you've got me smiling in my sleep ~ larry stylinson

A/N: OKAY I'M INSANE. Literally crazy. Twelve hours of my life and 12.6k words later, here we are!
This wasn't supposed to get this insane, tbh. I just got this idea and I wanted to write some drabble, but then one thing led to another and now we've got this monster of a one shot here and idek I'm sorry.
Hopefully, you guys like it? It's a bit different, a bit supernatural, a bit weird, a bit quirky. Overally it's something totally unique and I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing.
Ugh. I don't know. All I know is that I really want you guys to like this, and I realllly enjoyed writing this so I might be biased and it'd be really embarrassing if it turned out bad and I'm rambling I'm sorry I'll stop.
Let me know what you think please! I always get scared when I post new things. I'm very anxious right now. Hahahaha comment if you can with your thoughts! Aaaand ummm I think that's about it!
OH! I took the title from "Catch Me" by Demi Lovato, which is a beautiful song and I really want you guys to listen to it, I'll post a link to the right.
AND ALL HARRY POTTER QUOTE CREDIT GOES TO J.K. ROWLING.
This story is dedicated to @Nyctophilic for being such an amazing person, and for all of her support <3
I don't own anything or anyone, blah blah.
Okay, NOW I'm done. Happy reading! xxxx

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you’ve got me smiling in my sleep

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The room is white, and much too shiny. So shiny, in fact, that Louis squints when he opens his eyes for the first time, letting out a small groan and throwing his arm over his face.

He immediately hates it.

He sits up slowly, gradually opening his eyes as they adjust to the rays currently beleaguering his face. He then comes to his senses and gasps, jumping to his feet, because he's completely and utterly naked.

He looks around rapidly, spinning in a circle with a hand covering his crotch.  But then, he slowly comes to a stop, because he realizes that no one’s there to see him.

Louis’ eyebrows pull together in confusion, trying to figure out where he is while simultaneously wishing -- really wishing -- that he had some clothes to put on. Strangely, the second the thought crosses his mind, he turns to see a pair of boxers, jeans and a t-shirt laid out on the floor, as if waiting for him.

He lets out a sharp exhale, scratching his nose as he walks over to put the clothes on. Is this some kind of dream? This seems very Harry Potter-esque, like, the part in the last book where Harry “dies” and sees Dumbledore in his subconscious.

Once he zips up his jeans, he looks down to see the very Harry Potter book in question sitting on the floor at his feet, and he gasps. He bends down and squints at it, poking it to make sure that it’s real.

It’s very much solid.

He looks around again, wondering how it could've possibly appeared like that and who put it there, and again, there’s no one present.

When he looks back down at the book, it’s opened to a page: page seven hundred and twelve, to be exact. And there are a few lines that are highlighted in bright pink.

“ ‘I feel great at the moment, though,’ said Harry, looking down at his clean, unblemished hands. ‘Where are we, exactly?’

‘Well, I was going to ask you that,’ said Dumbledore, looking around. ‘Where would you say that we are?’ “

And then a little farther down, “ ‘Well, where do you think we are?’ asked Harry, a little defensively.

‘My dear boy, I have no idea. This is, as they say, your party.’ “