Breaking Louis Tomlinson {Larry Stylinson AU}

Chapter Nineteen

a/n: all you dirty people made me do it... but here's your smut. i'm forwarding the cost of a preist to all of you cause we obviously need to do confession

i know my updates have been slow as shit but im on break next week and you'll get plenty of them then so yay 

and one more thing: i was on twitter searching "Breaking Louis Tomlinson" and loving what you guys have tweeted about it! so keep tweeting and i'll find you guys and give you all a follow :) i'm @trippyzouis if you wanna knowww

okay dedication goes to @loustrous because i dont think ive given her one yet and that is really shitty of me?? i feel bad??

im sorry if i havent given you a dedication and you wanted one! im so forgetful--just remind me or summant

okay enjoy ur smut ily xoxo

Louis thought that maybe Harry had kissed all the air out of him.

All he remembered of the whole thing was Harry’s lips pressing against his with gentle urgency, Harry’s words ringing in his head—I love you, Louis!—and his own realization that Louis needed him more than he ever thought possible.

Louis doesn’t know love; he’s never experienced tenderness or devotion. He has always considered himself unlovable because of his sexuality and the way he treated himself, but there’s a pair of glistening green eyes and plump pink lips willing to show him just how lovely he really is.

The kiss was filled with so much promise—promise for a better tomorrow, promise to wake up next to Harry another day, promise to fix the shattered pieces of broken glass. The kiss is everything Louis didn’t know he needed up until that moment because it’s not like all the others—it had a concrete meaning.

 

It took a long time for the two of them to finally pull away—and when they did, it was chaste and slow. To Louis and Harry, there wasn’t a single soul on the crowded lane important enough to break the feeling of fondness and the overwhelming adoration.

“C’mon, Lou,” Harry said softly, brushing the tears off Louis’ cheeks and pressing his forehead to Louis’s. “We’ve got a dinner to make.”

He took Louis’ hand again and Louis rested his head against Harry’s shoulder, his heart pounding and his mouth dry. He felt extremely uncomfortable—there were people staring at them, openmouthed—but he couldn’t let himself be bothered by it.

Louis had much bigger things on his mind.

***

The dinner went better than Louis could’ve ever expected.

Zayn and Perrie were all warm smiles and happy laughs and Harry was all tender hand-squeezes and forehead kisses and Louis felt overwhelmingly happy. The food was delicious, the conversation was light, and the wine flowed a little too freely. Louis had a vague notion that Harry knew the alcohol would relax him in ways he couldn’t—so he kept it in full supply.

And yeah, Louis felt less anxious with the succulently-sweet liquid pounding through his veins. Everything became fuzzy at the edges and clearer in his line of focus; all he could think of were the people right in front of him, not the other nameless faces around the restaurant. He felt overly-giggly and slap-happy.