Chapter Text
Louis breathed in the summer air once he got off his plane in Italy. He'd been waiting for this moment for months. As a photography student, he had decided to spend the summer before his final year in Venice; mostly because he wanted to see its nature and architecture and get some great photos, but also because he wanted to get away from his life in Manchester. Away from his friends who'd rather drink their summer away in the same pubs every weekend, and away from his family, whom he loved, but whose constant noise in the small house was sometimes just too much.
So, Louis had spent most of his weekends last year working at a shitty diner, saving up every penny to afford this trip. Then he booked a cheap Airbnb in April and a plane ticket a month later. And now he was there, walking out of the Marco Polo Airport, with his suitcase in one hand and his photography gear bag in the other.
He hadn't actually planned how to get to the Airbnb from the airport. That should probably be stressing him out, but somehow, the anxiety didn't hit. And he was in a good mood anyway, considering he got a window seat, even though he didn't book one.
After wandering around for a bit, he spotted a bus stop outside. He found the route that would take him straight to the port, where he could catch a ferry over to the Lido- the island next to Venice where he was staying. He bought a ticket and boarded, ready to finally get to the Airbnb.
The drive wasn't that long. Just as he had expected, he had to switch to a water taxi in between, but after about an hour and a half, he was in front of his Airbnb.
The place was nothing fancy. It had a small kitchen with a sofa and an old TV, a bedroom with a queen-sized bed and a closet, and there was also a small bathroom. Although it wasn't the most modern apartment ever, it was nice for the price. Once he was inside, he unpacked his clothes and decided to head straight to bed. The travel from the airport to the Lido had completely exhausted him. He took a quick shower, changed into some pyjama pants, and immediately fell asleep.
*
It was already around 11am when Louis woke up the next morning, and despite the bed not being as comfortable as the one back at home, this was one of the best sleeps he'd ever gotten. One, because, well, after being stuck in an uncomfortable aeroplane seat for two hours and another three at the airport, he was really exhausted. And two, because it was quiet. No loud teenagers drunkenly screaming in hallways like at his uni, and no siblings arguing in the room next to his like at home. So yeah, he woke up pretty fucking well rested and a little too excited to explore the city.
He dragged himself out of bed and into the kitchen, only to remember the immediate downside of going straight to sleep yesterday- he had absolutely no food. The only thing he did have was a stale, half-finished sandwich he'd bought at the airport yesterday. He pulled it out, examined the soggy bread for a second, and took a tentative bite, immediately regretting it. Yeah, definitely no longer good.
Tossing it in the bin, he made a mental note to take a grocery trip later. If he wanted to save money and avoid blowing his entire budget on eating out every day, he was going to have to actually buy some real ingredients and learn how to cook for himself. Which, yeah, was probably gonna be a challenge considering his cooking skills stopped at pasta, but then again, he had two whole months ahead of him to learn something new.
Before going out to shop, though, he decided that he should probably contact his family. He took out his phone, cursed at it being almost empty, as he'd forgotten to put it on charge last night, and pressed his mum's number in his contacts.
She picked up after a few seconds.
The call was quick- her asking him about his flight, his sisters saying hello and asking about Italy, as if he hadn't arrived just yesterday, and Louis mostly just answering with short answers.
Once he hung up, he took out his charger and let his phone charge while he was getting changed. He put on some jeans and an old plain white t-shirt, styling his hair a little so it wouldn't fall on his eyes.
When he was done, he googled where the closest grocery store was, finding one about fifteen minutes away, and headed out onto the streets a few minutes later.
He finally took a better look at the neighbourhood around him. It was beautiful. Although he wasn't staying in the city itself, he really liked the place. There were mostly villas and hotels here, but they were all incredibly well preserved and surrounded by lush gardens.
It didn't take him long to find the supermarket. Once inside, he grabbed some basic food, like pasta and pesto that weren't too difficult to make, and some frozen meals as well.
