Parallel Lines » Larry Stylinson

Chapter 17 - Harry

Niall crackles obnoxiously at some joke I don't remember making. I think I said something about naked potatoes's buttocks or something. I can't even remember. All I can think about right now is where he is and what he's doing. He's with her, of course, they left a couple of minutes ago, giggling and all that. He looked rather amused after she whispered in his ear.

I'm butthurt, bummed, and oh god I have to stop making butt jokes.

What did I do wrong? Why must she show up like that, then whisk him away, from me. He went willingly, just like that.

He looked so happy. He looked really happy. And I want him to be that way, but not when he isn't with me.

She makes him so happy, don't I make him happy? I can make him laugh, right, but he doesn't even like my lame jokes. Eleanor can make him laugh just by whispering something in his ear, and oh god, I wonder what she said.

They're probably back in their room right now, doing something, and oh god, I need to stop thinking about it.

"Oi Harry! You zoned off," Niall nudges me in the ribs.

"Ow," I whine, and roll my eyes at him. "I'm just thinking."

"Bout what."

I nod at the ladder leading out the pool and he climbs out after me. "Dunno, just thinking, I guess."

"Eh. You hungry?" he wraps his towel around his waist and ruffles his blonde hair. There are already brown roots.

"Not really," I mumble, frowning. Louis had left his phone next to mine on the deck chair. How could he have forgotten his phone?

I grab it, along with mine, and follow Niall into the hotel.

"Well I am," he says. "Let's head out or something."

"Sure," I say. "Let me go put on some clothes first."

We part ways, me heading back to my room and he to his. I change into a lose shirt, because that gets me a lot of attention from the media, and I also like the flower patterns on it, and a pair of skinny jeans which are too tight.

I stare at his phone in my hands, and frown. How can he possibly forget his phone? Sighing, I slip it into my pocket and head outside. Niall is sitting outside my door, on the floor, looking at his phone.

I kick him lightly in the shin, and he stares up at me, a goofy smile on his face.

"What are you smiling at?" I ask, plopping down beside him. Yes, two grown men from a boy band sitting in the hallway of a hotel room, heads pressed together over a tiny iPhone screen. "Let me see," I whine.

Niall laughs and shoves the phone in my face. There it is, Louis and I, my lips pressed against his, or his pressed against mine. I can't tell. Both our eyes are shut tight, and his hands are tangled in my hair. My chest tightens. This is incredible.

"Where did you find this?" I ask, not bothering to hide my smile.

"It was on twitter," Niall says in between laughter. "Someone sent it to me," he explains.

"It's good though."

"Photoshopped," Niall says.

"No shit," I roll my eyes, part of me wishing it was true. It looks so real.

"You don't mind these things do you?" Niall says. "I see these kind of things every day." He laughs again. "Really like looking at 'em."

"Yeah, they're cool," I laugh sheepishly, ignoring the fact that Niall likes looking at these things. Well, Niall will be Niall, and that's what Niall does. Weird shit that involves the fans.