Harry: Hey Louis, it’s Harry. Louis: What’s up? Harry: On the second horror movie. It’s stupid, but I’m getting scared. Louis: Wish I could be there. There’s nothing to be scared of, though. Harry: You could have come. Louis: And resist urges all night? No thanks. Harry: What? Louis: Nothing. I’m bored. Louis: Can you tell I’m exhausted?
Harry: I can. Don’t send selfies – major blushing occurs and friends get nosey. Louis: Fine, have a picture from a recent shoot. Harry: Fuck. Louis: Hey, little boys shouldn’t curse. Harry: I’m not little. I’m the same size as you. Louis: Maybe physically, but you know I’m in charge. Harry: Says who? Louis: Thank god for backspaces. Anyways, where are my pictures back? Harry: Backspace? Just tell me! I don’t take many pictures. Louis: Why not? Harry: I’m not gorgeous like you. Louis: Funny. Harry: What’s funny? Louis: You’re more of a model than me, and I do it as my job. Harry: Fine, here.
Louis: Damn it. Louis: What’s with the blue all the time? Harry: It’s my favorite color. Why only black and white pictures? Louis: It works on me. Harry: So why are you texting me and not living life? Louis: Infatuation, I guess. I’m actually out. Trying to stop staring at your picture. Why are you texting me? Harry: What does ‘infatuation’ mean? + I know I look gross. Louis: Opposite, actually. Send me another. Harry: I took this one last week.
Louis: What’s in your mouth? Harry: A grill. I know I look gross. Louis: Cute. And another word I’m not allowed to say. Harry: Say it. Don’t be like that. Louis: Say what? That I’m 25? Harry: No, just forget that. Louis: I’m setting that as my wallpaper. Harry: No! Louis: Why? Harry: I’ll send you a better one. Plus, I want one for my background too. Louis: Thought you’d like this because I’m smiling.
Harry: Looking very kingly. Louis: Your turn. Harry:
Louis: Flawless angel. Harry: One more for good luck, please? Louis: Please who? Harry: Please, daddy. Louis: Fuck. Thought I’d get you to say Lou, but fuck. Louis: You better watch what you say to me, Harry, whatever your last name is. Harry: Styles. Louis:
Harry: You are so hot. Louis: Thank you, Sir Styles. Harry: Gross. Louis: What? Don’t like being a sir? Harry: You are the sir here. Louis: I know I’m old. Harry: Nope. I’m coming tomorrow, by the way. Louis: I’ll be sure of that ;) Harry: … Louis: Sorry. Harry: You can’t do that. Louis: I know I’m sorry. Harry: No, not that you can’t, but now I’ve got pillow to lap syndrome again. Louis: I just want you on my lap. Harry: Daddy stop. Louis: Harry, don’t call me that. Harry: Daddydaddydaddy. Louis: Come over tonight instead. This picture is bribery.
Harry: And what do I tell everyone? And awe, no scruff :( Don’t like that one. Louis: Stayed at a friend’s. Not me, though. And don’t worry, you’ll feel my scruff tonight. Harry: Our little secret? Louis: Yes.