I Think I l Love You Better Now (Larry Stylinson)(Rated R for a reason)

(Harry’s POV)

I’m sitting in the back of the limo, fuming. Liam’s said Lou would be in any minute, but I don’t want him to be. And yet I’m annoyed that he isn’t. God, maybe I had too many drinks, I’m supposed to be happy for him. I’m supposed to be supportive and encouraging but here I am, tapping my fingers loud enough for everyone to notice, angry.Jealous. No, angry. Not Jealous. You sure about that?

At that moment Louis jumps into the limo, shutting the door behind him and finding a seat across from me beside Zayn. Idiots.

It’s silent for a few seconds, everyone staring and Lou and him looking back, biting his slightly swollen lip.

“Go ahead.” He finally says, and the other three boys erupt into cheers.

Lou’s mouth turns up into a grin and his shoulders are shaken by Zayn. “What did I tell you? I knew you’d hit it off!”

I’m glaring at him in a second. I honestly can’t even deal with this. I’m just angry, so fucking angry. Whether it in indeed jealousy (I honestly don’t think so. Yes it is you blind idiot.) or the fact that Lou isn’t being honest with me and all the other boys know….I’m content to sit here and sulk because that’s all I’m capable of right now.

“So!? How was it? Was that the first time you’ve kissed a guy?” Niall’s asking, eyes wide with excitement as he practically bounces around. That’s the thing with Niall; he feeds off of everyone’s happiness until he’s a ball of energy.

“Uh, besides Harry when we were drunk, yeah.” Lou admits and my head snaps up, blush forming. So yeah, we’d kissed. A few times over the years we’d known each other. It didn’t mean anything. We were both off our rockers with the amount of booze we’d had each time. Weren’t we?

“Okay so how was it!?” Niall pushes, and I see Lou trying not to smile through his reddening face.

“Good.” He says simply, and even I shoot him a raised eyebrow. God, can he not be honest just once.

“Cut the crap, how was it really?” Liam questions, finally getting into the conversation.

“Bloody brilliant!” Lou admits, and I feel like I’m being stepped on. “I mean, I finally know how it feels when you guys kiss girls. I’d never felt it, cause I was trying to sweep them off their feet, but really…”

“You wanted to be the one being swept off your feet?” Zayn asks, eyebrows raised happily.

“Maybe.” Louis admits, looking at the ground.

“AWWW!” The other three boys cheer, and even I can’t help but smile a little at the admission.

I’d never pegged Lou as the…what do they call it? Beta? You know, the one who put their arms up and not down while slow dancing, the one who likes to be carried around, likes to be cared for, etc. Most people say the ‘girl’ in the relationship but that’s far off. Louis isn’t a girl and he’s not that feminine. He just likes having someone take care of him. I wish I could.

Okay whoa where did that come from? You know where.

“So yeah. I got his number. I’ll probably be seeing him again.” Louis tells us with a grin, but I frown again, going back to sulking.

“That’s great, you need some happiness in your life.” Zayn says.

Just like that the atmosphere in the space changes. It’s so dramatic you can literally feel it. I scan their faces with worry. Louis is half glaring at Zayn, biting his lip in a way that I know for sure means what the fuck. Liam glancing back and forth between me and Lou, and I’m so close to snapping that I’m forced to bite my own lip. Zayn’s clearly aware he’s done something wrong, judging by the apologetic state of his expression. And then there’s Niall, looking anywhere but at us so he’s on his phone, eyes glued to whatever (probably Twitter) he’s on.

So now I’m pissed. Why the hell does everyone know but me? Liam’s unsaid words from earlier scare me. How bad was it, really? Everyone’s been following him around, walking on eggshells. Like he’ll break if they say something wrong, do something to upset him. Like he’s made of glass. And I suppose in some ways he is.

I need out. I need out of this small space and I need to be on my own before I burst and take it out on someone who doesn’t deserve it. Meaning Louis.

The limo stops at a red light and I see my chance. I open the door, and go to hop out.

“What the hell are you doing?” Liam calls, but I slam the door in his face, running through the stopped cars until I reach a sidewalk.

To be terribly honest, I have no idea where we are. I don’t know anything about the city we’re in. I’ve never been to the states, and I can barely remember which we’re in. This may have been a mistake.

My phone rings, and I see Louis’ number. Anyone else and I would have ignored it. But I just can’t press the end button with his name there.

“What?” I answer instead of a greeting.

“Where the hell are you going? The limo driver won’t stop because we’re famous and he’s worried we’ll get mobbed. Do you have any idea how dangerous this is for you? You could get hurt! You have no idea where you are! Why would you do that? You’re crazy!” He yells, and I wait it out as I walk down a street, pulling my hood up as a disguise.

