World Cup [larry stylinson a.u.]

9.0

THE HOTTIE

“Boyfriend?” he raises an eyebrow to Louis.

“Yeah, boyfriend. Why?” I ask with an unfriendly tone.

“Just asking,” he looks so pissed and I’m glad I made the choice of making this lie up, “Since when?”

“Um,” I turn to the tourist and look at his reaction for the first time. He looks as confident as he used to, “How long has it been, bubu?” I ask him, getting a genuine smile from him.

“We are actually celebrating our five months anniversary today,” he tells the guy, “How could you forget?” he gives me an annoyed look.

“Sorry. You know I’m not good with numbers.”

“Didn’t you say you came to Brazil by yourself?” he asks me. He does obviously not believe the story.

“I surprised him today,” Louis interrupts, “I’m his five months gift.”

“You could have gotten him something better,” he replies and I seriously feel like punching him in the face. The tourist looks hurt but he shakes it off right away.

“I can’t think of a better gift,” I say not taking my eyes off of the hottie for a second. I try to look as threatening as I can.

“Louis,” he stares at him, “Can we have a word? In private.”

The tourist turns to me and I can swear he looks scared, “Do you mind?” he asks me.

“As you want,” I tell him with a smile, “I’ll be right there.”

I stare at them as they talk for a while. I can’t tell if they are arguing or if everything is okay because I do not see the tourist’s face, only Niall’s and that guy is very good at showing no expression. I wonder what happened between them. Looks like some kind of an abusive relationship or something. I start to think if I really did well at pretending to be his boyfriend. I hope it doesn’t confuse the tourist or something. I want nothing to do with him. At all. Never.

I start to get anxious because they are still talking and I’m just standing there like an idiot. What is taking them so long? The tourist turns around and I can tell he is smiling. What is he smiling about? He probably told him the truth already and I’m just embarrassing myself.

“Hey,” I decide to walk to them, “All good?”

“It’s all right, mate,” the Irish answers and every time I hear him talk, I dislike him more, “Okay, I’ll go grab my stuff. See you two around Rio maybe.”

“Good,” Louis, I mean the tourist, answers with a smile. I can tell by the look on his eyes that he still has feelings towards that asshole, “Have a nice flight.”

The hottie walks away but turns around a few meters later, “Harry,” he calls me, “Don’t let him eat that much. He obviously gained weight since the last time I saw him.”

“Asshole,” I mumble and I turn around to look at the tourist, “Are you trembling?”

“Am not,” he lies.

“Yes, you are.”

“Can we go back to the room? I think I need a nap.”

“No, you don’t,” he is clearly affected by the situation, “We are going out now.”

“I’ll go change,” he sighs, “Your clothes definitely makes me look fat. These jeans are way too tight. How do you even breathe?”

I frown at him, “Are you seriously going to let that douche affect you this much?”