“Louis,” Harry sighs, shaking his head. “No.”
He’s trying to look stubborn, frowning so hard that he resembles a frog, but Louis can see his lips twitch, the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corners. He’s obviously charmed, even though he knows he shouldn’t be, and Louis, well. Louis is very good at charming him.
“Harry,” Louis mimics his sigh, pouting at him. “Why not?”
Harry’s lips break into a full blown grin momentarily, before he’s running his hand down his face, trying to school his expression into something more serious. He’s an open book, Harry is–with every thought etched into the lines of his face, the dimples on his cheeks.
“I don’t want to,” Harry says, and it sounds weak.
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missandrogyny: “Louis,” Harry sighs, shaking his head. “No.” He’s trying to look stubborn, frowning...
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