(Louis' house in the media)

~L~

Epiphany; they say it is the moment when you are struck with a life changing realisation. Something as miniscule as why I paint my nails in the lightest shade, or as important as why I behave in a certain way.

It could have been just anything which would change or define the course of my life. Somehow, my epiphany turns out to be him. He stands there all blushing and awkward, dusting off his pants and adjusting the frame on his nose.

My heart beats faster for him, his simplistic looks attract me in an odd way. The tamed down hair, closed off nature, polite excuses are what keep me thinking about him. I am stuck in the moment; everything is playing out slowly for me. People give him odd looks at his dressing sense and clumsy feet before brushing past him, but heaven knows he has all my attention.

I snap out of my daze and rush to help him gather his stuff. Our eyes connect for the first time as I hand him over his book case, fingers brushing lightly. He felt the spark too! I know as I see the crimson tinge to his cheeks darken even more.

"Th-thanks," he stutters out, his voice deep and entrancing.

"You are welcome," I reply with a smile and a much confident tone, offering my hand to shake, "Georgia."

His hands are firm and callous as he shakes mine, "Alessandro."

It is this moment I change my view on love. He is my Epiphany.

Louis sighed in bliss, Amore Eterno, had always been his favourite novella, ever since the book came out seven years ago. It conveyed so many emotions, as if the author was longing for a love like this. He didn't know if he related more to Georgia or Alessandro. Sure, he was confident like Georgia but he might even be naïve like Alessandro to not realise someone adored him with deep affection.

If he was ever granted a wish, he would wish to meet the unknown face behind those words. There was a name, of course, Edward H., but Louis knew that it was a pen name. He was pretty sure of himself that the author had written it under a disguised name. There was no proof, no, but his gut feeling had never defied him.

The novella was succeeded by four more novels which were set in different parts of world, he had the whole collection, but the novella had always been the best out of all in his eyes.

Maybe he was biased as the background was set in Italy, or maybe because he fell in love with their love, fell in love with the author's first work.

"Louis, I have already called you three times!" His mother's voice ran throughout the house. He huffed out a breath and stood from his bed, keeping his book upside down. His back gave a crack as he stretched his body, sitting for two hours straight led to that.

"Have patience, woman! The country wouldn't starve if I am late to pick up your guest," he complained as he walked out to the front yard, "Also, mind you that he is our neighbour, so don't invite him over all the time as if he is a family member."

"He is your father's close friend, we will treat him like family and you will not be rude to him," Johannah pointed a finger at him in warning, she knew her son could outsmart anyone with the brain of his. Mostly she was proud of that, but their guest was someone Eliott, her husband, was very fond of. "He used to be Eliott's favourite student, a smart man he is. Treat him with respect. Now go, your father is already waiting in the truck."

Louis bit his tongue as another snide remark threatened to jump out. He put on his sunglasses and ran a hand through his hair before striding to the truck.

"Excited to meet him?" He asked his father after climbing into the vehicle.

"More than you can imagine," Eliott answered with a smile, eyes on road as they drove to the airport, "You are just going to admire him. A battle of wits it will be. He is older, sure, but my son is just as smart, if not more."

Louis grinned at the praise. He was a bit narcissistic, but who could blame him. He was not sure about admiring though, a part of him already despised the man but he will wait before passing his judgement across.

Raised as a single child with wealthy parents, Louis had been given all the privileges but he tried his best not to exploit them. Sometimes he couldn't help it though, he came off as a rude person without being aware of it. Also, he had been the popular kid for as long as he could remember, it wasn't his fault if he held his pride high.

He resolved to not let this new guest walk over him if he was as smart as his parents made him to be.

Al Bano and Romina played on the radio, Ci Sarà had been on the charts since March and honestly it was a catchy tune, soft at the start and drifting into a perfect mix of both singers' voice. He sang along under his breath, bobbing his head with the beat.

His eyes flicked to his father as he lowered the volume and gestured him to sing louder. Eliott often praised him for his voice, saying it was gifted from the angels and Louis only rolled his eyes in return.

That was one of his only insecurities; his voice. It was not deep like a man's should be, it was high and soft. He preferred playing his piano over singing any day. But with his father it was a failed battle, he sang a bit louder and smiled when Eliott joined in as well.

It was a long drive to the airport and Louis wondered why his father had to insist in picking up this man rather than him getting his own taxi. Honestly, he pitied this new neighbour. Their village was a small one and there would barely be anyone around this man's age. Most residents were either Louis' age group or his father's, only a minimum were anywhere around thirty, and the rest were children.

The arriving passengers were waiting by the exit and Louis followed after his father for he had never seen this guest before. He was dragging his feet behind Eliott when his father startled him with a shout, "Harold! My boy!"

His eyes followed to where his father was waving back and his throat parched. Shoulder length hair, sunglasses covering his eyes, white billowy shirt and blue khaki pants, LA gears on his feet. The man had an odd sense of clothing but it suited him.

"Professor! How have you been?" The man asked in his American accent and made Louis cringe, another reason to hate. Call him stereotypical, but he hated Americans.

"I have been wonderful, and don't make me remind you, it's Eliott, I am no longer your professor."

"Of course," the man smiled in a charming way before turning his face to Louis, "Carry my bag, will you? It's over there." His tone was dismissive and Louis seethed, ready to snap his neck off but one look from his father and the boy reminded himself, behave.

He will try and tolerate this man for one day, just one day, and after that he will throw away all the locks which try to shut his foul mouth.

He marched to where the two bags were and hoisted one on his shoulder, dumping them in the back seat of the truck before joining the two men again. "Will that be it, Sir?" He asked, well no one told him to shut down his sarcasm, "Are you sure you don't want me to carry you on my shoulders?"

Harry turned to him, his sunglasses now perched on his head, holding his locks behind. To Louis it seemed as if the man was looking at him for the first time now, his eyes raking over his whole body before settling back at his eyes. Green to Blue. A certain look flickering across his face, one that Louis couldn't read.

"And who is this, Eliott?" Harry asked without looking away from him.

"I told you before. Meet my son, Louis, the reason behind my receding hairline," Eliott spoke with a laugh and Louis noticed how Harry's eyes widened a fraction.

"Well, from your talks I supposed he would be someone much older. Not this kid," he pointed.

That was it. He might have not said 'kid' in a negative way but Louis couldn't stand people calling him a kid. He might be one of the only people in town who had a knowledge ranging from Beethoven to the World War. This man just scored the number one position on his hate list.

"For someone who is supposed to be smart, you surely don't know how to address a person when you first meet them," he replied with a hand at his waist and other flicking as he gestured to Harry. "Don't worry, I'll teach you all the mannerisms you lack and let you know what kids can do." He turned on his heel and ignored as his father called after him, slamming the door of truck as he sat in the backseat, refusing to indulge in the elder conversation.

He watched the two men from the glass, wishing he could just go back to reading his book. A frown birthed between his brows when he saw Harry gazing at him intensely, mouth set in a line while his eyes were displaying a sea of emotions, none of which Louis could understand.

-

How was the first chapter? Did you like the way Louis' character is defined? I hope he didn't come off as a snobbish teenager because believe me he is not. You will notice as the story progresses.

Next chapter will be in Harry's POV.

Vote and comment if you liked it. :D