"Harry has always been better than me," laughs Styles' older sister, Juno, "He's always had more friends, more attention is drawn to him but I wouldn't change it for a thing. He's golden, he needs to shine and outshine everyone. He's always gonna be my baby brother, just gonna have to share 'em with the world."

Most of Boston University see Harry Styles as the school spirit embodied into one being, as opposed to the giant Molly the Muskrat mascot, Harry doesn't need a brightly coloured costume to show his spirit. Styles' life behind the jersey consists of his friends, family, dealing with the well-known bad cellphone service around campus and attending classes like any other student. Though, when Styles isn't on the field, he speaks at school events and reads to children at the local elementary school.

"Harry is happy!" Timmy, a young boy, age 4 with one of his teeth missing grins. "He talks in voices, deep like this. Or squeaky like this." Elizabeth, a young lady with a little cast on her right leg is more in love with Harry than anyone else. "Harry lets me sit with him on the big couch," Elizabeth gestures to the multicoloured grandpa-like chair in the school library. "I fell down a hill because I was being chased by a bee. Harry told me that bees are nice and I shouldn't be mean to them. But I still am, don't tell him that."

"It's weird," Styles says, it's Sunday in the middle of January. He sips on hot chocolate in the University library. "All the attention. I remember feeling like I couldn't mess up or else I'd screw the whole team. But, I think it's different now. I'm not on edge anymore, like I can mess up, trip on the field or miss the ball. My team made an environment where I am comfortable enough to mess up and keep going." Styles reminisce about the memories of him as a freshman. "They'll always have my back."

"I can't say I've never thought of it," Styles said when asked about his professional title in the future. "I can't say I'd hate it either. I guess it is what it is. If it happens, it happens, if it doesn't, then there are plenty of other things I could do. I've always wanted to be a baker on television." Styles is known for being quite the cook in the Alpha Chi Omega fraternity house that he shares with a select few members of the Muskrats. "I make a mean red velvet cake, everyone would be surprised that these hands are good for things other than football." For those who've tried Styles' famous red velvet would know. The others, well, they can only dream.

There's no denying Harry is going to make it big one day, all his peer's memories will be in the past and become his origin story. After all, stars always shine, fires always burn and nothing can stop the strength of a magnet, and when all three of those are put together, they form the golden, enthralling, unstoppable force of our captain of the Boston Muskrats. We're all here for the ride, sitting in our seats, munching on popcorn and watching the world sit and wait for their next hurdle, a man packed with charisma and ambition. Good luck, world, here comes Harry Styles, your next touchdown, and you're not ready for him.

Harry didn't realize he was crying until a tear landed on the newspaper, over the last sentence of the article. He sniffles, wiping his nose with his sleeve. He had no clue Louis talked to his coach, or Liam, much less his own family and little Timmy and Elizabeth from the elementary school. Even after Harry treated him, Louis remained kind, Harry partly expected Louis to badmouth him in the article. He had every chance to, his emotions should have weighed more on anger and he could've channelled it to ruin Harry's reputation in the school paper—but he didn't. He was too good, too good for Harry and too good for the world.






April was over. May had just finished and all month, Harry has been busy with exams and football practice. It's been two months and Liam still isn't talking to him, just glaring at him from across the field, they just played a game last week, it was the finals and they won. After the last buzzer cut, Harry turned to the bleachers out of habit but the one blue-eyed boy wasn't there.

It was officially the end of the second semester and the beginning of summer break. The campus was empty, students going home for the summer. Today was Sunday, Louis worked at the library on Sundays. This time, Zayn, the redhead, and Liam were nowhere to be seen so only the few who attended summer semester courses were present to see Harry burst into the library.

Ms. Matilda is utterly shocked to see Harry barge into the library. She glares at him from behind her glasses. "Excuse me—"

"Where is he?"

"Pardon?"

"Louis Tomlinson, where is he?" Harry quickly looks around, ready for Liam to punch him square in the face again. He hasn't spoken to Louis since the bookstore, he's only watched him from afar until now. He needed to talk to him again because Harry's given this a lot of thought.

Now that school was done until September, and the team played and won the finals and would be prepping for the championship, Harry was ready to quit the football team and work for their baby. He's spent his days nose-deep in textbooks, and his late nights rereading Louis' favourite book. He loved to see Louis' little underlines or highlights in some paragraphs, he was even excited to see Louis' handwriting. He knew deep down he wasn't ready for a baby, hell, he was only 22. But he was going to make this work, he was going to raise his baby with Louis, and not let the boy overwork himself. He was going to be as good as Louis has been to him.

Ms. Matilda squints. "Louis isn't here."

"He works on Sundays," Harry stated flatly. "He's always here on Sundays."

"Louis has asked for an extended vacation."

You Put the Sun in Sunday; larry stylinson (bottom!louis) [completed]Where stories live. Discover now