Chances - Larry Stylinson

Part V

At half past eleven, they arrived at the city centre, in front of the Big Ben. It was already full and everyone was packed like sardines. Louis couldn’t believe how beautiful London was at night. The lamps were dim, and with the moonlight shining down on them, Louis thought everything was just lovely and intimate. All the Londoners were chattering just about anything and everything, and he wished that he never had to leave this place.

“Australia’s all dark at night. Nothing like this ever happens,” Louis said suddenly, breaking the silence between him and Harry. “I wish I could just stay here forever. Everything’s so lovely here,” he continued.

You're lovely, Harry thought. "You could always move back here or something. And you'd be able to see all this every night," Harry said, somewhat sadly, because he really did want Louis to move back here and stay by his side forever.

"Nah, I could never. My family's there, I can't just leave them," Louis replied, wishing he could just cuddle Harry and his entire family and take them to Neverland where everything was forever. He didn't want to leave Harry, but he couldn't leave his family either. Then he thought maybe he should just move to Antarctica and live with all the penguins and die when all the icebergs melted. 

"Yeah, but it's okay, Lou, you can come visit every new year if you'd like," Harry smiled softly, and Louis decided he was serious. Harry was sweet, Louis concluded, and maybe he really could just visit every new year. Even if it meant that he'd never properly be together with Harry, at least he could still see his curly-haired friend once in a while. 

Then Louis resisted the urge to snort at himself. Friend? Was that all Harry was to him? Of course not, and he knew that well by then. But he didn't know what to call Harry. He wasn't sure if they were still just friends, but they most definitely weren't a couple. A crush, maybe? Sighing inwardly, he wondered why everyone couldn't just walk up to the person they liked and say "hey, I like you." or something. Because then homes would be wrecked and birth rates would decline, and the happy index of the world plummet down to the crust of the earth, he realized.

Louis was awfully confused by matters of the heart. All he really wanted to do was to say everything straight up to Harry instead of talking to himself like that. Or instead of resorting to putting notes into Harry's pocket or Christmas present, half-wishing that he'd see them, half-wishing that he wouldn't.

"Lou? Did you hear what I said?" Harry waved a hand in front of Louis' face, and then the latter realised he'd zoned out the entire time. He shook his head no. 

"I said, there's still about fifteen minutes or so before the countdown, do you want to go sit somewhere? You seem kind of out of sorts," Harry offered, worry hanging on his features. 

"No, it's fine. Let's just stand here and talk more. I like talking," Louis smiled, and Harry laughed. "Oh, I can tell you like talking. What do you want to talk about though?" Harry asked, silently praying that Louis would talk about them. 

"Let's talk about uh," Louis hesitated. Should he bring it up? Fuck it, he thought. Be a man, Louis Tomlinson. "About that note I wrote to you before you left Australia," Louis rushed those words out. Finally, he said it, and he was relieved. But when he saw the slight shock and horror on Harry's face, he regretted it. 

"I mean, if you want to. If you don't then it's okay, obviously. I'm not going to force you or anything, like, I mea-" Louis rambled on and on, embarrassment evident. "Yeah, that's okay," Harry cut Louis off, and he could have sworn he saw a little pink creep up Louis' cheeks as he let out a sigh of relief. 

"What did you mean? In the note I mean," Harry began, feeling a lot more confident than he thought he'd be. He thought that he'd just run away from that topic instead of being the one who'd approach it so daringly like he was now. 

"I meant exactly what I wrote," Louis replied, a little shyly. He didn't want to have to say those three words out loud; that was why he'd chosen to write and not speak. He knew he'd never have the courage to say what he really wanted to in front of Harry. 

"What did you write?" Harry grinned, his green eyes twinkling with mischief. He never once looked away from Louis, as if challenging him, daring him to say it. Suddenly, the cheeky, playful side of him took over the awkwardness and fear he was feeling, and he didn't even know why. But he liked himself like that, because then he'd be confident enough to talk to Louis like he was doing now.

"Harry, you're making this hard!" Louis grumbled, burying his face in his hands. Why was Harry so cheeky and loveable and ugh, just so adorable at every moment?

