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

(Louis’ POV)

I’m waiting on the couch when I hear the door knob jiggle, followed by a door opening. I try to calm my nerves. I’m almost one hundred percent sure Harry’s little storm out was my fault. What I did, I’m not sure, but I just…know. I feel terrible, naturally. The worry I’d felt the second he was out of sight had gripped me tight and not even Liam could calm me down. I had been frantic. I still somewhat am.

He walks slowly into the room, flicking on the lamp as he does. I cringe at the newfound light and he mutters an apology. It looks like he’s nervous and I don’t know why.

He falls onto the couch, a little too far away from me to be normal, and fiddles with his hands.

“Hey.” I say, trying to get rid of the weird awkwardness.

“Hi.” He whispers, but his smile gives him away.

“So um, what was that about?” I ask timidly, trying to stop my eyes from going all over him.

“I dunno.” He mumbles. He still hasn’t met my eyes, and I miss them. Those perfect green orbs, the way they widen and the way they narrow. Those beautiful emerald eyes.

“Yes you do.” I say bluntly. I know him better than this. I always have and I always will.

He finally glances up, and the look in his eyes makes my heart falter. I have never, not once, seen that look. He’s studying me, like I’m a fine piece of art, and even the thought makes me blush. There’s just something behind those walls he puts up that I can’t see. I want to. How hypocritical Louis.

“I just worry for you, Lou Bear.” He tells me after a moment, and I feel my face frown.

“Why?” I ask, scooting closer to him. Our knees brush. Butterflies.

“Because I care about you, obviously.” He says like it’s the clearest thing in the world.

“You know what I mean.” I correct.

He shakes his hair, using his delicate fingers to fix the fringe. He misses a piece and I lean forward to move it myself, leaving my hand there a little too long to be platonic. But my body is working without my mind’s consent. I’m not sure why I’m so out of control. His eyes widen, but nothing else.

“I just…god, this Colin guy. I don’t…I don’t want him to hurt you okay? I’m not saying he will, I just worry that if he breaks your heart, I won’t be able to put it back together.” Harry explains, voice cracking.

My eyes water at his sincerity because I’ve literally always wanted to hear him say something so caring. He cares. Harry Styles doesn’t want my heart broken. The thought makes my heart skip a beat. So apparently even with Colin around, those thoughts haven’t gone anywhere.

“Awe, Hazza.” I coo, and close the space between us to pull him into a tight hug. He grips me back with amazing passion and I think for a second that maybe he cares about me as much as I do him.

“I can’t let you get hurt.” He whispers into my ear, breath sending tingles down my spine.

I pull back, faces mere inches apart. God what I wouldn’t do to close the gap…. No.

“I’m not going to be. He was a great guy and everything, but being blatantly honest, I don’t know if it’ll turn into anything. I just don’t think so.” I admit to him, trying not to get lost in his eyes.

His expression changes. I swear I see hope flicker in his eyes, but a second later whatever it was is gone. “Really?”

“Really, really.” I tease. “Now let’s go to bed, I’m exhausted.”

He grins and follows me down the hall, before I get to my door and lean against it. His eyes rake over me and I wonder why. Why does he have that serious look on his face? Why is his mouth quirked and why are his eyes dark? I don’t know.

“You wanna…” He trails off, voice going quiet. The unsaid words linger in the air. You wanna sleep in my bed?

“Yes.” I say quickly, both of us chuckling a little.

He opens his door, a silent invitation. Following him, I smile and sigh softly as he puts a hand on the small of my back. In an instant it’s gone, and I miss it. Harry takes off his shirt, and I try desperately hard not to stare at his amazing abs. His pants come off too, leaving him in his boxers. I realize I am indeed gawking, so I adjust my pj pants that I’m glad I put on and go to pull off my jumper.

Then I realize that oh shit, I can’t take my shirt off. My cuts and burns aren’t gone yet. Crap.

Harry hops into bed, sending me a cheeky smile as he opens his arms. I crawl over to him, curling into his chest. Where I belong. He smells like his usual cinnamon, but there’s a hint of hair gel and it’s lovely.

“Not taking off your clothes Boo?” He asks as my head finds the spot in his neck, hair molding to the space.

“Cold.” I mutter, wrapping my arms around him tightly, pulling him closer.

“What’s this Tommo, you don’t trust me to keep you warm?” He teases, but there’s underlying concern that I love.

“Shut it, you.” I laugh, slapping his butt lightly. “Go to sleep.”

“Night babe.” He says, and I tense up.

Just hours ago Colin was saying the same thing. It had given me tingles and butterflies, much like now. But my reaction with Haz is different. With Colin it was new and crush-y, but with Harry…I feel warmth spread through me, and dare I say adoration? Yes I do.

“Night Hazza.” I stammer, and his arms encircle me, making me feel whole.