But once he got to the cash register and successfully paid for the groceries, he realised he should've probably thought about the fact that he would need to carry this food back to his apartment earlier, because now he was stuck with two huge and heavy bags of groceries and also two six packs of beer that couldn't even fit in the bags. He was standing by the exit of the store, looking at the groceries that basically surrounded him.
He felt stupid. Why did he even buy that much food? It's not like he needed two tubs of ice cream and the whole damn watermelon he bought.
He was about to ask the cashier if he could pick up some of his items later when someone spoke behind him.
"Hai Bisogno di aiuto?"
What. the. fuck.
Louis turned around and saw a boy standing there, probably around his age or a year or two younger. He was dressed in a linen shirt, only half buttoned, exposing a golden cross necklace on his chest. His messy curly hair was being held back by a pair of black Ray-Bans. Now, not that Louis ever judged people by the first impression, but this guy definitely looked rich. And smug. Which kinda sucked, because he was also very pretty.
"Em, sorry I don't speak Italian," Louis finally said, forcing a smile, after realising that he probably stared at the boy for a little too long.
"Oh, I asked you if you need help?" the boy spoke again, this time with a British accent.
"Uh, you don't need to help."
"You won't be able to carry this alone, though," The boy said, raising an eyebrow.
Well, he was right.
"Nah, I can carry it alone.," Louis, being as stubborn as always, said, although he knew it was a lie. But seriously, he didn't even know the guy.
"Yeah, I don't think so. But go on if you want," the boy smiled, slowly starting to walk away.
Louis rolled his eyes and tried picking up his bags again. Once he succeeded, he leaned down to pick up the packs of beer, but that caused him to lose his balance, and suddenly, he could feel one of the bags pushing him forward, causing him to fall face-first on the floor. He heard a loud noise, only to see that one of his bags was lying on the floor next to him, all the products falling out.
Great, that was embarrassing.
The boy turned back to Louis at the sound and raised his eyebrows, yet didn't say anything.
"Fine, you are right, I need your help," Louis finally said, letting his stubbornness fall.
"I know," the stranger smiled, walking back over to Louis and offering him his large hand to stand up. Louis took the offer and got back on his feet. He then started picking up all the food that fell out of the bag and putting it back in.
"We should each carry a bag and one pack of beer," the guy suggested, moving his hand toward Louis, so he could take one of his bags.
"Sure," Louis nodded, switching one of his bags for the beer the boy had in his hands.
"Thank you, by the way," he added after a moment, mad at himself for needing help with his groceries. He was also super awkward when it came to new people, and he wanted to avoid any interactions with strangers at all costs, yet he was there, failing on his first day.
"It's no big deal. I don't mind helping hot tourists."
Louis rolled his eyes, deciding to ignore the last part. The guy was probably just a natural flirt, and Louis hated those anyway.
"Aren't you a tourist too? You have a British accent."
"So do you. But no, I am not really a tourist. My parents have a house here on the Lido, and we come every year."
"Oh, so you're some rich boy living his dream life in his parents' villa in Venice. Noted," Louis chuckled, walking in what seemed like the direction he came from.. Not that he wanted to judge, but the last thing he wanted was some rich and spoiled teenager flashing his money in his face. There were enough of these at university.
The boy rolled his eyes at the comment.
"Where are you from then?" he asked, ignoring Louis' comment.
"You don't even know my name, and you're already asking me where I'm from?" Louis knew he was probably a bit too harsh. It's who he was, and if that bothered people, that wasn't his problem.
"Sorry, I just don't often meet British people here, and I got excited."
"I'm joking," he wasn't, really. "I am from Doncaster. What about you?"
"London."
"So, what is your name?" the boy spoke again after a few minutes of silence, most likely realising that Louis wasn't gonna keep the conversation going on his own.
"Louis," he answered, "What about you?"
"Just Louis?"
"Tomlinson. Does it even matter?"
"Yeah, I know many people named Louis."
"Uh, sure," Louis personally didn't actually know anyone besides himself, but whatever. " So, what is your name?" he tried again.