"But no really, in all seriousness, Harry, I really meant what I said in that note, and I still do," Louis continued, trying not to be daunted by Harry's cheeky remarks. The curly-haired boy stopped grinning and looked at Louis, his eyes all wide and innocent. At that moment, it was as if they were the only two left in the world. Everything seemed almost surreal to Louis; the fact that he was standing there, in front of the Big Ben with Harry, his childhood friend. Except, Harry probably wasn't just a friend now.

"I saw the other note. The one in the sand," Harry whispered, barely audible because of the chattering around them, but Louis heard him anyway. He didn't know what to say to Harry, and their conversation lapsed into silence. Louis stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked down at his feet, examining them, while Harry just coughed awkwardly.

"So-" they both spoke at the same time. "You first," Louis smiled weakly. Of course he'd let Harry go first. He didn't know what to say at that moment. But Harry shook his head and gestured for Louis to speak first. With much hesitation, the blue-eyed boy nodded.

"So uh, do you, you know, like, uh... How do I say this... Do you, uh, likemeback?" Louis stammered, before finally rushing the last three words. 

Harry smiled, biting his lip, and as if that wasn't most girly thing he'd ever done in his life. Harry mentally slapped himself. But what Harry didn't know was that Louis thought that everything he did was just absolutely perfect and the loveliest thing he'd ever seen in his life. 

"Yeah, since two years ago, like you," Harry admitted as a blush crept its way up his cheeks, and Louis decided that blushing Harry would tie with lip-biting Harry. A smile tugged at the corners of Louis' lips. 

And before they knew it, people around them were already counting down. One minute to 2015. 

"As weird as this sounds, you're gorgeous," Harry complimented honestly. He'd always wanted to say that to Louis. "Wow, nice pick up line there. It might work, if I were a fifteen-year-old girl that is," Louis teased, chuckling. 

"I think I might kiss you now," Harry breathed quietly, ignoring Louis' comments. It was like Harry was intoxicated, drunk on Louis, not paying attention to anything else except how lovely Louis looked.

Ten!

Nine! 

Green eyes locked with shocked blue ones, and Harry leaned in, their eyes never once leaving the other's. As if they were in some kind of a clichéd fairy tale, Louis was that much shorter than Harry, so Harry had to bend down as their lips met. Harry's soft, wet lips moulded perfectly into Louis', and the latter smiled into the kiss, shutting his eyes.

Eight!

Seven! 

Six! 

The crowd around them yelled out in unison, counting down to the new year. Yet with all that noise, both of them were stuck in their own world. None of them cared about what others might have been thinking of them. 

No doubt was kissing a guy weird for the both of them, but it was a good kind of weird. They went slow; just holding their lips against the other's gently, not wanting to venture any further than that. Then Louis realised it really was like what he always thought it'd be like; electricity literally running through your veins, tingly sensations all throughout your body, from your head to your fingertips to your toes. It was all so magical, as if they were really in Neverland, by themselves, with no one else there to disturb them. 

Five! 

Four!

Harry thought Louis was just breathtaking with his eyes closed, long eyelashes resting on the top of his cheek, smile on his face. Then he imagined waking up to that every single morning, when Louis was snuggled up by his side, eyes closed, sleeping contentedly. He couldn't believe he was kissing Louis, his best friend from childhood, here, in London, just at the stroke of midnight. Really, Harry had no idea how to kiss someone properly, so he just stayed in that position. And he thought everything was just that easy after all. All he had to do was say he liked Louis back. That was as simple as it sounded. 

Three! 

Two! 

One!

Happy New Year! 

And then the boom of fireworks blasting over their heads could be heard, even in their little world. Louis pulled away slowly, opening his eyes almost timidly as he did so. It was strange to think that the normally so egotistical (not in the annoying way though) Louis could be so sweet and just basically pretty. 

"Happy new year," Harry spoke first, smiling, dimples all showing. 

"Happy new year, Harry," Louis smiled back, crinkles at the corner of his eyes. If he was being honest, this was no doubt the best new year he ever had in his life. He looked up and saw so many different types of fireworks shooting up to the sky then opening up and slowly fading into nothingness before another firework took its place. Harry was right; the fireworks in London were amazing. 

"This is honestly the best new year ever. Thank you, Harry," Louis said sincerely, smiling. And right now, smiling seemed like the only thing they could do. 

"Welcome, Lou."