Bells for Harry [Larry Stylinson]

Chapter 15 Like A Ton Of Bricks

Louis scrambled to put his clothes on as fast as he could, listening with alarm as someone outside caused pandemonium and yelled that they were going to call the police. When he'd pulled his t-shirt over his head and was about to storm out into the living room he noticed that Harry was standing still, his jeans already on but his yellow t-shirt in his hand, looking puzzled. That was when his brain decided to catch up to what was going.

"Isn't that your friend?" he asked Harry. "Zayn?"

Harry nodded, and started to put on the rest of his clothes. "What the fuck is wrong with him," he mumbled.

But then he looked at Louis, and grabbed his arm.

"L, whatever this is... whatever this was," he said, his voice sounding a little raspy. "Let's please keep it between us. Please don't tell anyone we know, I don't want things to be complicated. Please don't tell Liam."

He didn't look right. The Harry who had been in his bed seconds before and this Harry seemed like different people.

But there wasn't anything he could do. He wanted Harry. So he nodded. Harry looked relieved, and he continued putting on his clothes. He waited until he'd put on his socks to run to the door, hoping none of their neighbours would complain about the noise. As soon as he opened the door, Zayn stormed in, holding a brick and looking around wildly.

"Where is Harry?!" he demanded to know.

"I'm right here, what the fuck Z," Harry said, coming into the living room and looking at the brick his friend was holding, his eyes wide. "What the hell is that?"

"Oh," Zayn said, looking somewhat mollified and lowering the brick. "If you're fine, why didn't you pick up your phone?!" he asked, outraged.

"Well- because- I don't know, we were talking, I wasn't looking at my fucking phone!" Harry said unhappily, blushing. "It must still be on vibrate because of work. It's just a fucking missed call, Zayn, you're way overreacting."

"Don't tell me I'm overreacting!" Zayn yelled, pointing at him with the brick, but then putting it down quickly with a grimace. "Stupid thing is really heavy," he complained. "And your friend is really slow!" he told Louis angrily.

"What's going on?" Liam asked, coming through the door at that moment. "Man, you're fast!"

"Interned at a retirement home right out of college," Zayn grumbled. "You'd think those people would be slow because they're old, but you'd be surprised to see how fast a ninety-year old can get when you bring them shitty medicine. Any fucking way, Harry, why do you look like you're being held hostage right now?"

"I'm completely fine, you idiot," Harry said. "But what about your car? Wasn't it in an unsafe place?"

"He insisted we call a cab," Liam said, running a hand over his short hair and looking completely out of his depth. "Then he stopped in the middle of the desert to pick up that brick as a souvenir, and when we got here he just skipped the elevator and stormed up the stairs at 100 miles a minute, I swear I have never met anyone like him."

"And you never will again," Zayn said. "Unless you ask me out like, like I know you're dying to. Now that I guess you're not an accomplice to rape, murder or kidnapping, I might just say yes."

"He's straight...?" Louis started saying, but it trailed off into a question, because he was surprised to see that Liam, whose feelings were always completely transparent to anyone around him, did indeed look interested in that offer.

He shrugged, puzzled with that new information.

"But what about your car?" Harry repeated, crossing his arms over his chest.