“Thank you for telling me everything I already know, that was really helpful.” I snap sarcastically into the phone, and I hear him groan.

There’s rustling, then a distinctive voice takes over. “You’re insane. Bloody insane. Where are you?” Liam demands.

“I dunno.” I answer, trying to find a street sign. No such luck.

“You…god you’re an idiot.” Liam groans, clearly over his limit of my bullshit. Oops.

There’s more rustling. Zayn’s on the phone now. “Get a cab and meet us at the hotel.”

“No.” I say simply. “I need to be alone.”

It’s true. My thoughts are threatening to suffocate me and even though I’m lost and the darkened, fairly quiet street is seemingly dangerous, it’s just what I need. Back before everything changed, whenever something that angered me happened I used to just go out and walk, the consuming need to just lose myself overwhelmed me. My mum hated me for it. I kind of do too.

“Harry! Ugh, if this is about what I think it’s about, you’re doing more harm than good.” Zayn tells me, and my steps falter. What does he mean by that?

“Is that so?” I ask sarcastically, turning onto another random street.

“Damn right. Don’t do this to him.” Zayn tells me, and this time I stop fully. I go cold all over. My heart stops. I don’t know why I’m feeling this way and I don’t know how but he knows. He just does. Insightful bastard.

In the background I hear the boys asking ‘Who?’ but Zayn evidently doesn’t say anything further.

“I can’t. I need to just…” I sigh. “I don’t know what. I’ll be home later, I swear. Make sure he’s okay.” I finish, both of us knowing I mean Louis.

“Whatever. I’m giving Niall the phone, his death grip on my neck isn’t helping my breathing.” He snaps.

Rustling again.

“You’re an idiot.” The Irish lad tells me immediately.

“Once again, thank you for telling me what I already know.” I growl. Once again I start walking, just wandering the streets as cars pass and I hide my face from any teenage girls I see.

“Look, I get it. You need to clear your head. We all have a way. Just make sure you’re safe and if you’re not back in an hour, I’m sending the body guards out to find you.” Niall says, and I feel a smile tug at my lips. He gets me.

“Thank you. And okay.” I say.

“Bye Haz.” Niall says and the line goes dead. I flip my phone shut with a small grimace. They all call me Haz, but it only feels right when Lou does it.

Now I have time to think. Properly think.

Why am I feeling this way? Why am I angry that someone, someone else, has my Lou’s attention? Why am I mad that they were snogging? Maybe it was more the way Colin was snogging him. It was sloppy and had no connection. His hands were gropey in all the wrong ways and the only thing I can keep thinking is I could do it better.

Putting aside how utterly crazy that thought is, I can’t help but feel that it’s true. This Colin guy is lost as to what he’s doing. This isn’t some random guy, this is my Louis. This is Louis who likes it when people bite his lip, likes when people are gentle with him, likes people who pull at his hair around his sensitive spot behind his ear. Colin had no idea what he was doing, but I would. I know just how he likes soft passion, and hands on his waist, not his ass.

God, his ass. It’s freaking lovely and there’s no denying it. He gets crap from the fans for it being feminine but I could care less. I grab it all the time, playing it off as a friendly tweak, but that’s really not it, if I’m honest. I can’t keep my hands off him. He does the same to me at nearly every show, but it’s not the same. He does it because he wants to tease me. I do it because I love his ass.

Whoa, love? I shove that thought aside, and walk down another street.

So I like his ass, which means nothing. Then again, I like the rest of him too. I like his arms when they’re around me. I like his stomach pressed to mine when we hug. I like his legs interlocked in mine when he falls asleep cuddled up with me. I like his hair, and the way he’ll never be satisfied with the way it is, and will constantly play with the fringe until I literally grab his hand away because come on Lou, it looks perfect. I like his lips when they quirk up into a devilish grin. I like the way his teeth show when he laughs. Actually, I like his laugh. It’s perfect and addictive and always induces more. I like the way his cheeks flush when I compliment him, and I even like the way that I don’t like when he brushes said compliment off. I like his nose, and his ears, and his neck, and his eyes. Oh god, his eyes. They’re always twinkling, and they can see into your soul. They’re the most beautiful orbs on the planet. With one look he can silence a room, and with one more he can louden it. When he looks at me in the morning I freeze because they catch me. When he looks at me during a concert, I nearly miss my line. When he looks at me during an interview I’m more guarded because if I tease him too closely, ‘Larry Stylinson’ rumors will fly. And when he looks at me at night when he can’t sleep, his walls halfway down, the real Louis coming through, I love it.