When I’m with Harry, I feel different. Like I’m a different person. Maybe because I sort of am. He knows things about me even the boys don’t. He knows about my first kiss, my first time, my first attempt at romance. He knows I like sappy movies and spooning. He knows I like people who bite my lip, and he knows I like eyes that tell a story. Like his. Who knows, maybe in the dream land that he actually likes me back, he’d do all the things I love. Then again, he already fits half of my list. Not really a must have list, more like a ‘I will like you way more if you’ list. Actually he fits more.

Then it hits me, just as I’m drifting off to sleep in those strong, amazing arms. Harry is my list. He’s all I’ll ever want.

Simple.

***********************

(Harry’s POV)

When I wake up in the morning, I feel heat surrounding me, and I grin with my eyes still closed. I take a minute to remember everything from last night. I fancy Louis. He might not fancy Colin. He still wanted to cuddle. Fantastic.

I let my eyelids flutter open and my smile grows when I see that Louis’ face is mere inches from mine, sleeping peacefully. His hair is ruffled and stuck up in all directions, and yet it’s kind of the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. His eyelashes are casting shadows on his tan cheeks, and his breath is coming out in even half-snores. Fucking adorable.

I let my eyes travel down. His chest is pressed against me, arms curled together against my torso. His legs are once again intertwined with mine and I find that I love it. And then I realize that last time we were here he had realized and pulled away quickly. The thought makes me frown slightly. We’d never work. That hurts.

I look back at his face, and sigh. He’s literally perfect and I don’t know why I never realized it before. I study his lips, and I have the sudden urge to kiss them. I know I can’t, but my stupid body isn’t listening to my mind. Instead I settle for a soft kiss to his nose, settling back on the pillow.

He shifts in his sleep, arms moving to sort of wrap around me. His sleeve pushes up and just like that, my life changes.

His wrist is a mess, covered in cuts and what look like burn marks. My breathing quite literally stops. My heart does too. My world as well. Nothing makes sense anymore. It just…doesn’t.

Louis couldn’t have. He…his life is good. He’s happy, laughing, silly Lou Bear. He doesn’t do things like this. He…he deals. Doesn’t he?

I don’t figure out I’m crying until a tear hits the pillow.

My fingers reach out and delicately run over the ruined skin. It’s bumpy and enflamed, all around looking quite painful. It’s a wreck. No wonder he hid it. Was this the secret everyone knows except me? It has to be. It explains why everyone was following him, the worried glances, the fragile atmosphere.

This makes so much sense. Over the years Lou used to disappear into the bathroom when something bad happened, telling us he needed a shower. When he’d come out he’d be awkward and strange. I suppose I’d written off as nerves. But no.

I’m off the bed in a second, blissfully not waking him up. And then I pace, because what the hell else can I do? He’s been…all this time and I…I didn’t do anything. Why didn’t I see? Why didn’t I…why.

Really, that’s the word I’m stuck on. Why? Fucking why. Why would he resort to such an ugly thing? Why would he have to hurt himself? Was I not a good friend? Was he not able to deal with things? Is there something more I’m missing? It because of the whole coming out thing? No, there are scars that look older.

And why the fuck did the other boys not tell me?

I hit the wall, anger coursing through me. I can’t think straight (ha) about this. I can’t.

"Haz?" Comes a timid voice, and I freeze. Somehow, hearing his voice, so ignorant of what I’ve just discovered…makes this worse.

I spin and see him staring at me curiously, eyebrow raised, arm still on display. Obviously he hasn’t noticed.

"Did you just punch the wall?" He asks bluntly.

"Yes." I growl. Whoa, I don’t even sound like me.

He furrows his eyebrows, and I try desperately hard to ignore the way it crinkles his adorable eyes.

"Why?" Lou asks. There it is. Out in the open. I shouldn’t answer. I shouldn’t.

"I know." I say darkly. It’s all I can manage. Saying it out loud would be too much.

"Know what..?" He asks. God he can be ignorant!

"I. Know." I say furiously. To help him my eyes lower to his arm, then back to his face.

I watch as he follows my motions, sees his arm, and his face pales. He looks back up at me, realization dawning on him.

And then there’s the worst look of heartbreak I’ve ever seen in his eyes. He’s breaking in front of me just like that, crumbling. His face scrunches, trying not to cry, but he fails. Tears start and he can’t stop them.

He sits up, pulling his legs to his chest, and buries his head in his knees. I should be there comforting him. But I can’t because I’m still so freaked out.

"Why Lou?" I ask, but it comes out as a yell.

He shakes his head into his knees, hiccupping with sobs.

"Why?" My voice cracks this time. My own tears falling down my cheeks, cold against my heated skin.

"Because." He cries into his knees.

We say nothing for a while. I can’t fathom the right words and I don’t think he could say them even if he wanted to.

"How come they know?" I ask, feeling like my heart’s being ripped in half. "How come everyone else fucking knows about this and I don’t?"

He just cries into his legs. I can’t see his eyes. I don’t like that.

