neighbors ➸larry stylinson

But this time was different. When I walked into school, my eyes immediately noticed him. The familiar tall figure with brown curls. He was standing in the corner, his arms wrapped around a textbook. He had a Rolling Stones t shirt on, and it looked quite nice on him. I admired him from afar, not even noticing when somebody pushed me out of the way. I just stood there as people zoomed past me, waiting for the boy to move, to say something. But he sat there, staring blankly. And that was when I realized he was staring at me.

I locked eyes with him, finally able to see that his were a sparkling shade of green. He looked back at me with such deep intensity it made my hands shake. We stood there, staring at each other, and it gave me time to examine his face. Although the color, his eyes were dull and filled with pain. There were slight bags under them, which I could see clearly on his pale, pale skin.

And the ways his lips were turned down into this permanent frown, just like mine. But then they opened, and I watched him speak to me. I could hear him clearly as the hallway was now empty except for the occasional student walking by.

"What do you want?" He asked, not breaking eye contact with me.

"I dunno," I mumbled, my cheeks burning. But what I really wanted was to know him. The look on his face reminded me so much of myself, of the depression that followed me throughout the dreaded days here.

He took a step closer and I backed up. He raised his eyebrow in confusion and I shook my head. He smirked and began to walk more towards me as I backed into the wall.

"What's your name?" His raspy voice sent chills through my body.

"Louis." I took a deep breath and stared at the ground, waiting for him to do something.

"I'm Harry," He didn't smile, but he didn't frown. There was still a large distance between us as we stood there awkwardly, staring each other down. I couldn't read his face anymore. Right when he noticed me, he seemed to erase all the sadness from his face.

"I'm your next door neighbor," I blurted, licking my lips quickly.

"I know," He said, a smirk playing on his full lips. I couldn't help but stare at them and wonder what it was like to have mine on them.

But part of me felt like this was some joke. Nobody had ever spoken to me in forever, unless they were insulting me.

I didn't understand why they hated me so much. I was gay. That wasn't an insult. That was a way of life, who I liked. For some reason, girls didn't make me feel the way guys did. Especially this boy right here, who's mysterious demeanor filled me with so many questions, yet so much confusion.

"How?" I asked warily.

"I've seen you walk out of your house, Louis."

"Oh," I nodded, my cheeks burning. Then I felt someone gripping my arm, and I whipped around to face them.

"Get your hands off of me!" I screamed, ripping my arm away. Their fingertips left a burning trail on my bruises.

"Don't speak to me like that Mr. Tomlinson." I took a deep breath through my nose and looked up at my principal. Why was it that everyone was taller than me?

"Sorry," I muttered, rubbing my arm.

"You boys need to get to class," He instructed, writing a note for each of us to give to our teachers. Then he sent me one final stern look and walked away.

I was just about to walk to class when I heard Harry's voice behind me.

"Do you always do that?" He wondered.