste of the lips they had craved for so long.

"You're gorgeous."