"I could have helped! Do you not trust me? Do you not care about me? Do you even think I matter Lou? Because I’m your best friend and we live together, yet I don’t even know that you’re hurting yourself? Ruining yourself? What the fuck Louis.” I shout. “What the fuck!”

"I’m sorry!" He finally shouts, voice broken. "I couldn’t do it!"

"Do what!?" I shout back.

"Tell you!" He half sobs. "I couldn’t tell you!"

"Why the hell not, you asshole!" I shout, arms flying around. I’ve lost control.

"Because! I couldn’t hurt you. I can…I can hurt myself but not you." He finally says. His voice is small and timid but it’s still so hurt that I nearly stop. Nearly.

"You’re a fucking idiot. You know that? You’re so stupid! God! Why didn’t anyone tell me, you need help!" I yell.

I storm over to him and shake his shoulders, and he looks up at me, eyes puffy and red, emotions flashing on his face. Regret, anxiety, fear, sadness and most of all, hurt.

"I’m not mental." He breathes. Then he whimpers. And it’s that right there that gets me.

I let go of him and stare. I know he’s not. I know but I can’t get the words out of my mouth.

So I leave. I just leave the room, slip on jeans and a shirt, force my feet into the nearest pair of shoes and leave.

In the hallway of the hotel I’m met by the other boys, obviously having heard our loud argument. Funny, I don’t care.

I glare at them.

"I’m going to kill all of you. You’re all fucking backstabbing idiots." I spit at them, pointing out of fury.

And then I storm past them and down the nearest staircase, not knowing where I’m going.

***************************

(Louis’ POV)

I’m rocking back and forth for who knows how long. My sobs haven’t quit and I feel as though my world has come down around me. How does my life go from being decent to terribly bad in a matter of 1 night? No, really. I want to know.

I feel arms around me and all I have to do is inhale the cologne and I know it’s Zayn. I clutch at his shirt desperately, done fighting my emotions. I break. I tumble to pieces and I can’t stop sobbing.

Hands start rubbing my back and I identify them as Niall’s. They’re comforting and lovely but it isn’t doing anything to help. Because Hazza knows. And that’s the worst thing in the world.

"Shh, it’ll be okay Lou, I promise." Liam soothes, but I shake my head.

“No….hates…” I try to say but a sob breaks through, wracking my body.

"He doesn’t hate you." Zayn tells me, running fingers through my hair.

"No, that’s just it!" I cry. "He doesn’t hate me. He hates himself."

And that’s worse.

So I cry even more.

*************************

(Harry’s POV)

I hate myself. I bloody hate myself. Why didn’t I notice? Why couldn’t I see it? I should have caught on and I didn’t. We talk about being on the same wavelength, but we’re obviously not. If we were, I would have known.

I guess deep down I can’t blame him for not telling me. I mean look at how I just reacted. I’d blown it. I regret that, so goddamn much. I shouldn’t have yelled. I shouldn’t have gotten angry. But I was and I did and it’s too late.

And now, walking down the street with a security guard with me (seriously, I’m fine, do your job and shut up) I’m feeling regret settle uncomfortably in the pit of my stomach. I managed to ruin everything.

I’d broken Louis just like he knew I would. Just like the boys knew I would, and just like deep down I knew I would. Because there is only one person on this earth who is able to both build Lou up with months of close friendship and then tear it down in an instant. And that’s me.

Shit.

“Harry! Harry Styles! Can I have an autograph!?” Some girl screams and I snap my head up, gloomy as ever.

My security guard starts to push her away, saying no, but I put a hand on his shoulder and nod my head. I’ve already let down the boys, myself and my Louis. I can at least give this girl what she wants.

I take her sharpie and her notebook and sign my name with a cheeky winkey face beside it. She asks for a picture as well and I pose, managing to plaster on a fake smile for a few seconds.

She looks down after she’s finished going on about how much she loves us in a thick American accent. “You’re wearing Louis’ shoes!” She points out.

I look down and whoa, yes I am. I’m wearing his shoes. When did that happen? I guess when I stormed out. Actually, I realize I slid on his top as well. I lean my head into my shoulder and inhale, reveling in his scent. Lou always smells like a mix of cologne and fruity shampoo, the perfect combination. If I could smell him all day I would.

“Uh yeah.” I mutter. That’s all I can come up with.

“You always wear each other’s clothes, it’s so sweet. I mean, really. You can tell how much you care about each other. You’ve always got your hands on each other, as if you’ll die if you don’t. You’re kind of the best bromance ever, you know? It’s so great!” She rambles, but I’m not listening anymore.

What she said struck me. It’s true. We care about each other. Lou cares about me and I care about him. In the end that’s all there is. That’s it. He’s my Lou Bear. And he needs me.

I look down once more, seeing his familiar TOMS on my feet and feel a smile tug at my lips.

And then I’m booking it back to the hotel, as fast as humanly possible, Lou’s shoes helping me get there.