Wide Awake (One Direction / Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 23

I DO NOT OWN THIS STORY! ALL RIGHT GOES TO *IamADirectioner*

http://www.fanfiction.net/u/3941498/IAmADirectioner Go check her out :D

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Harry's POV:

I'm no closer to solving Louis's supposed lover then Niall is to stop farting. And basically, that'll be never.

I've asked Stan, another of Louis's close mates, about any girl he might be hung up on. He didn't think so - Eleanor is his first proper love. So, kind of caught in a groove here.

I really don't know what to DO.

"Hey, Harry. Harry. Haaarrrrryyyy. Pick up the phone. PHONE. PHOOONNEEEE. Harry, the phooonee. Haaaaarrrrrrry, pick up the phooooonnnnee."

Distracted, I glance at my iPhone. It's lighting up with a phonecall. Louis recently set my ringtone to a recording of himself telling me to -

"PICK. UP. THE. PHONE. HARRY. STYLES! And stop laughing Niall, you can hear it in the recording - Oh. Oops."

Chuckling, I pick up my phone, and answer it.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Styles?"

I groan internally. My slight happiness evaporates like water on a stove. "Hey, Doc."

Dr. Henry coughs to himself. "Have you got any news on - "

"No," I interrupt, somewhat irritated. "I've got nothing. Honestly, Doctor, I don't think Louis actually likes someone else."

There's a rush of static in the background as Dr. Henry sighs. "Harry, if my suspicions are correct, this could help Louis's disorder - "

"Well, if you HAVE suspicions, then why don't you say who you think is SUSPICIOUS?" I snap at him. "Because, honestly, I have no clue."

"Really?" His voice sounds genuinely curious. "No one in mind?"

I actually hiss in frustration. "No, I already TOLD you! There is NO ONE who I think Louis could be in love with. OK?"

"Ok." He sounds weary and uncertain. "Talk to your band members. Ask them. If they don't tell you anything either, then I'll give you a more - forceful - method."

"Hey!" I exclaim in annoyance. "What do you mean, if they don't tell me anything - "

"Goodbye, Mr. Styles." The phone clicks off.

I stare at my phone incredulously, then, irritated, I toss it onto the floor. Lucky for it, it fell onto a rug, and was saved from any damage.

I find myself staring at a wall in thought. Louis's gone to Eleanor's yet again - I feel strangely annoyed at that. But this is a good time to talk to the boys.

I shrug on a beige coat over my shirt, and lasso a scarf around my neck. Before I leave, I catch a glance of mysef in the mirror.

I look... maturer.

My eyes don't seem so playful anymore. My jawbones are more pronounced. My hair isn't simply a mop of curls anymore - its messy, wavy, unorganized, with curly strands running through it. My shoulders are slightly hunched.

I touch the glass uncertainly.

Have I changed because of the past few days? Did I change... because of Louis?

I promptly ignore the thought and heave myself out door, locking it behind me. I stride towards the elevator, pushing any drifting thoughts from my mind. The only thing I'm concentrated on is Louis, and his well being.