Sticks and Stones - A Larry Stylinson fanfiction [boyxboy]

Chapter Four

Hello Everyone!!!!!!!!! Thanks for reading Chapter Four! Read! Comment! Fan! Vote! Love Larry Stylinson!

xoxoxo Hailey

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Louis’s P.O.V.

 

           Oh Hazza, Hazza, Hazza. What am I going to do with you? Honestly. He thought he was going to just hole everything up inside of him and that I would notice? Sure… I’m not the most observant out of the lot of us —hell, I might actually be the least observant of us all. But if it had managed to have slipped past me, one of the other lads would have caught it for sure.

           

I climbed the stairs painfully slow as Harry seemed to be walking at snail pace ahead of me. I huffed in derision. Was it not a minute ago that he was seemingly so tired and was eager to head off to bed? Bull. Shit.

Hurry up Styles,” I poked him in the back.

          

  I swore he jumped the slightest bit and nearly fell back. Note to self: don’t poke Harry on the stairs when he’s up to something, he acts like a paranoid crack addict. I chuckled to myself and he turned around to face me; his face slightly paler than usual as an oddly nervous look crossed his face.

            I wanted reach out ever so slightly and brush my fingertips against his soft pale cheeks —just to see if he was really cold, or just looked so pale in the dim light. Like flawless shaking porcelain, but I refrained, realising that randomly stroking your straight best friend’s cheek is not something you generally do.

“Sorry Lou,” he muttered. “New place is all. We don’t know what it’s like up there.”

            I nodded as I pretended to buy the awful story he was attempting to sell me. Who are you kidding Harry? I have no doubt in my mind that you aren’t the least bit concerned by the upkeep of this flawless lakeside estate. Besides, even if you were you’d have voiced your concern long ago. No, this has nothing to do with the cottage.

          

  It was pissing me off frankly. First he hides something? Now he lies about it? Talk about a double-strike there. I stared into the back of the mass of perfect curls in front of me, holding up, trying myself not to beg for him to tell me what was on his mind. But I had to wait… be patient Lou… until we were alone at least. As soon as we were alone I’d pull out the guns, and by then Harry would have nowhere to run or hide.