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Assistant: Title: The Theory of Us
        Author: happyhazza94 happyhazza94 
        Chapter: 15/41 
        Summary: A prestigious university in London, known for its cutthroat academia and political undertones. Both Harry and Louis are esteemed professors in the English department-intellectual giants in their own right, but polar opposites in personality, teaching style, and personal values.Harry and Louis have butted heads for years. Their debates are legendary-public lectures where sparks fly, published papers that subtly (or not so subtly) tear each other's theories apart. To the academic world, they are the embodiment of intellectual rivalry. To those who know them personally, it's more than that.For Harry, Louis represents everything wrong with the academic elite: a privileged man who refuses to use his platform for change. For Louis, Harry is reckless, someone who takes risks he can afford because he doesn't fear rejection the way Louis does. But under all the intellectual posturing, there's always been something more.
        Contents: Chapter 15: Chapter 14
    

    


      
        
          
          (See the end of the chapter for  notes.)
          
      
  

  
  
    
    The meeting room was one of the smaller ones on campus, tucked away in a quieter part of the faculty offices, its walls lined with bookshelves and various certificates of academic excellence, some of which bore the names of the very people sitting at the polished oak table. The air was thick with the scent of old paper and fresh coffee, the latter generously provided by Liam, who had placed a tray in the middle of the table before the meeting had even started.Louis sat with his back straight, fingers laced together on the table in front of him, a posture of discipline and control that had been drilled into him since his earliest academic years. Across from him, Harry lounged in his chair with an ease that contrasted starkly with Louis' rigid composure, one ankle propped over his knee, fingers tapping absently against the armrest, the picture of relaxed confidence. But despite their differing physicality, they were aligned in their purpose. At least when it came to the work itself.Professor Graham, one of the senior faculty members overseeing the initiative, cleared his throat and glanced down at the printed summary in front of him. He was a distinguished man, with silvered hair and sharp eyes that missed nothing, his tone always carrying a weight of authority without needing to raise his voice. "You've made considerable progress in structuring the lecture series," he began, running a hand over his neatly pressed suit jacket. "Your division of the thematic units shows a solid grasp of the core issues, and the approach to alternating perspectives should allow for an engaging discourse between yourselves and the students."Professor Carmichael, equally as esteemed though a bit more pragmatic in his delivery, nodded in agreement. "The balance between theoretical analysis and practical case studies is well thought out," he added, flipping through the pages of the report. "And your inclusion of contemporary academic debates will encourage critical thinking. That's precisely what we were hoping for when we paired you two together."Louis allowed himself a small sense of satisfaction at the feedback, though he merely nodded. "We wanted to ensure that the students are presented with a framework that allows them to challenge traditional perspectives while still grounding their arguments in established research," he explained, his voice steady and professional. "It's important that they don't just memorize existing theories but actually engage with them.""Exactly," Harry chimed in, his tone effortlessly smooth. "And with both of us leading the discussion from slightly different angles, it should push them to articulate their own positions more confidently. It's one thing to read about differing opinions in a textbook, it's another to watch them play out in real-time and be forced to think on your feet."Liam, who had been quietly listening while taking notes, glanced up with a nod of approval. "I think it's coming together better than we anticipated," he said, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "We had our concerns at the start, but it's clear that the two of you are not only managing but actually complementing each other's styles. Keep at it."There was a murmur of agreement from the professors before Professor Graham leaned back slightly in his chair. "You've got another month before the lecture series officially begins, but at this rate, I don't anticipate any issues with being fully prepared by then. That said, don't hesitate to reach out if you need additional resources or if any unexpected