Imagine Louis fucking Tomlinson slow motion pulling himself up out of the pool, golden skin all over, wearing nothing but tiny black board shorts. Imagine water dripping past the stubble in his jaw, down his chest, over his tattoos, glinting off his curvy little hips. Imagine the way he flicks wet hair out of his eyes - bluer than the water he just jumped out of - and the way his mouth parts slightly in surprise before breaking into his signature Harry Smile. Imagine Harry fucking Styles and the way his grip loosens on his bags as his heart starts pounding, how his already tight jeans start feeling much tighter, how he feels himself beaming back his very own Louis Smile.
Because he’s back with his man and everything is right in the world.