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words from these inconvenient fireworks by MD & EDL.

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“And I just thought that was amazing.”


“Yeah! I’m really excited, it’s going to be great, I think.”


“I’m excited for Friday,” Harry says softly.


“I told you, it was just as much my fault as it was yours.”


“Let me take you home, Lou.” “Yes,” Louis says. “Please.”


Soon enough it’s Friday night, and he finds himself on the way to Harry’s house, hair coiffed and trousers recently ironed. Not that anything unusual is happening. They’re just going to hang out, like normal, but in another place. Definitely not a big deal.


Harry doesn’t have a classroom of his own; where would he be leaving his stuff if not Louis’ room?


Louis started keeping a spare key under the mat a few weeks ago, since rehearsals have started running later as it gets closer to opening night.


“Wherever I go, I tend to just pick stuff up and I just never throw it out,” Harry says, finishing up his elaborate plating. There's garnish. Louis may never recover from this. “I like being surrounded by memories. And, I don’t know, I’d feel guilty if I got rid of it now.”


“There’s not a vote,” Louis says. “This isn’t a democracy. This is a party dictatorship, and I am the dictator.”


Harry smiles into the kiss and pulls back slightly. “D’you still hate Valentine’s, Lou?” he breathes, rubbing his nose against Louis’. Louis grins. “Yes,” he says. “I guess I don’t hate you, though.”


“You look like a human love heart,” he says, putting down his own cup and picking up empty ones to fill. Harry smiles. “Maybe that’s what I was going for.” He plants both hands on the table and leans across, close in to Louis. “Be mine?”


Thankfully, Louis’ shift on chaperone duty doesn’t start until an hour before the end of the dance, meaning the amount of time he’ll be suffering is minimal and he has plenty of time to choose an appropriate Valentine’s Day ensemble. These things are important.


“Maybe Zayn can ask him to the Valentine’s dance.” “Ugh,” Louis groans. “Don’t say those words to me. I’m trying to block that out of my mind.” “What, you’re not looking forward to our chaperone duties?” Harry teases. “Think of all the young love we’ll get to witness, Lou.”


Louis is spending his Friday night at work, in a hall that smells of sweat and Lynx, surrounded by pink crepe paper, and he can’t stop smiling.


Now that he has a chance to truly look Harry over, Louis is torn between respect and derision. Harry’s wearing a white blazer over a pink shirt, topped off with a red bow tie.


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