challenges arise."Louis inclined his head slightly. "We appreciate that."Harry, ever the charmer, grinned. "We'll make sure to let you know if we start tearing each other's heads off."A low chuckle passed through the room, and with that, the meeting began to wrap up, final notes exchanged before the professors excused themselves, leaving only Liam behind as he packed up his things.Louis exhaled, closing the folder in front of him, his mind already sorting through the next steps they needed to take. He and Harry had managed to find a rhythm in their work over the past few weeks, their conversations more constructive, their dynamic oddly.. functional. If nothing else, their differing approaches had forced them both to consider new perspectives, and in that regard, the collaboration was proving more successful than he had anticipated.He glanced up, about to suggest they go over a few finer details while they were already in work mode, but Harry beat him to it."You up for a bit more work?" Harry asked, stretching his arms above his head before dropping them back down onto the table. "Might as well while we're in the zone."Louis nodded. "I was about to suggest the same. We can find an open space on campus-""Or," Harry interjected, grinning slightly, "we could head to mine."Louis blinked. "Your flat?"Harry shrugged, as if the suggestion was the most casual thing in the world. "Yeah, why not? Fewer distractions, decent coffee, plus, I've got all my books and notes there. It'd probably be more efficient than trying to find a spot here where we won't be interrupted every five minutes."Louis hesitated for only a fraction of a second. It was a reasonable suggestion, entirely logical. There was no reason to decline. And yet, something about the idea of sitting across from Harry in a space that belonged entirely to him, where there would be no external pressures, no other students milling about, no professors overseeing their work, felt like stepping into uncharted territory.Still, this was just work. That was all."Fine," Louis said, standing and gathering his things. "But I'm holding you to the decent coffee claim."Harry smirked, grabbing his bag. "You won't be disappointed, Tommo."Louis rolled his eyes at the nickname but didn't argue, falling into step beside Harry as they made their way out of the meeting room, the tension between them subtle but undeniably present, a thread just beginning to tighten.*Harry's flat was exactly as Louis had expected it to be. Warm, lived-in, stylish in a way that didn't feel forced. Book-filled shelves, plants that looked suspiciously well-cared for, and a record player perched in the corner beside an impressive stack of vinyls. There were mismatched coffee mugs on the counter, the faint scent of something woodsy in the air, and a throw blanket carelessly draped over the back of the couch as if it had been abandoned there mid-use.It was comfortable. A stark contrast to Louis' own more minimalistic tendencies, where everything had its place, carefully arranged with precision and order."Make yourself at home," Harry said, tossing his keys onto a small bowl by the door before walking toward the kitchen. "Coffee first, work second."Louis set his bag down near the couch and took a careful step further inside, eyes scanning the space without meaning to. It was strange, being here. Outside of the university, away from the weight of professionalism, the expectations, the sharp lines they had drawn between themselves for so long."Black, right?" Harry called from the kitchen, already moving like he had the entire process memorized down to muscle memory."Yeah," Louis answered, voice almost distracted as he finally took a seat. He heard the hum of the coffee machine, the low clinking of mugs, and let himself relax for a moment.Harry returned a few minutes later, handing Louis his coffee before dropping onto the couch beside him with his own cup, far too casual, one leg folding beneath the other, body angled slightly toward Louis in a way that felt.. natural."So," Harry said, taking a sip, "let's get to it."And at first, they did. They spread their notes across the coffee table, Harry's laptop open between them as they reviewed what they'd gone over in the meeting, adjusting details, clarifying points, working together in a way that felt almost seamless now. It was almost alarming how easy it had become, the way they fit into a rhythm, the way their conversations had stopped being stiff or forced.And maybe it was the setting- less formal, stripped of the usual university constraints, but eventually, the conversation drifted."Alright," Harry said, leaning back against the couch, fingers tapping against his knee, "we've sorted out the structure of the next discussion, but have we considered the real issue here?"Louis raised