Photographs. //Larry Stylinson// {Co-written with @ilovehazza19}

Chapter Three.

Harry's POV:

"Hare-bear! Get up! I'm not going to tell you again!" My mum's exasperated voice called from outside my door, followed by two consecutive hits to my door with her fist. She was too noisy. Everything was too noisy and I just wanted to bury my head under my pillow and go back to sleep.

"Alright, alright!" I groaned back. With a heavy sigh, I sat myself up in bed, and reluctantly threw the covers off myself, instantly missing the inviting heat that radiated off my sheets. With another yawn and a stretch, I was stumbling towards my bathroom, taking notice that I was ten minutes off in my morning routine. I better hurry. After showering quickly, not even waiting for the water to heat up, I was brushing my teeth, and strapping my backpack over my shoulders to trudge down the stairs.

"Someone finally decided to join the world," My mum greeted me, pouring a ridiculous amount of creamer into her coffee cup.

"It's Monday. Give me a break," I rolled my eyes, and picked up the milk carton from the fridge, holding it up to my lips to drink.

"Harry Edward, use a cup," My mum warned, stirring her coffee and peering up at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, yeah," I waved her off, setting the milk back in the fridge since I had already drank some anyways.

"So, any big plans today at school?" My mum asked, her voice much too perky and cheery for hours before eight in the morning.

"No, just the usual. I'm probably going to Niall's after school today, though," I told her, despite the fact that I was pretty much at Niall's house every day after school anyways.

"Alright, well I work late tonight, so just be home before me. I should be back by nine," She answered, now distracted by something on her phone's screen.

"Okay, mum. No problem," I smiled at her, noticing suddenly how exhausted she looked. She said nothing, as she hurriedly snapped her long brown hair back into a loose ponytail, and started typing at her phone.

"I gotta get going, kiddo. They need me at the office. I love you!" She said suddenly, scooping her keys from the counter and shuffling out the door.

"Alone at last," I mumbled to myself, hating that I had to go to school soon. It was strange, but I rather liked to be alone. Niall was pretty much my only friend at school. I wasn't exactly bullied, more so ignored; I was basically a nobody. But to be honest, I liked it that way. It was a pretty sweet alternative to being bullied, like how I was back in elementary school, and junior high respectively.

I had heard every name in the book, 'fag', 'queer', 'ugly bitch', and I was no longer affected by words. I was immune, to say the least. When high school rolled around, everything suddenly became easier, while managing to get harder at the same time. Now that all my peers and classmates had about a million other people and things to focus on, I was a nobody; faded to the background with just Niall by my side and a few acquaintances every now and then. I was happy and aware that the worst part of my life was in the past, and I was content with keeping to myself. I had quietly been battling the subject of my sexuality for as long as I could remember, and the only person who knew of my conflict was Niall. We've been best friends ever since the fourth grade, when both of us were forced to take piano lessons by our mum's, and since then my life has been a little more bearable. He was hilarious and helpful, and always knew the right thing to say at the right moments.