You Put the Sun in Sunday; larry stylinson (bottom!louis) [completed]

8

Six days go by. Louis continues on with his life, focusing on his school and working at the library. He gets money in the mail from his parents and he spends it on a new blanket. It was winter, sometimes the dormitory heaters didn't work and Louis would shiver all night. The blanket, Liam sees and offers Louis one of his that he doesn't use anymore. Louis declines politely, knowing Liam's dormitory is far worse in the winter season.

Sunday rolls around, Louis shows up at the library at 10. Harry never shows, Louis leaves the library at 3 in the afternoon. Hungry, his feet had fallen asleep and worst of all, he was lonely.

One can expect the surprise, most importantly the rage Louis has when he sees Harry standing outside his dorm door. At first, Louis doesn't say a word, he shakes off the snow and unlocks the door. Harry doesn't speak, he simply stands there in his shorts and hoodie. If Louis weren't so mad, he would tell him to dress warmer. His presence is enough for Louis to shiver, he clenches his book tighter and he gets into his room, about to shut the door, but a foot slots between the corner. "Please."

Louis was far too weak to the softness in Harry's tone, he was far too weak for Harry. He releases the door, and steps back, dropping his things on his bed, sighing softly when the contents spill out. At least his roommate wasn't there, it would have been awkward to see Harry, star player and captain of the football team to step into Louis' tiny, messy dorm. There were books in stacks all over the floor, Louis had been saving up money for a shelf, and a few pairs of clothes scattered.

Harry moves slowly, closing the door and carefully sitting next to Louis, "I didn't show up today."

A scoff sounds immediately after. "I know," Louis scoots further away, by his pillows and watching the snowfall outside. The light pours in, just dimly from behind the grey clouds. He could burst into tears now. Harry has thrown him into a whirlpool. Louis couldn't climb out, he was far too deep into Harry's force. He loved him too much to save himself the heartache any longer.

"Look at me." A small request but it takes a large portion of Louis' own self worth to complete it. Looking into Harry's eyes had Louis offering every little piece of his heart. "Louis," Harry leans close, whispering softly. His eyes fall to Louis' lips.

Louis' lip wobbles. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you that I," he breathes deeply, "I'm just stupid and gay and you hate—" In his fit of overwhelming emotions with the added bonus of a dull ache in his temples, Louis isn't sure why he doesn't knock Harry's teeth in when he kisses him.

It was a wave of passion in the form of electricity. Louis' never felt something so soft, so kissable before. His own lips must be chapped from sleep and his face is still wet with tears. A shiver runs up his spine, as Harry leads the kiss to become eager. Louis lets out a quiet whine, drawing closer. Heat pools in his stomach and wills himself to not pull away for a breath. It's everything he's ever wanted but on a roller coaster. It was Harry, Harry who held him captive under his radiance.

Louis grows weak, falling back to the wall and letting Harry take everything. His big hands lightly roam Louis' body, over the thick wool of his sweater and the small of his waist. Harry's lips were so smooth, and perfect, better than Louis had dreamed.

He loved him, he loved him and he was finally kissing him. The wait, the dread, the embarrassment all felt worth it at that moment. All the longing glances, the warmth in his chest whenever Harry would smile at him—it all made sense. Louis whines louder, humming into the kiss and his fingers slowly reach out to brush Harry's shoulder before he's pushed away rather roughly.

The green-eyed man is panting, gaze wide and set on Louis' lips. "I—I can't do this."

The entirety of Louis' hope crumbles. "Do what?" Louis mirrors his breathing. His lips were tingling, almost numb from hunger.

"This," Harry stands abruptly, almost knocking into the night table. "Us." He points between them.

"You kissed me," Louis emphasizes with a deep frown, the water pooling in his eyes once again. Harry initiated the kiss, he leaned closer, and he looked at Louis' lips first. "You showed up here."

"No, no," Harry shakes his head repeatedly. "I mean, I did come here, fuck." Harry staggards back, stumbling over a pair of pants and a backpack "I didn't kiss you."

"You think I kissed you?" The confusion is audible in his tone.

Harry's brain scrambles for words, ignoring the voice in his head telling him to kiss Louis again. He couldn't kiss him, he didn't kiss him and they wouldn't kiss again. Harry doesn't know why he showed up here in the first place, he doesn't know why he asked Liam for Louis' dormitory and dorm number.

"You practically did!" Harry raises his voice as if Louis couldn't hear him but the boy did. Louis heard him loud and clear, he also heard his own heart breaking. "With all the glances, fuck, you know how you look at me." Harry pulls at his hair, he had no self-control when it came to Louis and that was dangerous. "You... The way you wouldn't stop, you came to every practice, you didn't give me space, you wouldn't leave me alone." His eyes have never been so cold, goosebumps rise on Louis' arms. "You made me kiss you." His tone is harsh, proving just how he truly feels about Louis.

Harry made Louis seem desperate, a part of him was, but he drew Louis in like a leech who was sucking the fun and life out of his existence. Louis was just distressed and he wanted Harry. Was it a crime to want the one person he loved? It must be if Harry is treating him this way. He was being punished for kissing back the man he loved.

"Who am I to you?" Louis' words are soft and they wash over Harry's heated skin. Louis was stupid, like a failure. He must be deluded, thinking Harry reciprocates his feelings, but he must've—the smallest part of Harry cared about Louis more than a friend, but he was too blind to see it. Harry's next words snap every piece of Louis' delicate heart in two.

"Nothing." The teen locks his gaze with Louis', watching the tears threaten to spill over. "If anything, you're a burden."

Louis didn't want to cry again. He didn't want to give Harry the pleasure of seeing him weak. "You're lying." His voice cracks, sob on the tip of his tongue.

"Am I?" Harry retorts, clenching his fists by his side, his shoulders squared. "I don't care about you, Louis. I am not attracted to you in any way, I'd have to be deaf, blind and hopeless to even consider you an option." His words sting worse than a bee. He goes closer to Louis, cornering him, trapping him. The smallest sliver of Harry knew he was lying straight through his teeth, he was just saying these words to hurt Louis. Though now, Harry thinks he took it too far. The barriers around his heart start to crack when Louis begins crying. Harry reaches for him, stepping forward and jumping at the sound of Louis' wretched voice.

"Leave," Louis cries into his hands. He sobs loudly when he feels a warm hand on his arm. "Get out, Harry!" He wanted to be alone. He was alone. He wanted to be left alone.

Harry was right, Louis nearly convinced himself he was not lonely, but now he thinks he is. But, in that one moment where Harry's lips were on his, nothing else mattered. The yearning, the feeling, the desperation cooled into his hands and exploded into a firework of just Harry.

Harry huffs his vulnerable side hiding once again. "Gladly." He turns around, hands shaking and swinging the door open. He's met with a tall lean dark-haired man with a camera strapped over one of his shoulders.

Zayn freezes, looking over Harry's shoulder at Louis who was in silent tears on his bed surrounded by books and pencils. He sets his gaze on Harry but the latter is pushing it out of the way and almost running down the hallway. He takes the stairs down, leaving a heartbroken, helplessly in-love Louis behind.