an eyebrow. "And that would be?"Harry's expression was all mischief. "Which one of us is gonna be the students' favorite?"Louis scoffed. "Obviously me."Harry placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. "That's bold.""I have the experience.""I have the charm."Louis rolled his eyes but couldn't quite fight the twitch of his lips. "You can't just flirt your way into academic favoritism."Harry tilted his head, pretending to consider it. "Wanna bet?"Louis shook his head, amused despite himself, and before he could stop it, the conversation had unraveled completely. One moment they were talking about work, the next they were arguing over movies, debating whether or not pineapple belonged on pizza, Louis mocking Harry's taste in music while Harry dramatically gasped in horror at Louis' "atrocious" reading habits.And somewhere along the way, coffee had turned into wine.Louis wasn't sure when it had happened, but at some point, Harry had wandered off and returned with a bottle, two glasses, a cheeky grin as he said, "We're off the clock, might as well."And so, they drank.And they laughed.And somehow, they ended up like this, both of them lounging on the couch, their papers forgotten, bodies turned toward each other, the room dimly lit by the warm glow of a lamp in the corner, the scent of wine lingering in the air.And something had shifted.Louis felt it in the way Harry's knee barely brushed against his, in the way their voices had lowered, quieter now, as if they'd settled into something softer, something unspoken."You're not what I expected," Louis found himself admitting, the words slipping out before he had a chance to think about them.Harry, who had been twirling the stem of his wine glass between his fingers, glanced up. "Yeah?"Louis nodded. "Thought you'd be... I don't know. More of a pain in the ass."Harry grinned, tilting his head slightly. "And?"Louis exhaled, rolling the glass between his palms. "You are."Harry laughed, rich and unfiltered, and Louis felt it in his chest, something warm settling there."You're not what I expected, either," Harry admitted after a moment, voice softer now.Louis glanced at him. "What'd you expect?"Harry's eyes flickered across his face, studying him in a way that made Louis' stomach clench, made his throat feel dry."I don't know," Harry murmured, thoughtful. "But not this."Louis swallowed.The silence that followed was heavy, not uncomfortable, but thick with something unspoken, something neither of them had quite named yet.And maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the way the air between them had changed, but Louis was acutely aware of how close they were, the way his knee was still brushing against Harry's, the way Harry's fingers rested against the couch, so close, barely a breath away from his own.He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears.And when Harry exhaled, slow and steady, eyes not leaving his. Louis felt it.The shift.The quiet, terrifying, undeniable realization that whatever this was, whatever had been building between them for weeks, maybe longer, was there, waiting.Waiting for something.And it would take just one move.Just one-Louis inhaled sharply and pulled back, breaking whatever invisible tether had been drawing them closer, his chest feeling tight, his thoughts racing.Harry, to his credit, didn't push.He just let out a slow breath, took another sip of his wine, and said, so casually it almost didn't sting-"Should probably call it a night, yeah?"Louis nodded, barely trusting himself to speak.And even as they gathered their things, even as Harry walked him to the door, even as they exchanged a simple "see you tomorrow" before parting ways-Louis felt it.Felt the way his skin still tingled from where Harry's knee had brushed against his.Felt the way his chest was too tight, his thoughts too loud, his heartbeat not yet steady.And maybe, for the first time. Louis wasn't sure if he wanted to fight it anymore.*The days following their late-night work session at Harry's flat were different. Not in any obvious way, there was no grand declaration, no spoken acknowledgment of the shift, but it was there, woven into the silence between them, in the way Louis felt his pulse stutter when Harry's gaze lingered on him just a second too long.They fell into a rhythm, an almost effortless collaboration that surprised them both. Their scheduled meetings were productive, the project taking shape under their combined efforts, their differing approaches balancing each other in ways neither had expected. Louis, with his structured methodology and relentless precision, laid the groundwork, while Harry, ever the improviser, found ways to make their arguments more dynamic, their material more engaging. It worked.But something else was happening too, something