“Hey, Twirler!”
Louis stopped in his tracks. He knew that nickname—he had been hearing it for years. Only hockey players referred to figure skaters like that. Slowly, Louis spun around to face the person who had spoken.
Harry Styles stood just a few feet away, Niall and Liam in tow, and was staring at Louis like he was the funniest thing in the world.
“What?” Louis retorted, not in the mood to handle Harry.
“I’m just wondering if you always wear your jumper the wrong way or if it’s just a today thing.” Niall cracked up even though it wasn’t funny, but Liam just looked at Harry, annoyed.
Louis eyes flicked downward to assess his inside out top and then back up to lock onto Harry’s gaze. There were a variety of witty things that he could have said to him in that moment, but all of them paled in comparison to what he was actually going to do.
Without another thought, Louis gripped the hem of his jumper and yanked it over his head, revealing (since he had gone sans undershirt that day) his naked chest. Several of the students around him stopped and stared at the display—some even wolf-whistled. He ignored them all and proceeded to calmly fix the article of clothing and pull it back over his head the right way.
Only then did he bring his eyes back to rest on Harry Styles, who was staring at Louis with a mixture of shock and something that Louis couldn’t place, his eyes looking considerably darker.
“Better?” Louis asked brightly, smirking at the hockey players before turning on his heel and marching off to his next class. He didn’t care if the other students thought he was crazy or high; it felt good to stand up to Harry. More than that, it felt great to see the looks on those dumb jocks’ faces when he had ripped off his shirt. That would probably only add to the gay rumors that were already circulating about him, but he couldn’t care less.
Louis arrived at his class a moment later and took his seat, but meanwhile, Harry Styles was still standing exactly where Louis had left him. His mouth had gone inexplicably dry at the sight of Louis Tomlinson shirtless. That was something he had been dreaming of seeing for the past few weeks, and yet he had expected it actually happening in a way that was very different from how it had.
Nevertheless, it had happened. And all Harry could think was one word: damn.
HARRY'S GOT A CRUSH HEH.
He cannot pass by without touching and moving and shaping and changing every thing, every boy-city, in his path.
1 juni 2015 - 23:00
Ledecky