Behind Closed Doors (A Larry Stylinson Fan Fiction)

Chapter 44

HARRY’S P.O.V.

I really shouldn’t be this nervous to spend an evening with my dad, but I can’t help it after the last time me and Louis were with him. We’re seated in the living room while the rice finishes cooking. Once it’s nearly finished, I can put the chicken in the oven.

Dad and Louis are making small talk, but all I can do is worry about how dinner will turn out. I don’t know why I tried a new recipe tonight. I should have just made spaghetti.

“Have you guys seen Gemma recently?”

I open my mouth to speak at the same time as Louis, but as I begin to shake my head, his cheeks turn an embarrassed shade of pink and he closes his lips. I’m bewildered by his behavior, but quickly forget about it so that I can properly answer dad’s question.

“No, not in a while. Have you?”

“Unfortunately not. She’s been visiting your mother,” he rolls his eyes as he always does at the mention of mum, “but I think she’ll be back in London at the end of the week. Perhaps we can all go to lunch.”

“Sure; how long are you staying in London?”

I’m surprised that Louis is pretending to care. He’s been very civilized and I’m starting to wonder what exactly was said during their late night chat.

“I’m not positive. I’ll probably head home sometime next week. Jo has been with her family.”

It’s a shame really. I’m sure if dad’s wife were here, he wouldn’t have ever reacted so intensely.

“Tell her hello.”

He nods and smiles at me just as I hear the timer going off in the other room. I reluctantly stand up to leave my dad and Louis in a room alone.

“I’ll be back in a few. Do you want something to drink, Dad?”

“I’ll get him something, Hazz.”

Louis chimes in and I nod my head in thanks before Louis guides dad to the bar.

This is going too well.

LOUIS’ P.O.V.

“Pick your poison.”

I chuckle nervously as Des’ eyes skim over our selection of alcohol. 

“Scotch, please. Just on ice.”

I nod and find a tumbler in the cupboard. The bar is against the far wall in the living room and I know Harry can’t hear us. Now’s my chance. I make sure to fill the glass with ice and pour a considerable amount of the dark liquor before beginning my conversation. I hand it to Harry’s father and he takes a sharp swig.

“I- uh, wanted to talk to you about something... While Harry isn’t here.”

His eyes cast down to his glass and he swirls it around, filling the room with the noise of clanking ice cubes.

“Well, I assume it isn’t going to be my favorite conversation, so let’s get on with it.”

I can tell that he isn’t trying to be rude; only honest.

“Well, I know it’s all a bit new to you, but lately me and Harry’s relationship has been a little... rickety, so to speak.” I pause to gather my thoughts and ensure that Des is still listening. He is, so I continue, “We haven’t had all the support that we would like, and I’m honestly not referring to you. We’ve dealt with a lot of shit from our management and they haven’t made it easy.”

I can tell that he just wants me to get to my point and I gnaw at the inside of my cheek as I prepare myself to reach my inevitable conclusion. My palms are sweating and my pulse is racing.