Given a Chance (Larry Stylinson)

Part Eight

Louis didn't end up seeing Harry again for almost a week. It wasn't deliberate; they were both just busy. A friend Harry wrote with was in town for a few days, and Harry had offered on multiple occasions for the three of them to hang out or have dinner, but Louis politely declined each time. He had his soccer coaching, and Reggie, and he totally wasn't avoiding Harry after his love confession or anything.

But when Harry texted him that night, almost a full week after their dark day(s), Louis was disappointed to tell him that he couldn't hang out, because he truly did miss him. He had a week to stew over their talk and everything that Harry had told him; he had over-analyzed the situation on three different occasions with Niall and had lost count of the times he'd done it alone. So after six days, Louis was definitely ready to see him again.

It's 25 cent wing night at Buffalo Wild Wings. You game?

Wish I could mate !!!! but I'm sick :(

Oh :( What's wrong?

Idk but it's AWFUL. I think it's the flu. i'm pretty sure i'm dying !

Oh no! That's too bad. I'm sorry you're sick! Drink lots of fluids. (And please don't die.)

And, right. That was it, then.

Louis would just drink a lot of fluids and totally not be in love with Harry Styles or anything.

Cool.

Easy.

Great instructions--he'd get right the fuck on that.

Louis sighed loudly to himself again, locking his phone and tossing it to the other side of the bed, curling up on his side in his pathetic state.

Reggie was curled up at the end of the bed (because Louis was sick and needed to cuddle somebody, dog hair be damned), and Louis found himself numbly staring at the blinking telly across the room, wishing that he wasn't so sick so he could have had dinner with Harry. But considering he had spent the last few days cocooned in a pile of snotty tissues and empty water bottles, it was probably best he didn't see anybody.

Louis continued to pout long after that while he watched a couple more episodes of the mindless American reality show he had been watching all day. He wasn't really paying attention by that point, but he wasn't feeling tired enough to fall back asleep. He had been sleeping the past few days away, but no matter how sick he was, eventually his body just refused to sleep anymore.

His stupid traitorous body.

When he heard somebody knock on his door then, two hours after his last human interaction, he didn't even consider getting up. If he wasn't well enough to hang out with Harry, he definitely wasn't well enough to deal with whoever was at his door. He loved his neighbors and he loved pretty much everybody who lived in Chance, but he was sick.

He had the right to be anti-social and pouty.

At the sound of the door, Reggie quickly scurried off the bed and darted into the living room, probably standing a safe distance away and just peering at the door because--he was the least threatening dog of all time. Louis heard him give off a few breathy huffs, but heard no other attempts to guard the house from any potential danger.

His dog really sucked at being a dog.

Louis rolled over onto his side, tucking his head into the crook of his arm in his go-to comfort position and unattractively snuffled his drippy nose. He listened to the quiet sounds of the television as he shut his eyes, willing whoever was on his front porch to just give up and go away. If it was important, they'd leave a note that he'd eventually find. (It was the year 2021 and yet everybody in Chance still thought it was best to leave a note on his door instead of just texting him what the fuck. He really loved his town--but that didn't stop him from wondering why they all seemed to live in the past.)