"Harry. Harry Styles," the boy, Harry, said back.
And of course, of course, he had some posh-sounding name. Louis wouldn't be surprised if his middle name were Charles or Edward or something.
They kept on walking for a while, finally in silence, and Louis couldn't wait to get back to his place. However, when he finally took a better look around the street they were at, he realised he had no idea where they were. He didn't recognise any of the buildings from his walk to the store earlier today. He stopped in the middle of the street, almost causing Harry to walk into him.
"Why'd we stop?" Harry asked, stepping next to Louis.
"Em," fuck, that was embarrassing. "I have no idea where I am," Louis admitted.
"How do you not know where you are? Did you just get there or something?" Harry laughed.
His laugh stopped once Louis shot him an irritated look.
"Oh, you did just get here," Harry said, his laugh dying out.
"Yes. And I have no idea where we are."
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know. Well, where are you staying?" Harry asked then.
"Em, let me Google the exact address," Louis pulled out his phone, typing the name of his Airbnb in Google Maps. His eyes widened as he saw they'd been walking in the completely wrong direction the whole time. Great.
He turned his phone to Harry, causing the boy to let out a laugh when he realised where they were.
"Well, I can definitely tell you don't study geography by your sense of direction," Harry laughed, causing Louis to give him a death stare.
"Shut up. I literally got here yesterday."
"Whatever makes you feel better, mate," Harry laughed, and Louis rolled his eyes, turning his phone back to him so he could start walking back.
The rest of the walk was mostly quiet, at least from Louis' side. Harry kept on explaining to Louis what the places they walked by were, from local restaurants to different spa studios. Louis was sure he would forget all of it by the end of the day, but he let Harry talk. The poor boy (not literally, of course, the boy was definitely not poor) seemed way too invested in it anyway.
They soon arrived at Louis' place, and he was about to take out his keys and disappear inside, when Harry spoke. "So that's where you're staying?" Harry asked.
"Yes. Do you have a problem?" Louis was a bit annoyed now. Not really by Harry, although his constant talking didn't help, but mostly by the amount of time he had wasted on a single grocery trip.
"No. But I am staying in this house over there," Harry answered, pointing to the big tuscany-style villa about a hundred metres away.
Oh, of course. He met a pretty yet annoying stranger on his first day, and of-fucking-course, that stranger ends up living basically a few meters away.
"Oh, so you are rich, rich," Louis answered, looking at the villa. It was gorgeous- white, with dark, tall windows.
"I guess you could say so"
"You guess? Your summer house is three times bigger than the house I live in with my mum and four sisters."
Harry rolled his eyes and put Louis' bag next to his door. "Well, so I guess I'll be seeing you around then?"
Louis shrugged. He wasn't exactly planning on being friends with people there. Maybe some elderly locals who could tell him stories about the place, but certainly not some rich boy who would just bother and annoy him.
"We'll see," Louis said, and Harry nodded.
"Well, I hope so. It was nice meeting you, Louis."
Can't say the same.
"Yeah," Louis said, not wanting to be too mean by expressing his real thoughts. "Goodbye then."
"Ciao!"
Louis tried his best not to get irritated by Harry using Italian. The guy wasn't even from Italy, for god's sake. He was British, so why couldn't he just talk British like a normal human being?
*
The next morning, Louis woke up to the sound of birds singing and water slapping gently against stone.
For a second, he forgot where he was. The ceiling above him wasn't his own, and the light filtering through the thin curtains was too bright to be the one in Manchester. Back there, mornings were grey and quiet. Here, Venice seemed to wake up already alive.
Groaning, he got out of bed and went to the kitchen to make some tea. But as soon as he took a sip, he grimaced and spit it right back out. He looked at the box, realizing he'd accidentally bought some weird fruit tea that tasted like artificial strawberries and raspberries. Who the fuck thought fruit belonged in tea? Disgusting. He threw the rest of the drink away, accepting the fact that he'll have to stop somewhere on his way to get a proper tea. And perhaps a simple and hopefully cheap breakfast too, if he were already at it.
