Larry Stylinson One Shots

Not Over You.

It was eight in the evening when his phone started to ring. He was sitting in the middle of some tiny restaurant in London. It was Italian, and some violin music was playing in the background. He was supposed to be on a date; he was supposed to be moving on. When the other guys kept texting him, it was hard to forget why he was out in the first place.

From: Liam

Hey, congrats on the tweet man! It beat out the president of the U.S.!

From: Niall

Hey, Harry! Did you see the tweet!? Larry lives on man!

He just kept ignoring the messages, but they kept coming faster and faster. He finally just shut his phone off. He was here to try to get over things and have a life. He couldn't dwell forever. But, as hard as he tried, his mind always wondered back to Louis. His date had yet to show, and he had too much time to think.

Louis. He loved everything about him. He loved the way his name rolled off his tongue. He loved the way he couldn't cook; he would burn everything in the house trying though. He loved the way he cared so much about his hair, and the way he had seventeen pairs of Vans. He loved his obsession with stripes, and the cute way his accent made his sass sound even sassier. Everything about him was perfect.

Well, everything but the fact that he wasn't dating Harry Styles.

Not anymore, at least.

Things were so great this time last year. They were together, in love. They shared a bed, and Harry woke up happy every morning seeing Lou's sweet face beside him. Their days were long, spent together on the bus, watching movies, or at rehearsal, acting like a proper couple. Their nights were longer, spend in Harry's four poster bed, or Louis' bunk on the bus, tending to each other's hormonal impulses. He thought back on his favorite night with Louis almost two years ago, from when they went to Niagara Falls, and spent the day up on the boardwalk there. Then, they went back to the hotel and stayed up until three in the morning, talking and then making love. It was their first time.

Now, here he was, quite some time later, sitting in an Italian restaurant he didn't even know the name of, waiting for some guy. This didn't feel right. He should be waiting on Louis, not anyone else in the world. No one would ever be good enough, no one was Louis.

But, he had to get over him sometime. It was getting too hard to live with him on tour and see him with Eleanor, when Harry didn't have anyone himself to take his mind off of the pain. He had to at least try to fix this messed up life. He had to.

But why was it so damn hard?

He turned his phone on to check the time, and it didn't stop buzzing for a solid minute. Texts kept rolling in, then tweets, then Yahoo notifications. All about Louis' tweet beating President Obama's. All about him and Louis. He remembers the night the tweet happened.

===========

"Haz! Come back here!" Louis yelled. He chased him around the sofa, grabbing at the peanut butter. "I want that," He whined between giggles.

"You can't have it until you kiss me!" Harry tumbled over the back of the black couch, knocking pillows off. Louis followed, falling on top of Harry, their noses only centimeters apart. Louis leaned down slowly, exhaling. Harry savored the cold, spearmint smell of Louis' breath; it was one of the million things he had always loved about him. Their lips brushed for a fraction of a second before Louis snatched the peanut butter out of Harry's hand. He shot up, laughing, and ran to the kitchen to finish his sandwich. Harry sighed and got up, walking into the kitchen and wrapping his arms around Lou from behind. He nuzzled his nose into Louis' neck and sighed at him.