My Own Savior || Larry Stylinson AU

Chapter 8

A/N: Thanks for reading! I don't have much to say right now, really. I hope you enjoy this! Please comment or vote if you like it. Let me know what I can change or work on! <3

Louis's POV

There should be some sort of way to go back to the past... some sort of way to stop the tape and rewind. A time machine, a magical bus, anything. If there was, I would have Friday night when I had laughed at Harry.

I wish I could have gotten out what I meant, why I actually laughed, before he shut me down. I was just so bewildered and shocked at the fact that he had been wanting to kiss me for all this time that I didn't know how else to react. It felt so unreal that if I had thought about it too long, my mind would have exploded all over the boy.

Not physically, but mentally. He would know every detail that was dug into the Harry Styles section of my brain.

The part of me that over analyzed every word I spoke to him, what color of green exactly his eyes should be called, and every tally of shivers that went down my spine when my name fell from his flawless red lips.

That thought of him knowing all that terrified me, so I had laughed instead.

He should be glad I laughed then right?... I keep trying to convince myself he should be. It was better than him thinking a was a total creep. I just didn't think about the repercussions of laughing. And dammit, I should have. Now he was angry with me. That beautiful boy with the endless torso and curls that fall in his eyes almost on purpose.

Nevertheless, I'm an idiot. I should win the Biggest Idiot of the Year award. Maybe on the whole planet even, or galaxy.

Boys like me don't deserve beautiful boys like Harry Styles. Beautiful boys called Harry don't deserve to be laughed at, but told the truth.

But there was little I could do, I had tried to talk to Harry about what happened a few times since that night, and he wasn't having it. He had completely shut down and resorted to simple "yes" or "no"s when I would make my daily round to him. I eventually dropped it all together in fear that he would grow to hate me more. 

I roll over in bed and slam my hand on the alarm to the right of me. I tossed and turned all night, unable to keep my mind off what I had fucked up between Harry and I. Now it was half six and I was physically exhausted and mentally drained. The perfect way to start out a day.

I sigh heavily as I push myself out of bed and nearly fall back from standing up so quickly. I pull on my tshirt that I had thrown off in the middle of the night and walk to the kitchen to put some tea on, as usual. The floor is cold and I can tell already that today will be a long day.

My body aches and I'm out of honey so my tea won't taste quite right.

I just want to crawl back into bed and drown out the world in a thick, dark sleep.

I want to dream of kittens and fluff and glittery fucking suspenders and not anything in my currently overwhelming life.

Since that isn't an option I shower quickly and brush my teeth as I wait for my tea to steep. I throw on a pair of my light purple scrubs since they are my favourite. Maybe they will magically make my day better. One can hope.

My hair, of course, isn't cooperating with me, so I have to use twice the normal amount of product to keep it artfully styled up in the messy quiff I like to wear.

When my tea has cooled enough to drink fairly easy, I silently thank Yorkshire Tea for saving my life so many times in these bleak early mornings. Honey or no honey, the tea is still good and it warms my insides, soothing me better than most people can.