A knock on Harry's door made him jump, his pen drawing a line across a couple of words. He sighed, placing the pen in as a bookmark.

He stood up to open the door, surprised when he saw Louis. Though he shouldn't be surprised as there was nobody else to be knocking.

"Hi, I've come to visit the art gallery if that's alright."

"Oh, okay." Harry nodded, "one second."

He left Louis awkwardly stood at the door as he shut his journal and placed it on the desk. He motioned for Louis to come in and Louis's jaw dropped at the beautiful paintings sat on the floor, leaning against the wall.

A half finished one of the view from Harry's window was on an easel next to the window and a couple of small sketches lay on the desk.

"You should be famous."

"I'm glad I'm not."

"Why not? Being famous has it perks."

"I like my privacy." He shrugged.

"Yeah, fair enough that. Me too. God, this is amazing. Can I...?" He motioned to one of paintings on the floor, silently asking if he could pick it up.

Harry nodded as he sat on the edge of his bed.

"The detail, bloody hell. Before you leave do you reckon you can paint me something?"

"Yeah, yeah. Of course."

"Can I look through this?" He pointed to the sketchbook that sat next to the journal.

Harry shook his head quickly, "some stuff in there is too personal." He explained quickly, "sorry."

"Don't apologise. It's fine." Louis shrugged, his eyes landing on the notebook.

The cover had a couple of doodles on, along with a few phrases. LET ME LOVE and love is only for the brave standing out the most.

In the bottom left corner thoughts, lyrics and poems... was scrawled in cursive writing. As Louis looked around the room he found himself learning a little more about Harry.

His stuff was organised neatly, not so neat that it was precise, but not one mess was in sight. If looking for something, it could be found immediately.

A bottle of wine adorned the dressing table, a dish of necklaces and rings next to that.

Three books were piled up, the tops of the corners of the pages were bent down, probably having allowed Harry to find his page.

"What do you fancy for dinner?" Louis turned back to face Harry, not wanting to pry too much.

"I don't mind."

"Is lasagna alright?"

"Yeah. That's fine, thank you."

"You know, you really could sell some of this. Sell it to some of the cafés or something."

"I don't need the money, it's okay."

Louis shrugged, "well, I'll leave you be now. You're really talented though, don't ignore that."

"Thanks." Harry beamed shyly.

//

"Hey, I wondered if you wanted to join me?" Louis asked from the doorway of the living room.

Harry shut his journal, looking up towards Louis, "huh?"

"I'm going for a walk. Thought it might be nice to have some company."

"Oh, yeah. Okay. I'm ready to go now if you want?"

"Yeah, we'll get our shoes on then go."

Harry met Louis by the front door and they walked out into the street. Louis made sure the door was locked before they began to walk.

"How come you're going out in the day?"

"I'm not a vampire." Louis teased, raising an eyebrow.

"No, no. I meant like, with the people staying here and your pub?"

"I've shut the pub for the day, plus, there's nobody staying here but you at the minute."

"There's not?" Harry frowned, "but I thought there were."

"You thought wrong." Louis chuckled.

"Oh."

"You wanna go through the woods to the cliffs and back?"

"Yeah, that sounds good." Harry agreed.

Louis waved at Barbara through her café window, Harry giving her a smile.

"What's your favourite colour?" Louis turned to Harry.

"Why?"

"Because I don't know much about you."

"Light pink." Harry answered,"what about you?"

"Blue I think. Not a particular shade though. Just blue. Light purple is nice as well though."

Harry nodded in agreement, "I like lilac as well."

"Favourite artist?"

"I dunno, I like like, Fleetwood Mac and The Beatles."

"Sick! Me too! And I like all Green Day and Arctic Monkeys and Oasis."

Harry smiled at Louis, rather enjoying his enthusiasm about music.

"Yeah, I do too."

"We can have a two man party!"

"We can." Harry laughed.

Louis grinned before asking, "how many tattoos do you have?"

"What is this? 21 questions?" Harry asked, though there was a sense of teasing in his voice.

"No, 22 questions." Louis joked awfully.

Harry groaned, shaking his head. "I dunno how many I have. I don't keep count."

"Well then, what's your favourite?"

"Got a few. I like my butterfly, swallows, and my ship."

"Where are these lurking?" Louis asked in surprise, not having noticed them before. "Not to sound creepy." He added quickly.

"Butterfly," Harry pointed to his tummy, "swallows," he pointed to his chest, "and ship." He pointed to the top of his arm.

"How come they're your favourites?"

"Because they're free." Harry spoke quietly, averting eye contact.

"What do you mean? Are you not free?" Louis furrowed his brow.

"No, not really. Can we move on please?" Harry was obviously uncomfortable as he played with his rings.

"Yeah, yeah. Course."

"Do you have any tattoos? Other than the 28?"

Louis chuckled and nodded, "yeah, got a fuck load. I'm sure you must have seen them before."

"I haven't."

"Weird." Louis shrugged, "all up my arm I've got 'em. And one along my collarbones, and then my lower legs."

"Do you have a favourite?"

"Nah." He shrugged, "I don't."

"Oh."

"Favourite film?"

"I don't really have one in particular. I like rom coms though."

"Ugh, not that shit." Louis groaned.

"Heyyy." Harry whined, "rom coms are good."

"They're so shitty."

"No they're not. They're cute and inspirational."

"Oh yeah, so inspirational. 'There's this dude and he's hot so I'm going to fuck him and then he'll break my heart and then he'll come running back because my best friend talked to him and we'll fall in love and get married." Louis threw his hands in the air.

"Okay, yeah, they're shitty. But I like them." Harry admitted.

Louis laughed at that, tripping over a root immediately after.

Harry covered his mouth with his hand, immediately going to help Louis up.

Louis accepted the hand up, surprised at how soft Harry's hands were.

"Your hands are massive." Louis observed, "and proper soft."

"Your hands are just small."

"My hands are not small." Louis folded his arms across his chest, pouting.

"They are a bit." Harry smiled as they continued walking.

"Yeah, but they're in proportion to my body."

"Okay, I'll give you that. But it just means you're short."

"Oh give me a break, I'm big."

"Okay." Harry smirked down at the ground.

Louis just stuck his middle finger up at Harry's back as Harry began to walk again.