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

4

It was Sunday. The first Sunday of Louis' assignment for writing the football headline. Louis wakes up at eight in the morning, alone in his dorm room. He switches off his humidifier and takes some medicine. After showering and getting dressed in a comfortable pair of corduroys and thick turtleneck, Louis gathers his things and leaves his dorm.

Louis eats breakfast in a small cafe and texts Liam, choosing not to speak of Harry's drunk greeting the previous night, he'd rather do that in person since Louis' mouth moves faster than his fingers.

Louis says good morning to Matilda before finding a free table by the windows. He sets down his phone, laptop and notebook before sitting in the old cushioned chair. The library was nearly deserted, after all, it was almost ten on a Sunday morning. Most students were still in bed sleeping while the small few like Louis were up and ready to start the day.

Except Louis didn't want to start his day. He wanted to spend the day in bed in his dorm room, pitifully sneezing and coughing into tissues. His throat was the worst, paining him every time he swallowed and his eyes didn't find the bright library lights to be kind. Checking his watch, Louis sees it's exactly ten and then reaches for the book he was reading yesterday. He was on page 115 and was a little bummed he didn't read more. It was Harry's fault. With his drunkenness and mean words, honest words, they stole away Louis' desire to read. He went straight to bed last night after returning home, his energy taken by the memories Harry triggered with his words. Harry made Louis feel small, not only from their height difference but also because of his ego. On the two occasions where they both spoke, it was like he didn't care nor bother to care about the effect his words had on Louis.

That didn't matter though, because all Louis had to do was put up with Harry for one day every week then they'll never interact again. Louis was content with that and keeping his love flourished crush in the deepest part of his heart.

Almost an hour later, the chair across from Louis' is pulled out and a body slips into it. Louis sighs softly, pushing his glasses up and raises an eyebrow. "You're late." Harry is nothing like last night. His eyes are bright, hair is in a beanie, and he's wearing a black hoodie with a pair of jeans. At least he dressed for the weather, Louis thinks.

"I missed my alarm," Harry answers flat, his clear skin glowing from the sunlight beaming from the windows behind Louis. He shifts and leans over the table, dragging his fingertips along the dark wood. "Have you been here a while?"

Louis nods once. "We were supposed to meet at 10." He says with more annoyance than he thought. "I'm nothing if not punctual." Louis opens to the page with questions for Harry to answer in his notebook.

Harry rolls his eyes lazily. "Let's get this over with, I have a date tonight." He gloats cooly and leans back into the chair.

Louis' movements flatter, he assumes Harry met a girl at the party last night. His eyes trail down Harry's face to the skin of his neck, it was bare of any lovebites. A rare occasion considering Louis believes he saw one or two on Harry's collarbone when the teen was returning a book. "Hopefully that girl is in the right state of mind." He mutters.

Harry scoffs. "Jealous?"

Louis was a little more jealous than he would like to admit. He's dreamt more than once about him and Harry having cute dates in some local restaurants or having a picnic in the park. He just wishes Harry was nicer, kind and as attracted to him as Louis is.

"You are," Harry's eyebrows raise.

Louis rolls his eyes, masking his true feelings. "Please, if it were up to me I'd write the stupid Christmas headline." He lies, on the fence about taking gingerbread men, igloos and winter cabins over Harry's perfect green eyes and deep voice.

"Too bad it isn't your choice then. Trust me, I'd rather spend my Sundays in some chicks dorm doing things I'm sure you've never had the chance to." His green eyes look Louis up and down, his signature cocky smirk making a dreaded appearance.

Louis grimaces. "Whatever, Harry." He can't bother to correct Harry and tell him that he isn't attracted to 'chicks'. Instead, he clicks open his pen and writes the date at the top of his page.

"I bet you haven't been to a party before." Harry puts his hands behind his head, leaning back further and propping his feet on the table, right by Louis' coffee cup. "I went to a party last night. Got wasted."

Louis ignores him, knowing well enough of Harry's intoxicated state the previous night.

Louis would rather get this over with. "When is your birthday and how old are you?"

Harry hums at the boredness in Louis' tone. "February 1st and I'm twenty-one."

Louis perks up. "And you're in your second year?"

"Yep, lonely boy," the football captain yawns. "Started high school late."

That would mean that Harry started high school at sixteen, two years later than most people. Louis questions further. "W-Why?"

Harry looks at him, his burning gaze piercing through Louis' blues. "Only people I trust will know the answer to that."

Louis gulps nervously. He cowers, sinking lower into his chair. Not only was Harry intimidating but he had Louis wrapped around his finger, and he didn't even know it. Louis was fine china with Harry, the teen called him lonely and the word hasn't left his mind since. He was hopeless.

The blue-eyed boy brings both legs up, tucking them under his chin. "Describe your first year of university."

Harry closes his eyes, he looked so relaxed while Louis was trying to disappear. "I made friends easily through the football team. I loved it. Then my grades started to drop and I focused more on my studies, and even with less practice, I got the winning goal for the championship." His signature smirk crawls onto his face, one dimple appearing.