Little Louder Now (Harry Styles/One direction fanfic)

Chapter 44: I always sleep better naked

Surprise surprise.  Another chapter.  I know, what the hell is up with me?  LoL.  Oh and by the way.  This gets smutty.  I mean really.  Just check out the chapter name.  it has the word naked in it. *hint hint*  If your easily offended, I suggest you skip Harry's POV but I think some stuff actually happens in this chapter.  I dunno.  I'm out of practice so I don't know what the hell i'm writing.  Luff you all.  Xx

P.s.- this is for Hahfunny because she is fucking amazing.  i cant say how much her writing inspires me.  if your not a fan or haven't checked out her stuff, get your booty in gear.  you'll thank me.  I promise.

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Chapter 44:  I always sleep better naked

*Ollie's POV*

I was laying in Harry's bed.  I was trying to sleep but obviously failing miserably.  I kicked the duvet off me once again, getting hot for the umpteenth time.  It was now my ritual.  Put on the duvet because I was cold, shove the covers off because I was hot again, then repeat the process every five minutes.  My nerves were on high alert.  Tomorrow, no wait, just hours away I thought as I looked at Haz's alarm clock, I was getting on a real tour bus and performing in front of thousands of people every two or three nights.  No crappy van where we had to load and unload or own shit.  We won't have occurrences like the time our crappy white van broke down and the rental car we got couldn't fit all our gear and shit into it.  This was the real fucking deal.  I thought I really wanted this, but I was terrified.  I've always been confident.  Shit, everyone in my family is.  Look at Tom and his stupid ass swagger and crooked smile.  But I now had this niggling little voice in the back of my head that said "you don't deserve this. Those fans aren't there to see you, but to ogle your hot boyfriend."  The voice in my head even said "you're nothing".  That made me physically ill and made me pound my fist into my forehead, trying to silence that evil monster in the back of my head.  Why not talk to Harry, you ask.  Well, you see, HE'S NOT FUCKING HERE.  This fact did nothing to ease the growing tension in my body.

My lazy boy had slept basically all day.  I'm talking ALL day.  He woke up around 4 or something.  He's more of a night owl really.  The night hours just seem to suit him, his thoughts, his personality.  Everything about Harry was enhanced in the dark hours of the day.  The way his eyes seemed darker, his dimples deeper, his curls just slightly more tousled… the thought of him looking so good made me groan out loud and flip onto my side in frustration.  I squeezed my eyes shut tighter and shook my head slightly, trying to erase the sexy image out of my head.  I wondered what the hell he was doing and where he was doing it.  Or who he was doing it with?  I growled and rolled around in the bed again trying to regain what control and mental acuity I still had left.  I wish I could ask him what he thinks about the night before he leaves home?  Instead, I mentally went over the checklist of everything I needed for our tour and I found myself saying that I had packed everything necessary and probably a lot more.

My mind wandered again to when I was on twitter earlier.  I had been innocently following and responding to fans when a nightmare of a picture popped up on my screen.  I had gone out for a LONG run today to try and relieve some stress and found myself completely starving after the exercise.  I stopped at a local place, had an iced tea, salad, and cheeseburger with heaps of chips.  I devoured it like I hadn't eaten in weeks.  Inevitably, since I was wearing spandex yoga pants and a tight shirt for the run, you could tell I had just eaten a huge meal, but oh no… the Directioners hypothesized otherwise. 

The picture was of me standing next to Ken after I ate, standing on a street corner completely unaware of what was going on around me.  The picture had a circle around my stomach and a red arrow pointing to it and then a question mark over Ken's head.  The comments read "Is that whore already pregnant with Harry's baby?", "What a slut.  That is definitely not Harry she's with.", "Guess that prank call on Grimmy's show wasn't much of a prank.  She so obviously has a bun in the oven."  Other notes were just mean saying I was fat, but I know I'm not and I dare you to tell me you have never had a food baby before.  This shit happens.  Grow up people.