fireworks // larry stylinson {COMPLETE}

one

What's up ladies? While I have your attention: before you begin this book, please follow as I have already written a few Larry fics, unfinished, and have a ton more in the process of being written, so if you enjoy this book please direct yourself to some of my other ones! Feel free to vote, comment, and share! All the love :)

harry's pov

I woke up extremely hungover from the night before. I always had this problem, I drank some water, or so I thought, to prevent the hangover from coming, but it still did. They were truly some of the worst times of my life, but they were just reminders of how much fun I had had the night prior. I remember my first proper hangover. It was after the first college party I had been to, my freshman year at this University. I had gotten ridiculously hammered, apparently had a threesome with a couple of blonde girls, and then passed out with them. But I didn't remember half of it.

Of course, I heard this all from my dumbass of a roommate so it all could have been made up from his own hungover mind. Jacob had always been quite the story teller. He could go to the grocery for a bag of chips and come back with 6 boxes of pop tarts with some horrendous reasoning behind the reason of why he bought them, none of which were ever true, so why should I believe him about the story of my apparent threesome? But then again, I've done some crazy drunken things.

I walked down the hallway, scanning the different signs on the walls. Debate Club! Football Games! Theater! That's what I was here for. Theater was my passion and this would be my second year studying it. In high school, I was always in choir, and my junior and senior years, I joined our theater program, and with me joining - 17 other girls in my grade, or the year younger. It was interesting how it worked, but I couldn't say I didn't enjoy it. The attention gave me the rush of a lifetime.

I finally found my dorm number, 382, and opened up the door. It was unsurprisingly, already unlocked, because Jacob was always inside. If he wasn't, and it was a weekday, I'd be shocked. I walked in to see him pinning down a blonde girl on his bed, on the left side of the room.

"Dude! Occupied!" Jacob jerked up his head and shouted, rolling his eyes.

"No rubber band on the door, no concern. Just keep it in your pants until 5 at least please?" I said. It had been kind of an unspoken agreement that if me or Jacob, usually Jacob was to have a girl or guy in the dorm, there would be a rubber band on the door. Kind of a childish way of signaling the other, but would you rather leave a hair tie on the doorknob or have your friend walk in on you inches deep in some guy?

"Might be hard Haz, you might want to leave." He said, the blonde underneath him, who was surprisingly still completely clothed stayed quiet for a moment but giggled a bit when Jacob began to talk.

"Or join." She whispered, still giggling.

"Absolutely not." I said, loud enough for the both of them to hear me, and sat down on my own bed, on the right side of the room. The blonde rolled her eyes and mouthed something along the lines of your loss. But I though I was doing just fine without the 3:30 threesome on a Wednesday.

"Seriously Harry, can you go?" Jacob said again, now sat up with his shirt off and his crotch still against the girl's.

Then the girl sat up, "No, ruined now." She rolled her eyes again, being quite bitchy this whole first encounter actually. She stood up, pushing Jacob off of her lap. She whispered something in his ear that made him clearly give a turned on shudder. "Oh please don't go, I can get rid of him, I swear." He said, pointing to me.

"I'm not going anywhere." I said, not looking away from my phone, where I was scrolling through Instagram.

"Dammit Harry." Jacob stood up and said as the blonde slipped on her brown sandals and walked out the door, holding her purse close to her. "Do you really have to be such a dick? How sexually deprived are you?"

"Not my fault she wanted to leave." I mumbled to him, with a smug smile on my face that I felt come across me without thinking.

"Kind of is."

"You'll get some other girl, there's a new one every week."

"You are such an ass, Haz." He rolled his green eyes that were so similar to mine and slipped his white t shirt over his blonde hair. "Do you want to go get food tonight? I have no classes."

"I could go for some frozen yogurt."

"You're so gay." He said, knowing it wouldn't actually offend me, since it was often a joke between us.

"It happens, it happens." I laughed a bit. "But I don't know what all I can do, pretty sure I have a rehearsal tonight."

"Maybe you should just skip it. You have a rehearsal like 4 times a week, when are we supposed to hang out?" Jacob asked.

"When you come see the show in a couple weeks." I chuckled at him. I was involved in the theater program at the University of California, and it was quite a commitment. It took lots and lots of time to be able to do it, especially for some of the people who weren't majoring in theater, unlike me. Last year, my freshman year of college, the University had put on a very fun performance of The Wizard of Oz. I danced around that stage in a scarecrow costume every other day for 3 months until the actual performances came, and every second of it was thrilling. The musical performance we would be doing this year was called Little Shop of Horrors. It was apparently surprisingly unknown to a lot of the students here. I guess it should have skipped me, like it did my entire generation, but I recognized the name of the play. I had had my heart set on the kinky, crazy dentist, and after my audition, I got it. It was a big accomplishment for me. But rehearsal has been exhausting.

"If that's what friends do, then I guess I will. But can we please go get some food today? Will skipping one practice really kill you?" He whined at me.

"I'm a main character, Jay," I had nicknamed him a long time ago, "Can't miss out. Friday night, I promise we'll hang out."

"It's labor day, you better. The festival happening is supposed to be huge and you wouldn't go last year." He groaned.

"Which is why we're going Friday." I smiled. "Promise."