World Cup [larry stylinson a.u.]

20.0

"Hey!" I laugh, "Stop this! We are going to get kicked out."

"But I'm so excited," she keeps jumping, "I'm going to watch it live and it will be awesome. Maybe the camera will catch me and I'll become famous and I'll get better paychecks," she sits on the bed and gets serious, "Should I wear a cleavage? Maybe that will help me get noticed."

"You'll be standing next to me," I mumble, "Don't worry, you'll get noticed."

The next day arrives and we are inside an elevator with the man who will show us our room.

"I hate this hotel," I mumble, "It brings back bad memories."

"Hey, he probably speaks English," she whispers.

"I do speak English, ma'am," the Brazilian boy turns to us.

"Oh, sorry," she smiles, "My husband is a little grumpy today."

"Husband?" I frown at her.

"Oh, honey," she pinches my cheeks, "He is not used to the title yet. This is our honey moon," she tells the guy, who doesn't seem to care.

"Congratulations," he tells us.

"I hope the bed is big enough, you know?" she keeps talking, "We are going to fuck like rabbits tonight."

"What the hell?" I laugh at her when I see the funny look on the hotel dude's face.

"I am a virgin," she sighs, "I am a little worried but I'll think I'll be okay."

"Shut up," I roll my eyes at her.

"This is your room," the guy coughs nervously, "I'll leave you now. Just call the reception if you need anything," he says and runs away.

"You freaked him out," I accuse her.

"I don't care," she lies on the bed, "Oh, this is comfy."

"I hate this bed," I groan, "And this sofa and this room and everything."

"Hey, what's wrong with you, Grinch?"

"Nothing," I lie, "Well, something. This is the hotel where..."

"Where what?"

"Naked tourist," I say really fast.

"Oh," she frowns, "Aw, that's sweet."

"Stop saying it's sweet, it's pathetic and annoying and I regret every little thing since the day I put the first step in this country."

"Even meeting me?" she pouts.

"That was not so bad," I walk to the bathroom.

"That's actually very sweet coming from you, hubby," she yells from the room, "How much time do we have before the match starts?"

"We should be leaving in about ten minutes," I reply.

"Yes!" she celebrates, "I'm excited!"

Once we are inside of the stadium, we walk to our seats, "Fancy looking seats," she says.

"I know," I am actually surprised by our place, "Who's your friend?"

"Oh, that guy," she shrugs, "He is some dude who's in love with me or something. I can't remember what he does but he is kind of important."

"He deserves a kiss tonight," I joke.

"Ew, no!" she inspects the stadium, "This is so awesome. Look at all these people."

"It's exciting," I look around to find the man who sells beer, "Want a beer?"

"Sure. Oh my God, look!" she calls me, "The camera is over there, look pretty."

"I always look pretty," I wink, "Hey, mister! Duas cervejas," I tell him in Portuguese.

"Look who speaks Portuguese all of the sudden," she teases, "Who taught you?"

"The fucking tourist," I answer as I empty half of my cup of beer at the mention of his name.

"The tourist," she says.

"Yes, that fag," I clench my jaw.

"No, you moron," she bumps my arm, "Louis is right there," she points at our left.

"What?" I freak out, "Let's leave, please."

"I'm not going to leave," she frowns, "Are you kidding me? Be a man and just ignore him."

"Is he alone?"

"Take a look, what are you? Blind?"

"I don't want to," I still try not to turn into his direction, "Do you think he saw me? Is he with the hottie?"

"I can't spot Niall," she says as she spies on the tourist, "Looks like he is alone. Do you think they broke up?"

"What?" I quickly turn around to look at him, "He is alone, you were right," I am absolutely not getting excited about any of this because, Why would I? I got over him already.

"Go talk to him," she tells me, "Say hi or something."

"No," I dismiss her idea, "I have no dignity left to do something like that."

"Dignity is overrated," she affirms, "He is looking at you, he is looking at you," she lets me know and I get nervous, "Look beautiful."

"I always look beautiful," I mumble, "Is he still looking?"

"Turn around and look at him," she demands.

"No, I can't," I yell, "You are the one wearing sunglasses, that means you are my eyes. How does he look?"

"He looks hot," she laughs, "And very lonely. Is like he is begging for someone to go talk to him. Oh, wait," she takes a pause.

"What is it?" I freak out again.

"A guy is approaching him," she sounds serious, "Looks like they are flirting."

"You are lying," I roll my eyes and keep my focus on the court.

"No, I'm not," she sounds serious again, "The guy is squeezing the tourist's butt."

"What? No!" I yell and I can't help myself, I turn around to look at the tourist.

"Got you," she laughs. What a slut.

When I turn around, our eyes meet. He is staring at me and I'm staring at him. My heart starts beating faster and I feel the exact same thing I felt the last time I saw him. He shyly waves at me and I wave back with a smile. God, what the hell happened to my pride?

I guess I'm not as over him as I thought I was.

---

[SHAMELESSLY SELF-PROMOTING: Hi there, guys! I just started a new Larry book called "It Started with a Selfie". Would you mind giving it a shot? Thank you for all the love you've been giving me with this story by the way. You make me very happy every time I update :) Ily, Seb.]