With that in mind, he decided to go out as soon as possible to explore the Lido a little and maybe even get a few good shots with his camera. He headed back to his room then, looking for an outfit appropriate for Venice that didn't scream tourist. He wanted to blend in as well as possible for his time here.
He threw on some clothes and decided to check his phone quickly before grabbing the camera and heading out. He had barely touched it since he'd arrived, apart from looking up the directions to the grocery store yesterday, and he wanted to make sure he didn't miss any important messages.
He wasn't too surprised when he noticed that the only people who had texted him were his sister and Zayn, his mate from uni. He ignored his sister's text, seeing as it was a photo, which was probably just some meme, and instead opened Zayn's one.
You're missing out, mate. Was all it said.
Louis sighed. He did not want to know what Zayn was talking about, probably some party or some similar dumb shit. Louis decided to ignore it for now, dealing with it later. He had made it very clear that he didn't want to be bothered on his trip, yet Zayn didn't seem to understand that.
Tossing his phone in his back pocket, mostly in case he got lost again, otherwise he'd leave it at the apartment, he grabbed his camera from the couch where he left it yesterday, then headed out.
He walked down the street toward the sea, passing several large villas on his way. He wasn't really paying attention until he glanced at one of the gardens and immediately regretted it. Standing right there, leaning against the railing with a cup of coffee, was Harry.
He was dressed in a loose shirt that was very see-through, enough that Louis could see his tattooed chest, some jeans (who the hell wears long jeans in summer?) and had another pair of expensive sunglasses on.
Louis stopped mid-step, not even sure why and just as soon as he did so, Harry tilted his head slightly, smiling.
"Morning, neighbour."
Right. Louis completely forgot about that.
"You actually live here?" Louis asked flatly. Sure, he remembered Harry telling him that yesterday, he just had the slightest hope the guy was kidding. Apparently, he wasn't.
Harry gestured vaguely to the huge house behind him. "Right there."
Louis nodded, taking in the house again. He hated admitting that it was actually beautiful and just something he would choose if he had to pick out a summer house.
"Right, you're rich."
"Correction," Harry took a sip of his coffee before speaking again. "My parents are rich."
"The same thing."
"Right." Harry chuckled. "And what's the reason you're so grumpy this morning?"
"Definitely rich spoiled kids who want attention."
Harry laughed again. "And when did I say I want attention?"
"Oh, c'mon," Louis didn't even try to stop his eyes from rolling. "You don't need to. I can sense that you want it."
"Mhm. Right."
Louis narrowed his eyes. "Do you seriously not have anything better to do?"
Harry took a slow sip of his coffee. "Not really. It's eight in the morning."
"Well, I'd like peace at that hour, so."
Harry rolled his eyes, pushing himself off the railing.
"So grumpy," he said again, and Louis wanted to kill him. He wasn't even that grumpy.
Instead, he rolled his eyes, adjusting the strap of his camera bag over his shoulder. "Yeah, well. Some things trigger it."
Harry's eyes tracked the movement, landing on the camera. His smile turned a bit amused. "What's that? No grocery bags today?"
"Just a walk," Louis said flatly.
"A walk with a camera." Harry walked closer again, looking entirely too interested. "Didn't take you for the artsy type."
Louis bristled immediately. "And what type did you take me for?"
"Dunno, just not this."
Louis let out a sharp breath, deciding that he needed to leave. He'd had enough for today. "Okay then. I'm leaving."
"Don't let me stop you," Harry replied, his smile widening. "Try not to get lost on the way back again."
"I did not get lost."
"Darling, I don't know if you remember, but you made us walk to the completely opposite part of the island."
Louis groaned at the nickname. Disgusting.
"Don't fucking call me- "
Harry was already walking backwards toward his door. "Have a nice morning, neighbour."
And then he disappeared inside. Louis stood there for a moment, looking at the huge house Harry had just walked into.
Insufferable. Harry was absolutely insufferable.