fic; no good unless it’s real
“Here,” Harry says, pulling a strap off his shoulder so he can dig his phone out of his bag. “We can get each other’s numbers.”
Louis shakes his head. “I have the practice’s number already,” he tells him. “And my number is definitely on file somewhere.”
Harry pauses, smile quirking a bit as he stares at Louis. The sun is still in his eyes, though, with his sunglasses pushed up onto his head still, so Louis credits his funny face to that.
“I’m trying to give you my number, Louis,” Harry explains around a breathy laugh.
“Oh,” Louis blinks, processing that. He scratches his temple, moves a piece of longer fringe back behind his ear, and then nods. “Okay.”
Or: Louis is a very busy farmer who’s just trying to make it to his next nap and Harry’s the new hot vet that’s determined to infiltrate every area of his life.
Word Count: 17k
here on ao3 ♡
written for the @bottomlouisficfest