neither of them was quite ready to name.They had started staying later, conversations stretching beyond their work. It was subtle at first: a discussion about lecture formats slipping into an argument over the best classic novel, which somehow turned into Harry passionately defending his love for Shakespeare while Louis scoffed at the predictability of it. Then, another night, Harry discovered Louis had never seen one of his favorite films and immediately insisted they fix that- except they only made it halfway through before getting sidetracked debating the cinematography, wine glasses abandoned on the coffee table as their voices filled the space.It wasn't just the conversations either. It was the way Harry's fingers would brush against Louis' wrist when he passed him a book, the way their knees knocked under the table, the way Louis found himself hyper-aware of every casual touch, every moment that seemed to last a beat too long.One evening, deep into their work, Harry, restless as always, stretched out on the couch, one arm draped lazily over the back of it, his curls an unruly mess from where he had been running his fingers through them in thought. Louis sat across from him, trying to focus on his laptop, but his eyes kept drifting toward the way Harry's shirt had ridden up just slightly, exposing the faintest hint of a tattoo. It was infuriating, how effortless Harry was, how easily he seemed to exist in his own skin."You're staring," Harry's voice was amused, and Louis startled, immediately looking away, cheeks burning."Am not.""You totally were," Harry grinned, stretching even further, his long limbs taking up more space. "I know I'm distractingly good-looking, but come on, Lou, try to keep it professional."Louis scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You're unbearable."Harry only smirked, and Louis hated that his stomach twisted at the sight of it. Hated even more that he was suddenly aware of just how close they were, how easy it would be to lean in, to erase the small distance between them.Instead, he cleared his throat, abruptly standing. "We should get back to work."Harry tilted his head, watching him with something unreadable in his eyes, but he let it go. "Right. Work."And so they did. But the air between them had changed, charged with something unspoken, something that neither of them could ignore.Hours later, long after the conversation had shifted from academia to music to the absurdity of a certain campus professor's wardrobe choices, Louis found himself sinking further into the couch, exhaustion settling into his bones. The warmth of the room, the low hum of Harry's voice, the way everything felt strangely... comfortable, it lulled him into a haze, his eyelids heavy, thoughts drifting.At some point, he must have dozed off. Because the next thing he knew, he was waking to the quiet hum of music from Harry's speaker, the soft glow of the lamp illuminating the room in golden light. And Harry- Harry was still there, next to him, his head tilted back against the couch, eyes closed, his breathing even.Louis should have moved. Should have woken him, or at least put more space between them. But instead, he stayed still, his gaze tracing the sharp line of Harry's jaw, the way his lashes fanned against his cheek, the way his lips were parted just slightly.His heart did something strange in his chest, something he didn't want to name.He looked away, staring at the ceiling instead, his mind a mess of thoughts he wasn't ready to confront. But as he sat there, surrounded by the quiet, the weight of it all settling over him, he realized something with startling clarity.He felt safe here.And that scared him more than anything.*The wine was warm in their bellies now, its slow buzz making conversation easier, unspooling the tight knots of hesitation and formality that had still lingered in the air between them. What had started as an evening of structured work - again - had unraveled into something softer, something real, as they sat facing each other on Harry's couch, the documents and notes from their project forgotten on the coffee table, their glasses resting beside them, half-empty but never far from reach.The soft glow from the dimmed lights cast shadows across their faces, making the entire setting feel impossibly intimate, as if the world outside of this moment didn't exist."You're close with your mum, yeah?" Harry asked, tilting his head slightly, his curls messy from how he had been running a hand through them absentmindedly.Louis hummed, tracing the rim of his wine glass with his fingertip. "Yeah," he admitted, voice quieter now. "She's... everything, really. We've been through a lot together, her and me. She's always been the one person who sees me. The real me." He paused, exhaling slowly. "Even when I