When Blue Eyes Met Green - Larry Stylinson [AU]

chapter 1.

The reason for this chapter being up so late is because the first time I wrote it I absolutely HATED it, everything was going so fast and it was all so cheesy. But anyways, I hope you all liked this! Just like I mentioned in the prologue I need 5 votes on this chapter in order for me to post Chapter 2 :D (DISCLAIMER: I've never been to a group therapy session, I have absolutely no idea what they do there. I used yahoo! Answers to get at least the smallest amount of information.)

Louis POV

The harsh smell of hand sanitizer penetrated my nostrils as I walked inside the brick building. The middle aged woman sitting behind a wooden desk tucked some of her black hair behind her ear before she smiled at me, "Hello love, what brings you here? Do you have an appointment?" Her voice was high pitched and annoyingly joyful.

"Uh, I'm here for the group therapy session that is scheduled for 3pm," My heart beat was rapid and I was 99% sure that the receptionist behind the desk could hear it.

"Oh yes, The group therapy session with Dr. Perez. That would be on the second floor in room 203." She said, I subconsciously pulled down my sleeves with one swift movement. Thank god for the chilly UK weather, it's my main excuse for me always wearing a sweater or jumper. Well, it's not like it's anyones concern that I always wear sweaters.

'Thank you," I replied.

I turned on my heal and headed towards the elevator. As the elevator doors opened I realized what I've just gotten myself into. How will I explain this to my father? How will I explain the reason why I will never be home on Tuesday afternoons? I did think this entire thing through, I truly did. But it seams that I didn't think some parts through enough. I'm the only person that knows about this, and that is how I prefer to keep it.

The loud 'ding' of the elevator buzzed through my ears and the doors slid open. The second floor had white walls and smelled faintly of hand sanitizer. By now, my heart wasn't beating anymore, it was pounding, my palms were sweaty and clammy and my stomach felt like it was repeatedly doing back flips. I felt utterly sick.

Room 203 was the third door on the east side of the long corridor. Once I open that door I'm expecting a room full of teenagers with pools of tears in their eyes and various doctors rubbing circles on their backs reassuringly. That, at least, was how I imagine a stereotypical therapy session to look like.

I hesitantly knocked on the wooden door. I didn't hear cries coming from behind the closed door like I expected, instead I heard faint voices.

The door flung open and a tall man with a white lab coat with the name tag 'Dr. Perez' sewed neatly on it's upper left side, was standing in front of me.

"Oh, hello, you must be Louis. Come in, we were just starting," Dr. Perez said with the same joyful tone in his voice that the receptionist on the first floor had.

Dr. Perez seemed like a nice man. His round glasses and beard made him look a few years older than his possible actual age, which seemed like 35, he just gave off a nice and welcoming vibe.

I smiled at him and entered the room not expecting half of what I saw. There weren't teary eyed teenagers lying on the floor, no doctors rubbing their backs reassuringly. On the contrary, the teens were all sitting down in a circle, almost like the ones that we did in our kindergarten class. Most of them turned their heads to look at me, immediately I felt self conscious and looked down at the floor. It's situations like this that made me regret and absolutely hate my self destructive behavior.

"You can take a seat next to Harry, he's the one with the curly hair." I heard Dr. Perez say from behind me. I skimmed the circle of teens and my eyes landed on a pale boy with emerald green eyes and brown curly hair that looked like a hassle to tame but yet it look tamed and soft. It definitely made him stand out of the crowd.