Conformity (Larry Stylinson AU)

One.

When I finally reach home I take my skateboard under my arm and walk through the back gate. I toss it on the ground then unlock the door, entering my shabby abode. The door I always come in through leads straight to the kitchen, where a folding table and a couple of wooden chairs sit in the center of the room and the wooden cabinets are always in danger of becoming vacant.

I glance at the counter and notice my mother's purse. She must have forgotten it on her way to work. At least, that's what I assume prior to the petite women with a beautiful, stress-swollen face stepping into the room. She spreads her arm as a smile stretches her mouth. "Harry!"

"Mum," I say, enveloping her in a hug. "What are you doing home so early?"

"They let me have the day off. Oh, I miss you so much,"

I allow myself to grin as we withdraw from the hug. "I miss you, too."

"You must be starving. Go put in a Disney film and I'll make us some food,"

"I can do it, Mum, you go have a seat,"

She places her hand on her jutted out hip and gave me the matronly stare. "Harry Edward, I am your mother, let me make you food."

I toss my hands up in mock submission. "Alright, alright,"

We share a soft chuckle as I step into the other room and shuffle through our collections of DVD's. We have a surplus of Disney films. I was obsessed when I was younger and watching them together was an unofficial tradition. I decide on Aladdin and take the weight off my feet after putting it in. I kick my shoes off and melt into the old couch, reaching for my laptop on the coffee table.

My laptop is absolutely priceless to me; my Christmas present from Mum last year. She had spent 3 months saving up to buy it for me and I have never taken better care of anything in my life. Not even the converse Dad sent me, which were now polluted and worn down.

I log into Facebook and, with my crush on my mind, search 'Louis Tomlinson'. I grin to myself when his profile lights up the screen. Call me creepy, but I always look at his posts. He puts up amazing song lyrics, relevant quotes, and thought provoking rants and questions. His Facebook directly contradicts the facade placed upon him by society, as everyone at school sees him as the ditsy, popular class clown.

Granted, he is hilarious and does ridiculous things sometimes, but I think I'm the only one who actually listens when he says something serious. He makes great points and connections, yet everyone thinks it's just a joke. Louis goes along with it but I can tell that it makes him disconsolate that nobody takes him seriously.

I skim over his recent posts, my mouse hovering over the 'like' button but not having the guts to press down. I do the same thing with the 'send friend request', but I am way too scared of any possible thing that could go wrong as a result of this to actually do it. I'm sure he'd accept it, but what if he didn't?

"Here we are, Haz. Soupe de jour is Campbell's chicken and noddle," Mum announces with a thick, fake French accent, making he chuckle and shake my head as she hands me a steaming bowl of the soup. She sits beside and and crosses her legs, setting a pillow in her lap and using it as a table.

As I sip spoonfuls of my soup and hum along to Arabian Nights, Mum glances at my computer screen. I try to shut the laptop with my thighs whilst not spilling scorching hot broth on me, but I'm too late and she asks who Louis is.

"Uh, he's a bloke from school," I reply in an uncool manor, arousing suspicions.

"Yeah?" She cocks an eyebrow at me. "Your boyfriend?"

I shake my head violently. "No! No, he's straight, anyways..."

Mum's always been okay with my sexuality, which I am eternally grateful for. Any other homosexual, bisexual, asexual, pansexual, and any other non-heterosexual person I've talked to at school or online aren't quite as blessed as I am.