couldn't see myself."Harry's brows lifted slightly at that, but he didn't speak just yet, letting Louis continue if he wanted to."She knows me better than I do, sometimes," Louis added with a small, breathy chuckle. "Always told me I was holding myself back. Said I was scared of... of what I really wanted. And she wasn't wrong."Harry took a sip from his glass, eyes never leaving Louis. "What do you think she meant?"Louis hesitated. He knew exactly what she had meant, had known for a long time, but saying it out loud was different. His fingers curled tightly around his knee, jaw clenching briefly before he forced himself to relax."I think..." He swallowed. "I think she always knew I was lying to myself." His voice was tight now, restrained, like he wasn't quite sure if he could handle where the words were leading him. "I had this idea of what my life was supposed to look like. The job, the relationship, the future. The kind of person I was supposed to be." His throat bobbed as he took a deep breath. "And I think I let that idea dictate everything. I let it tell me what I should want."Harry's voice was impossibly gentle when he spoke. "Eleanor?"Louis nodded slowly. "Yeah." He sighed, running a hand through his hair, the frustration obvious. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I did love her. She was good to me, in a way. She was... safe. Predictable. The kind of person my family, her family, the world would look at and go, 'yeah, that makes sense.'" His fingers tightened around his glass. "But she never really knew me. I never let her."Harry stayed quiet, listening, his expression unreadable but warm, inviting Louis to continue.Louis exhaled a humorless laugh. "I mean, shit, Harry. We were talking about having a baby. A fucking baby. And I let it get that far. Because I thought that was what I was supposed to do. Because I thought..." He swallowed hard. "Because I thought that if I kept doing the right things, playing the right part, then maybe all the rest of it would just-" He snapped his fingers. "Disappear."Harry's gaze softened, understanding settling into his features. "You mean-""The thoughts," Louis cut in, voice dropping lower, like he was afraid someone might hear even though it was only the two of them. "The feelings. The way I always caught myself looking too long. At things I wasn't supposed to want. At people I wasn't supposed to want." His chest rose and fell as he forced himself to meet Harry's gaze. "And I hated myself for it. I still do, sometimes."Harry set his glass down, leaning forward just slightly, his voice as careful as it was steady. "Louis, there's nothing wrong with you."Louis scoffed, shaking his head. "You say that, but-""There's nothing wrong with you," Harry repeated, firmer this time, like he needed Louis to hear it. "You didn't do anything wrong. You didn't fail anyone. You didn't... you didn't lose yourself. You just-" He hesitated, searching for the right words. "You just needed time to figure it out. And that's okay."Louis let out a shaky breath, nodding even though his throat felt tight. He wasn't sure if he believed it yet, but for some reason, hearing Harry say it made it feel less like something he had to fight.For a long moment, they just sat there, the air between them heavy, but not suffocating. Just full. With things said and unsaid, with understanding, with something that felt bigger than either of them knew what to do with.Louis shifted, glancing at the clock on the wall. "I should go," he murmured, clearing his throat.Harry nodded, standing as well. "Yeah, of course." He walked Louis to the door, and as Louis reached for the handle, something made him pause.He turned back, and before he could overthink it, he reached for Harry.It wasn't awkward. It wasn't forced. It was just... right.Harry's arms came around him easily, warm and sure, and Louis felt himself exhale, his forehead briefly resting against Harry's shoulder. The hug was long, longer than a normal one would be, but neither of them let go. Harry's hand slid up and down Louis' back in a way that felt grounding, like he was silently telling him that it was okay. That everything he had just admitted, everything he was struggling with- it was okay.Louis closed his eyes, swallowing hard, taking in the solidness of Harry, the way he smelled like cinnamon and something warm, something safe.When they finally pulled apart, Harry's hands lingered briefly on Louis' arms, his thumbs brushing once before he let go completely."See you tomorrow?" Harry asked softly.Louis nodded, throat too tight for words.And then he left.And that night, as he lay in bed in Nialls flat, staring at the ceiling, he wasn't sure what was keeping him awake more, the things he had admitted, or the way being in Harry's arms had made him feel.