Tomlinson & Styles | Larry Stylinson Fanfic

1.3

Thank you all sm to the people that still vote and read this book despite being on hiatus for basically two years now. Thank you all sm, it means the world! <3

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It's dinner time now; six hours after Harry found out....that information about Louis that he honestly wasn't sure if he wanted to hear it or not.

His mind hasn't been at rest, and guilt has been pooling at the pit of his stomach since. His hands were shaky and he couldn't peel his eyes of Louis' house.

Eventually Marcel came home, and although he wasn't expecting a fancy dinner, nor a full buffet, he was a bit disappointed to see that there was no food prepared.

His grandmother was drinking her mug of tea with the television on, watching Never Have I Ever, and her feet reclined. However his curly haired brother was no where to be found.

He searched the entire house-top to bottom; where construction is going on, his bedroom, bathroom and heck even the attic but still nothing. He asked his grandmother about Harry was and was suprised when she said that he went out for some groceries cause they were out of pasta and a few other things.

So with that he relaxed and had his shower, happy that when he returned Harry was back and was chopping an onion.

"Took your time." Marcel told Harry and leaned against the was with his arms crossed, admiring the younger boy because he sucks ass at cooking. And if it were him, the house would burn down and the food would taste like feet.

"I know, it was a long walk away."

"Why didn't you just call an uber or something?"

"Out of money currently, paid what little I had to finish off my months suppy."

"Supply of drugs?" Harry nodded and Marcel sighed, requesting Harry too seek help about his drug addiction and too maybe talk to a therapist, or someone about all the fighting and the divorce happening between their parents. Maybe even talk about ways to cope without being drunk, or high.

However Harry quickly shut the idea down, and stated that he wasn't addicted to drugs-he isn't, genuinely, but he did find himself craving a fix whenever his stress level went bizarre-that drinking at his age is normal and that he's doing fine with everything.

Of course nobody believed him, which made Harry so ticked off because he really didn't understand why his family wouldn't just listen to him and trust himself? He knows himself better than anyone, and it bothered him how much they tried to tell him what he felt, and that he was basically wrong for thinking that he felt that way because they know better.

"How are things with Louis?" Marcel asked, trying to get of the pervious topic because Harry was visibly becoming angry and agitated.

"What does that mean?"

"I mean I saw the two of you yesterday and well....you know, it was a bit much."

Harry hummed and started working on his sauce for the pasta, which was already boiling.

"It's nothing. I just like to piss him of, and that works so I guess it's a win." Harry said, frowning at how his chest clenched and his brain reliving the conversation he had with his grandmother.

"And is Louis okay with this?"

"He pushes me off and complains but never does anything to really stop me. Besides, I uh...may have sucked his dick this morning..." Harry mumbled the last bit and looked at Marcel who acted as if he didn't catch on.