Louis knocked on the door sharply before placing his hand back in his coat pocket.

The door opened, Mr French rolling his eyes and going to shut the door again.

"What's his first name?" Louis whispered to Barbara as he placed his foot in the door.

"Arthur."

"Arthur?" Louis repeated quietly, trying not to let the theme tune to that children's show play in his head.

"Yep."

"Hello Arthur." Louis grinned sarcastically.

"What do you want?" He replied gruffly.

"You to fuck off away from this island."

"Not going to happen."

"You're a fucking son of a bitch, you know? Do you ever think about how much you can affect people?"

"You're only sticking up for that freak because you're one as well."

"Don't you dare call him a freak." Barbara spat. "Harry's been nice to everyone he's talked to since he arrived, he's a sweetheart. And just because somebody is different to you, it doesn't make them the freak. Maybe you're the freak."

"No. He's the freak. Him and Tomlinson here are."

"Oh, piss off. Just because I like cock, doesn't make me a freak. Not does it make anyone else one."

Barbara's eyes went wide as she turned to look at Louis, "Louis! I did not need to hear that." She hissed.

"Sorry Barbara. Time to cover ears maybe?" He winced and she just shook her head.

"Anyway, you're a twat. You're an absolute fucking twat and I expect you're just jealous because nobody will ever want to go near you. Luckily, I'm not that bothered by your stupid words but when it's someone else, someone I care about, honestly, it makes me want to kick you in the balls."

He continued to just stare, obviously unimpressed, so Louis continued.

"If you ever hurt anyone I care about again, I won't hesitate to do so. So think about that. Goodbye." Louis removed his foot from the door, allowing it to shut. "He's such a tosser." He grumbled to Barbara.

"I know." She agreed. "Please try and distract him."

"I will. I'm going to paint with him."

"You are?" She looked incredibly shocked.

"Hey." Louis pouted, "don't look at me like that."

"Well, Lou, you've never been the most talented artist."

"Barbara!" Louis gasped. "I was like 10 years old when you babysat me, you can't hold that against me."

"And your stickmen at age 20 were much better than at age 10?"

Louis huffed, rolling his eyes. "I thought I was a good artist."

"I hate to break it to you but I don't think you'd win in a competition against a 3 year old."

Louis's face screwed up, "if I enter in the primary school art contest and win, what will you give me?"

"I'll make you a cake. But I don't think you'll be allowed to enter."

"We'll see. Red velvet please."

"Alright Louis." She chuckled, "I'll see you soon. Look after Harry for me."

"Of course. Bye Barbara." He hugged her, giving her hand a little squeeze before making his way back home.

//

"Yoohoooo, Harry?"

"Come in." Harry called.

Louis did so, shutting the door behind him. "Hello."

"Hi." Harry turned around, his cardigan hanging around his arms, a crop top beneath and a pair of flannel trousers. His short curls were tied up on top of his head.

Woah, okay. Harry in crop tops. Yes please. Louis gulped at the sight of his toned stomach, two ferns poking up over the top of his trousers and oh, there was the bottom of the butterfly.

"Hello." Louis repeated, gulping again before lifting his eyes to Harry's. "I like your top."

"You do?"

"I do. I think I should get changed actually. Do you have any art clothes?"

Harry rummaged through his suitcase before throwing a top and similar trousers to Louis.

"Thank you. I'll be right back, and you're sure you don't mind these getting paint on?"

"Positive. I use them quite often when I'm painting."

"Alright sick."

Louis got changed quickly before joining Harry again and flopping onto the bed. "So, where and what are we going to paint?"

"In here?" Harry offered, sitting on the floor.

"Okay." Louis sat next to him, crossing his legs. "We should paint those flowers."

"Okay." Harry agreed, looking far too smug for Louis's liking.

Louis just nudged him, raising his eyebrows with a playful smirk. "I'm basically Picasso you know?"

"I'm sure."

"Do you have a hairband?"

"Why?"

"Why do you think? To put my hair up obviously." Louis grinned.

Harry handed him one, and watched in amusement as Louis tried to tie his hair up.

"Is this witchcraft?" He frowned, his bottom lip sticking out. "How does it work?"

"It's a hairband Louis. 3 years olds can use them."

Louis huffed and kept trying, eventually giving up with a large sigh. "Harry?"

"Yeah?" Harry replied through a fit of giggles.

"Tie my hair up for me?"

"Come here then." Harry beckoned, still laughing.

Louis shuffled over, putting his head back as Harry gathered Louis's hair up and put it into a tiny spiky ponytail.

"You look like a pineapple." He grinned, flicking Louis's hair.

Louis began to hum the theme tune to SpongeBob as he moved to sit more comfortably.

//

"You go first." Harry gestured, holding his painting to his chest.

Louis turned the paper around proudly and Harry's hand flew to his mouth as he tried to cover a laugh.

"Hey." Louis frowned, "what are you laughing at?"

"N-nothing. That's um...well, it's interesting." He squeaked.

Louis turned the painting back around, looking at it from arm's length. "It's not that bad. It would win against loads of kids."

"Key word, kids."

"You're mean." Louis pouted.

"Are you sure you painted those flowers?" Harry pointed at them, "or did you paint something else that I can't see?"

"Fuck off." Louis whined, "you're just jealous."

"Yeah." Harry nodded with another laugh.

"Twat. Let's see your masterpiece then."

Harry immediately turned shy, turning it around slowly and avoiding eye contact.

"Oh fuck off." Louis groaned, sliding down onto his back. "This isn't fair."

"I did art in uni." Harry told him, "art and law."

"You did law in uni? God, you must be smart. Is there actually anything you can't do?"

"I'm not really all that smart." He shrugged, "not naturally. I just thought law sounded interesting and back then I felt I could do something with my life."

"You still can. You write poetry, you're an artist, you bake, you know about law, you sing- you could literally do anything."

"It's too late..." Harry started slowly, "there's no point anymore."

"There's plenty of point."

Harry shrugged, "anyway, I think we both know who won that."

"Yeah, me." Louis said innocently, "obviously. What's my prize?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "I'll bake you a cake."

"Get in!" He pumped a fist in the air, "thanks darlin'."

At the sound of the pet name, Harry's cheeks flushed red and he looked down to his lap. Louis hid his smirk as he observed the way Harry grew a little flustered.