365 . larry stylinson fanfiction

chapter 3

“Then why am I here?” Louis demands. “I was promised a good time.”

“You were not,” Harry frowns, slightly concerned.

Louis punches his arm. “Duh. I’m teasing, lighten up.”

“Oh.” Harry smiles. “Okay.”

There are couches in their dressing room. Louis doesn’t push Harry away this time; he sits in the corner of the couch and motions Harry down next to him. “Here,” he says firmly.

“Okay.” Harry’s happy to snuggle in, his head somewhere near Louis’ armpit. Louis doesn’t exactly cuddle him back, but he lets him as close as he wants. “So what do you do here?” he asks.

“Liam texts his girlfriend, Niall has a drink, Zayn smokes, and Aiden makes sure he looks perfect. And they do our hair and give us what we’re gonna wear or something.” Harry turns his head against Louis’ chest and closes his eyes.

“And you? What do you do.” Louis wants to run his hand through Harry’s hair.

“Try not to throw up.”

“What?” Louis frowns.

“I get really nervous. The singing, and dancing, and.”

“And?”

“Well. Y’know how it is on stage.”

“No, I don’t,” Louis says after a moment. “Until like two months ago, I did everything possible to avoid every possible mention of you guys.”

“Oh. Well. Aiden kinds makes fun of me a lot. And the other lads. I just. I dunno. I don’t like being on stage already, and I hate it when it feels like everybody’s laughing at me. So. It’s tough.”

“I won’t laugh.”

Harry keeps his eyes closed and doesn’t answer. Louis feels he’s probably busy trying not to throw up. He figures he can settle for that, especially since he gets a phone call. It’s Charlotte, his sister. He should probably talk to her.

“Hello?”

“Oh my God, you actually answered.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Thanks for the sarcasm, Lottie. Really starts off the conversation well. What’s up?”

“How are you? Haven’t you gotten any of my texts?”

“Yeah, I got them, I just didn’t answer any of them,” Louis says evasively. Harry’s looking at him curiously, so Louis answers away from the phone, “It’s my sister, Lottie.”

“Who’re you with?” she wants to know.

“Harry. From the band. And everybody else is in here, too. I’m backstage.”

“Oh. So how are you? Do you have anything expensive to send me?”

“I’m fine, really tired. I’m going out to party tonight, and then I’m going to sleep for approximately forever, which means no time for precocious little sisters. Or present-buying. Sorry. No money for it either.”

“Right, sorry. Don’t you want to know how I am?”

“Okay. How are you?”

“I’m good! I’ve got a well fit boyfriend now, his name is Luke, and he got me a necklacewith a little heart thing on it.”

“Fantastic, love, that’s great. What about your marks, keeping them up?”

“Um. Mostly,” Lottie says uneasily.