Part Four:
Day Seven:
Harry spent the entire night replaying Louis’ proposal in his mind. A single night, in exchange for being left alone. The temptation was a dull ache, a promise of peace from a particularly irritating thorn in his side. He’d gladly trade a night of discomfort for permanent respite from the infuriatingly persistent Louis.
He strolled into Starbucks on a quiet Sunday morning, utterly unprepared for what awaited him. He hadn't even reached the counter when a hand, warm and surprisingly strong, gripped his arm, pulling him slightly off course.
“Hi curly,” Louis said, grinning, his eyes sparkling with a familiar, infuriating brightness.
“Oh, look… if it isn’t Peter Pan,” Harry groaned, rolling his eyes. “Don’t you have a life?”
“Not since I laid eyes on you,” Louis whispered, rising onto his toes, his voice a low murmur. “So… Harry.” He began, his grip tightening slightly. “Do you have an answer for me yet?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry attempted, trying to regain his stride.
Louis’ grip tightened, refusing to let him leave. “Don’t play dumb, princess. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
Harry wrenched his arm away, a flash of irritation crossing his face. “I said, don’t touch me.”
“Do you need me to remind you?”
Slowly, deliberately, Louis’ hand crept toward Harry’s jeans, tracing the outline of his bulge. He kept his gaze locked on Harry’s, a challenge in his eyes.
A low moan escaped Harry’s lips, a sound he hadn’t meant to make. He allowed Louis to clasp the fullness of his jeans, the contact sending a shiver down his spine.
“One night…” Louis whispered, his voice raspy against Harry’s ear.
Finally, Harry pulled away, feigning annoyance. “Don’t touch me, peasant.”
“Wow… peasant!” Louis tilted his head back, a genuine laugh bubbling from his lips. “A princess and a peasant… sounds hot.”
“You’re an idiot,” Harry snapped, turning toward the counter, ordering his usual vanilla latte.
Louis followed, his presence a constant, unwelcome weight.
“You know…” Harry turned slightly, addressing Louis. “I should file a restraining order against you.”
Louis smiled, his pearly teeth flashing. “Well… what are you waiting for then?”
Harry paused, studying the boy before him. He couldn't deny the pull of Louis’s attractiveness. His blue eyes seemed impossibly bright, his tanned arms straining against the fabric of his striped t-shirt. His hair was perfectly styled, a tousled quiff that defied gravity. Why did he have to be so infuriatingly good-looking, and yet… so utterly annoying?
“Harry…” Louis smirked, noticing his gaze. “Are you checking me out?”
Harry shook his head, trying to regain control of his thoughts. “No, of course not!”
“Are you sure?”
“Why would I check *you* out? You’re annoying and I can’t stand you,” Harry huffed, crossing his arms.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Louis giggled softly under his breath.
“Non-fat vanilla latte!” The barista shouted.
“I said I wasn’t checking you out! Get over yourself!” Harry strode toward the counter, retrieving his drink.
Louis trotted beside him, watching him sip the steaming liquid. “So… what’s your answer then?”
“About what?”
“My proposal, silly.” Louis smiled, exposing his teeth again.
“It’s a no.” Harry said, cocking his head to the side. “And it will always be a no.”
“Alright,” Louis shrugged, turning to leave. “I guess I’ll just have to try harder.”
“You might as well give it up, twink!” Harry shouted as Louis reached the door. “It’s never going to happen!”
“We’ll see.”
--
Day Eight:
The thought of Louis at Starbucks no longer caused Harry’s stomach to churn. It had become a routine, a predictable element in his daily life. He decided to play it cool, to act as indifferent as possible. Maybe if he didn’t react, Louis would lose interest and finally leave him alone.
Louis approached as usual, grinning from ear to ear.
“Hi Harold!” Louis shouted cheerfully.
“Hi,” Harry replied, his voice cold and flat.
“So… I have a present for you today.” Louis grabbed Harry’s arm, stopping him.
Harry turned toward him, his jaw tightening. “I don’t want a present from *you*.”
“Oh really?” Louis reached into his pocket, pulling out a small ring box.
Harry’s eyes widened at the sight.
Louis put it back in his pocket. “I guess you don’t want it, then.”
Harry paused, pointing to the pocket. “Did that say… Gucci?”
“It sure did.” Louis smirked. “I’ve been taking note of your style choices, and I’ve come to the conclusion that you only wear Gucci.”
“You would be correct.” Harry folded his arms, feigning disinterest. “I don’t even care anyway… you probably didn’t even get anything cool.”
“I guess you’ll never know.” Louis started walking away.
Harry hesitated, then jogged to catch up. “Umm… maybe just one little peek?”
“You want the present?”
“I um…” Harry stammered, his composure cracking.
“Tell me you want the present and it’s yours.” Louis grinned, his eyes twinkling.
“Just give me the present, Louis!” Harry shouted, his voice betraying his impatience. “This is stupid.”
“Say please.”
“Excuse me?”
Harry had never uttered the word “please” before. The unfamiliarity of it caught in his throat.
“I said…” Louis stepped closer, his face inches from Harry’s. “Say please, Princess.”
Harry stared deeply into Louis’ blue eyes, tracing the curve of his lips. He bit his lower lip, his breath catching in his chest.
“Say please…” Louis leaned in, his lips almost brushing Harry’s.
Harry’s lips trembled. “P-please…” He stammered, the word a mere whisper.
“Good boy.” Louis murmured, patting his shoulder. “Here’s your present.”
Louis handed him a silver Gucci box.
Harry snatched it from his hand, opening it slowly.
Inside, nestled on velvet, was a large gold ring with a ruby center. Harry had never seen anything so exquisite.
He wouldn’t admit it, not even to himself.
“It’s… ok I guess,” Harry mumbled, caressing the ring with his fingertips.
He closed the box, handing it back to Louis.
Louis chuckled softly, pushing the box back toward Harry. “It’s yours, curly. I got it for you.”
Harry held the box tightly in his hand.
“Umm… cool, I guess.” He shrugged, slipping the box into his pocket.
“There’s more where that came from, Harry. Just give me one night.”
A small smile tugged at Harry’s lips. He didn’t know what to say, what to do. He was utterly, irrevocably confused.
“See you tomorrow, Princess.” Louis smiled, waving goodbye as he exited the coffee shop.
As soon as Louis was gone, Harry pulled the ring box from his pocket, opening it again. He carefully removed the ring and slid it onto the pinky finger of his left hand.
“What have I gotten myself into?” Harry mumbled to himself, staring at the glittering ruby. He couldn't help but admire how it looked.