And really, I like more than the way he looks. I like Lou. I like his wacky sense of humor. I like his pranks, even when they’re directed at me. I like his hyped up idiocy, clearly shown on the X Factor video diaries and let’s be honest, half of our interviews. I like the way he calls everyone babes, and I especially like when that’s how he addresses me. I like those nights when he makes us hot cocoa and curls up under a blanket to watch romantic comedies. I like that he’s thoughtful enough to buy me cookies when he goes out. I like the way he always has a hand on me, nearly everywhere. It feels like that hand, that brief contact, is the only thing keeping me grounded. Some days, when we’re apart for whatever reason, I find myself initiating contact with the other boys in hopes of them doing the same. It’ll never be as good as Lou though.

He’s my Boo Bear. My Lou Bear, my Lou Lou, my Babe and my Sweet Cheeks. And I’m his Hazza. Everyone else will call me Harry, and the boys will call my Haz sometimes, but only Louis will ever call my Hazza. That is it. Nobody else can hold me the way he does and nobody else can have his effect on me. Nobody else makes me laugh when I’m down and nobody else will have toast wars with me. He’s the only one who’ll ever have a his and hers blanket with me and he’s the only one I’ll let sit on the counter when I’m cooking. Just Louis.

Just him.

My phone vibrates and I fish it out of my pocket, realizing that I’ve come to a more major road, which is probably a good thing.

Lou Bear:

I’m sorry if I did something wrong. Please come home. I’ll be waiting up and I’m making you talk to me.

–Your Boo Bear xx

God, it’s the word your that kills me. He’s not mine. He’s this Colin guy’s now. He’ll never be mine.

Hold on, why do I want him to be mine? Because he should be. He should be in your arms, he should be kissing you, he should be loving you. And you just might want that, don’t you? No. Yes. You want him. You want to kiss him and you want to take care of him. You want to be the one sweeping him off his feet. No, I do not. Yes, you bloody well do. Admit it. Fine.

Fine. But I’m not gay. I can’t be. Not that there’s anything wrong with it. Obviously. Just that I like girls. I like boobs. I’m not called the flirt for nothing. I wink at any girl I see. I want to sweep them off their feet. Oh the irony. Louis wants to be cared for and I want to care for someone. Maybe him. Definitely him.

But I am not gay. I can’t be, so how does this make sense? How can any of this make any goddamn sense?

I need to call someone. I need to talk to someone who won’t judge me, who will stick with me and listen and help me. Normally I’d call my mom or anyone else in my family. But they’d be asleep as there’s the whole time change thing. So down to the boys. Liam’s too controlling. I don’t want that. Zayn’s too insightful and I don’t want a mind reader right now. So Niall. Niall is perfect.

It’s too late to make him meet me somewhere, but I can call him. So I do.

“Really Haz, I was trying to sleep.” He answers, and a smirk appears on my face.

“I need advice. Well, I need to ask a really weird question and you have to promise not to judge.” I say, leaning against a brick wall.

“Thought we were past this, you know I won’t. Ask away, lad.” Niall tells me. So I take a deep breath, ignore my pounding heart, and do.

“Do you think it’s possible to…like, still be straight, b-but also like a guy?” I ask, and I swear I can hear him grin.

“I knew it.” He laughs. “I knew it!”

“Yeah, yeah whatever. Just, do you…think it is?” I ask, blushing even though nobody can see me. I’m desperate for an answer.

“Of course. You fall in love with someone’s personality, not what they look like. I mean, that certainly helps, but I have a feeling you like the way he looks too, hmm?” Niall says, and I roll my eyes.

“I guess.” I admit, wincing.

“Harry…”

“Okay fine, he’s hot.” I admit with a sigh. It’s true. I hate that it is, but it…just is.

“Ha! Knew it! But like I said, you fall in love with the person, not the anatomy.” Niall says with a chuckle.

“Whoa, I didn’t say anything about love. I fancy him at most.” I argue, a small growl to my tone.

It’s true. I can’t love him, but I can fancy him. If I just like him, that’s bearable. I can handle the rejection and the hurt and the jealousy. But loving him? I’d die. Because he’ll never feel the same and that will literally break me. Ugh.

“Okay, whatever.” Niall says, backing off, sensing I don’t want to go there. “Now go home to your new crush because I’ll tell you now, he’s worried sick.”

“I don’t know if I want to.” I admit. Yes, I’m feeling sorry for myself. But I just can’t help it.

“Green is not a good color on you Styles. Get your ass home.” Niall says, rather harshly, then hangs up the phone.

I should be angry. I should argue. I should stay out.

But I hail a cab, quickly say our hotel name, sit in the back and text a very specific sentence.

I’ll be there soon.

-Your Hazza xx