*Louis had always known Niall was a good listener. It was one of the things that made their friendship so easy. He never had to censor himself, never had to weigh his words before speaking, because Niall had this way of taking everything in stride, nodding along, offering support without making it a big deal.That's exactly what he did now.They were in Niall's flat, Louis sprawled on the couch, Niall sitting cross-legged on the floor with a beer in hand. They'd gone through two already, and Louis was working on his third, but the alcohol wasn't even the main factor loosening his tongue. It was the exhaustion, the way the last few weeks had turned everything in his life upside down."So," Niall said, cracking open another can. "You've been spending a lot of time with Harry, huh?"Louis huffed a laugh, staring at the ceiling. "Yeah.""You like him?"Louis' stomach twisted. "Dunno." He swallowed. "I mean, yeah, obviously. He's a good guy."Niall hummed. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."Louis sighed, closing his eyes briefly. "I just- It's complicated." He paused, running a hand through his hair. "I told him about Eleanor. About... everything. Even the stuff I haven't admitted to myself before."Niall's eyebrows lifted slightly. "And?"Louis exhaled. "And he was just... good about it. Didn't make me feel like an idiot. Didn't act weird. Just listened." He tilted his head, frowning at the ceiling. "And when I left, we, uh... hugged."Niall snorted. "Oh, shit. You hugged? That's it. You're practically married.""Shut up," Louis muttered, but his lips twitched.Niall grinned, then nudged his foot. "Listen, mate, all jokes aside- there's nothing wrong with any of this, yeah? If it's new, if it's confusing. Doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you. You're just figuring it out."Louis let that sink in for a moment. It didn't fix everything, didn't erase all the fear and doubt, but it helped.And when Niall clapped him on the back and declared that Louis was officially giving up on finding a flat and just staying with him indefinitely, Louis didn't argue.It wasn't perfect, but it was something.*Harry didn't even have to say anything when he walked into Zayn's flat. Zayn just took one look at him, shook his head, and pointed at the couch."Alright, spill."Harry laughed, flopping down onto the cushions. "What, no small talk?"Zayn rolled his eyes, sitting next to him and lighting a cigarette. "Mate, you've been acting weird all week. Like, more than usual. What happened?"Harry hesitated, drumming his fingers on his knee. "I think I'm in trouble."Zayn raised an eyebrow. "What kind of trouble?"Harry exhaled. "The Louis kind."Zayn smirked. "Called it.""Shut up.""I called it," Zayn repeated. "Weeks ago. Should've placed a bet."Harry shook his head, trying not to smile. "It's not funny.""It's a little funny."Harry sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. "I just- It's different with him. I don't know how, but it is. And I don't think he even realizes it yet."Zayn took a slow drag from his cigarette, eyes sharp. "And you do?"Harry paused. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I do." He swallowed. "I think I have for a while."Zayn nodded like he had already known that. "So what now?"Harry huffed a laugh. "Fuck if I know."*By the time Friday night rolled around, they all needed a break.Liam and Zayn had officially come out as a couple- well, officially meaning they had finally admitted it to the group, and Niall had immediately yelled I FUCKING KNEW IT at the top of his lungs. Harry had clapped them both on the back, grinning like an idiot, and Louis.. well, Louis had just laughed and told them they were insufferable.The beers were flowing, the music was loud, and for the first time in weeks, things felt easy.They played darts, they made fun of each other, they talked about absolutely nothing for hours.At one point, Harry turned to Louis, eyes bright with amusement. "You know, you're not as much of a pain in the ass as I thought you were."Louis scoffed. "Don't get all soppy on me now, Styles."Harry smirked. "Too late."Louis just rolled his eyes, but there was something light in his chest, something that felt dangerously close to happiness.By the end of the night, Liam and Zayn had disappeared into Liam's room, Niall had passed out on the couch, and somehow, Louis and Harry ended up tangled together under a blanket on the other couch.Neither of them moved.Neither of them said a word about it.But the shift was there, unmistakable.Something was happening.And neither of them were stopping it.
  
  

    
      
        
        
          Just hang in there a little longer, I promise, soon, we'll get there soon..'
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
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