Back For You (Larry Stylinson AU)

37 - So Utterly and Completely Besotted

AN - I think this is quite short, I can't really tell, but to be honest I am so proud of myself for updating at all! Three days in a row now! Woo!

I really hope you guys like it, I have kind of re-planned the entire ending just today, and the ending i was gonna do is scrapped and it's completely different and only me and one other person knows what's gonna happen now. oooh exciting ;)

If you do like it, please vote/follow/comment if you like, it means the world and I am literally choking right now because I have OVER 1000 VOTES HOW IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE!?!?! Thank you so, so, so much to everyone who votes/has voted/may vote in the future, and to everyone who has fanned me it means so much, and for every single one of my comments! I do try to reply to every single one, but if I miss you by accident I'm sorry!

This chapter is suppose to go with Hate That I Love You - Ne-Yo and Rihanna but I can't get the link at the moment. Oh and the last chapter went with With Or Without You - U2, I forgot to put the link but it's up now :)

I love you all, all of my lovely sweetums! :)

Time is such an important part of society. The entire world revolves around time. Time is one of the only constant things in the world.

Is the present what's left when you take away what has already happened, and what is yet to happen?  Then it seems to vanish in an instant.  Are future events completely unreal?  Or are they just the things we can't know yet?

Bearing in mind how the whole world balances on time and timeliness; the fact that Harry was sitting cooped up in Niall’s spare room, curtains closed, no idea of the actual time, seemed ridiculous.

The reality in fact, what that he was hiding himself away. Away from reality, away from time. Away from the reality where the one person he needed to love him, the one person he was and ever would be in love with. Away from time, because if he was away from time it would be like they were never apart. He sat, hidden away, thinking about a possibly unreal future involving maybe Louis, maybe solitude.

So as Harry holed himself away in Niall’s spare room, he lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, clutching his phone in his left hand and whiling away the hours tracing the paint strokes on the ceiling with his tear drowned eyes.

He wasn’t entirely sure if waiting for Louis to call was the best thing, because if Louis asked him to leave then why would he call later that day? Or the next day? Harry really wasn’t sure what day it was…

“Harry, can I come in?” Niall asked softly from outside the door, knocking on the doorframe.

Harry groaned.

“Please Harry,” Niall asked again, worry clear in his voice, “You came home at 11 last night, sobbing, and I need to know what’s wrong. You haven’t left your room in twenty-two hours…”

Harry groaned again.

“At least let me bring you some food?” Niall sighed, giving up.

There was a silence from Harry, so Niall opened the door and carried in the bowl of cheesy pasta he had made Harry, and a glass of apple juice.

“Ok?” Niall asked, as he placed the bowl and glass on the bedside table, looking at Harry sprawled on his back, tear tracks dried on his face, clutching his phone to his chest in a death vice.

“Dunno.” Harry muttered, “No, not really.”

Niall sat down at the foot of the bed, cross legged, “Wanna talk about it?”

Harry groaned once again, but sat up slowly anyway, not letting go of his phone, “I tried to kiss Louis.”

Niall spluttered, “You what?”

“I tried to kiss him.” Harry repeated, voice slower than usual, and monotonous and exhausted from staying up all night and just sitting clutching his phone, “He was gonna kiss me back – he was, I know he was. But then he let his brain over-think, or maybe just realise the truth – and he backed out. He backed away. He told me to leave, and I think I’ve ruined everything.”

Niall exhaled slowly, “Have you called him?” Harry shook his head, “Have you tried?” Harry shook his head again, “Well try then. Now. Try and call him.”

Harry looked up at him, wide eyed and panicked, “I can’t!”

“Why not?” Niall asked, crossing his arms stubbornly.

“Because,” Harry paused and eyed his phone, “Because…”

“Exactly!” Niall exclaimed, “Just give him a call, you seem to forget that you mean a lot to him too…”

Harry sighed, looked at Niall again quickly for reassurance, then unlocked his phone and clicked on Louis’ contact.

“You’re sure?” Harry checked again.

Niall nodded, and Harry pressed the dial button.

Harry held the phone gingerly to his ear, listening to the electronic ringing, breathing heavily with nerves until there was the familiar click and:

“This person is not available, please leave a mess-” Harry hung up before the automated lady could finish.

“Answer phone?” Niall asked, wincing.

“Yeah.” Harry nodded.

“Well,” Niall sighed, “You can try again later, yeah? He may have just been in the shower.”

Harry nodded slowly.

“Well I’m going out now, to meet up with Rhianne, but I’ll see you later yeah?”

“Yeah…”

~-~

After seventeen more times reaching Louis’ answer phone, Harry gave up. He sent a quick text saying:

Hi Lou, I’m sorry.

And as Harry stumbled down the stairs into the kitchen, not bothering to turn the lights on despite the fact it was too dark to see further than three foot ahead, Harry wished that he didn’t love Louis.

Harry hated how Louis just had to smile and his entire world would brighten up, and it would take all of his might to repress his smile by even a smidge. Hated that Louis just had to press his fingers to Harry’s arm and he was off floating in some perfect place with Louis near and close and touching. He hated that Louis had the perfect touch, and how he knew exactly what to do to make Harry weak.

He hated it and he really just wished that Louis had no effect on him; he just wished that he wasn’t so utterly and completely besotted.

And as he tripped into the kitchen he reached, blinded by the darkness, for Niall’s Fosters six-pack and ran back upstairs again, so wallow and hate and love so much it hurts.