Story: Young & Beautiful • Larry Stylinson

It’s just as they’ve all taken one collective gulp of wine, when the door suddenly opens once more.

And it’s another beautiful boy.

Louis really shouldn’t be surprised at this rate since this school is seemingly (miraculously) inhabited only by those whom the gods love.

The boys fall into a surprised silence, every pair of eyes fixing on the newcomer, including Zayn’s, as the entire room lights up. Everyone immediately pays attention to the boy, apparently delighted to see him.

And Louis can tell that this boy’s aware of it, can see it in the slow blink of his eyes and the focused calm of his movements, but he barely acknowledges the room. Without even a glance in their direction, the stranger begins unfurling the creamy satin scarf from around his neck, bejeweled fingers slowly picking at the intricate weave.

Eyes set on the task at hand, the boy says in a long, musically monotonous drawl:

“Hello, my little blossoms.”

His tone is smug and smirking, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing and what he’s saying. These boys are his—they’re beautiful, and they’re his collection.

And Louis is immediately rubbed the wrong way.