The Love Letters (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 5

"Dear W,

I can't believe how fond I am right now over a person whose name I don't even know. I don't know if I like the real you. I hope we get along. When was the last time we spoke? I have no idea.

But it doesn't matter. When you're ready to show me your face, I'll find it out. And I can wait until then.

Also, don't feel stressed about coming out. You don't even have to come out if you don't want to. Being queer should be normalized; by coming out, we make a big deal of it. Heterosexual people don't come out as straight, right?

But that doesn't mean you shouldn't be proud. Everyone should be proud about who they love.

Also, I'm sorry about the situation you're stuck in with your dad. I think I kind of know what it is about, but just tell me later.

Also, your dream was pretty cute! Do you dream often about me?

How old are you by the way? Because I am eighteen and I don't want to do something illegal, you know?

-Harry

PS: This is already the third letter that contains a PS."

Just like the day before, I go to the second floor and put the letter in the locker. Suddenly, I bump into a body. I look up.

It's Lucas. He's very, very tall, taller than me, and handsome as hell. I know him from the theatre class; he was there last year but he left this year. His eyes are big and light blue; his hair, which had grown over this summer, is reddish-blonde and tied back with a bandana.

He smiles. "Hi, Harry!"

I blush. "H-hi."

"How are you? I haven't seen you for a long time."

"Pretty good, and y-you?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine." His teeth are beautiful. They're white and straight. "We should go out together sometime. You're a fun guy", he says.

I nod immediately. "Of course, yeah! Why not!"

"Could you give me your number? I don't think I have it..."

"Of course!" I grab my phone and show him my number. He leans over to me. I can even feel his breath on my cheek. He pulls out his phone and saves my number. Then he puts it in his pocket again. "I'll call you", he says. He puts his hand on my back and when he turns around to leave, his fingertips wander over my left shoulder.

"Alright, what did you do with Lucas?", Zayn asks after school, while we're on our way to the theatre class. I look at him, surprised. "How do you know?"

"I was there with my friends Liam and Louis, and Louis noticed you, he pointed out to me that you were there, which was very unusual because you're never on the second floor, and then I saw Lucas."

"My admirers locker is on the second floor. I just wanted to put the letter in his locker."

"Oh. Alright. And what's going on with Lu- Oh my god, is he...?" He doesn't finish his sentence.

"Is he what?" I'm confused.

"Is he the... you know, your...?"

For a minute, I still don't know what he means.

Then it clicks.

I stare at Zayn, with disbelief.

"Oh. My. God."

Zayn just looks at me, full of expectation.

"D-do you...?"

Zayn shrugs.

I deeply breathe in. Then I start to scream. "OH MY FUCKING GOD, THIS WOULD JUST BE AMAZING, HE'S SO FUCKING HOT AND IT FITS SO WELL BECAUSE HE'S EVEN TALLER THAN ME, AND HIS EYES ARE BLUE AND I LOVE BLUE EYES AND HE'S CUTE AND PROBABLY SMART, TOO, I DON'T CARE, AND HE'S LIKE MY DREAM BOYFRIEND HE IS THE DEFINITION OF MY TYPE, AND- AHHHHH!!!"

"Woah, okay, Harry, calm down!", Zayn yells, "You're overreacting, it was just a thought of mine, but there are literally so many other lockers on the second floor, it could be literally every boy, well except for some like Jonathan but you know what I mean, and it would be kind of awkward for the real addressee-"

"You're right. You're probably right." I close my eyes, trying to calm down. I smile softly. "But, oh my god, imagine it was him..."

"He's actually attractive. I like smaller men- or women- but yeah, he's hot."

"Would you date him?"

"Fuck, yeah."

I laugh. "Maybe we can have a threesome."

"Ew, no, not with you, you're like a brother to me. And if I have a group orgy, there needs to be at least a woman and a man, a man that's not me, obviously."

"How old is he again?"

"We're in the same history class so I guess nineteen, like me."

"Alright, thanks." I smile at him.

Zayn looks at me, hesitantly. "Sh-should I say something about you the next time I see him?"

"Oh!", I blush, "You don't have to. He's got my number. But... it'd be really nice of you."

"Alright. I'll do it. For my brother Harry, right?"

"Yesterday, I was your mother."

"Oh, shut up." He laughs, then he presses a friendly kiss on my forehead.

Then we arrive at the theatre class.