Larry Stylinson Oneshots

When Mine is the Heart and Soul of the Song

Author: princelyharry, stylesthebrave

Summary : Fourteen years after having his heart shattered by the only man he's ever loved, Louis attempts to rekindle their relationship. It takes his best friend, a concert at Wembley Stadium, and one huge misunderstanding to curve Harry's reluctance.

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Harry fiddled with his thumbs, hands shivering from the cold. He wasn’t coming, was he?

The wind mussed his hair, and he frowned as he unsuccessfully tried to tuck it back behind his ear. He’d been doing that for the past hour, so many times that he could hardly call it styled anymore. Every time he ran his hands through the quiff that adorned the top of his head, the wind blew it right back out of place. He could hear seagulls chanting as he looked up to the sky and at the calming waves of the ocean below. The strum of a guitar and somebody’s laugh in the far distance.

He was sitting on the stairs of the pavilion, sniffling as he tried to stop his hands from shaking. He bit his thumb in an attempt to distract himself, both from the cold and from his own mind. His other hand delved inside the back pocket of his jeans to pull out a piece of paper.

My sweet darling,

Please meet me at the Clevedon Pier at 4pm on Friday. I’ll never forgive myself if you don’t come, there is something I must tell you. Don’t trust what you see.

Always know I love you, L

Harry frowned as he read the letter for about the twentieth time today. It was already nearing six in the evening and Louis was nowhere to be found. Part of him wanted to throw the letter straight into the ocean and watch it dissolve in the salty water, but another part of him couldn’t bear to get rid of it. Just in case this would be the last memory he had of Louis.

As the minutes passed and the wind continued to assault Harry, the anger began to outrule the melancholy. Standing up from his spot on the stairs, he closed his eyes and crumpled the piece of paper. But as soon as he made it to the railing of the pier and raised his arm to watch as it was carried away for good, someone caught his wrist. Harry couldn’t help the gasp that escaped him then, his head snapping around to see who was there.

He had a feeling— and a hope— but he needed to make sure.

Blue eyes and a familiar charming smile met him as the chirping of the seagulls grew louder, and Harry felt a shiver run down his spine. The hand grazed up his arm until it reached his hip, the other wrapping around his waist, and he felt a hot breath against his cheek, a contrast to his own icy skin, courtesy of the late autumn breeze. Harry wanted to wriggle himself free of Louis’ grasp, but he couldn’t seem to move, too captivated by the eye contact and too paralyzed by the heartbreak.

“I’m sorry you had to see those pictures.” Louis’ voice was quiet but piercing as he spoke, cutting through the thick air sharply even though Harry struggled to hear it over the roaring wind.

He slowly turned around to face the man behind him, forcing the arms around his waist away from him as Louis’ grip loosened a bit. He blinked a couple of times, looking up to the sky as he tried to keep the tears at bay, at least for now. He refused to start crying before he even got the chance to say anything.

“It’s not true, is it?” Harry gritted his teeth as he asked the question. His own willpower was rendered useless as the tears started pooling in his eyes despite his efforts. He tried to blink them away before they got too noticeable, shivering as the wind blew against his face.

Harry had never been one to be afraid of vulnerability, but standing on the edge of a pier, begging for his boyfriend to confirm what he already knew was true, was on a whole new level. Here, in the barreling wind of early November, so cold that he thought the tears might freeze his eyes open, he was more humiliated than ever. He was broken in a way that he had never felt before, his heart shattered.