Wish from a shooting star (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 8 (Enjoy it while it lasts)

Harry's Pov:

The rest of the night was pretty calm. I wake up before Louis does and as my eyes slowly open and adjust to the light, the first thing I notice is Louis' hand that is curled around my waist and his chest pressed against my back. It takes me a while to realize that he's spooning me from behind. He is the big spoon, I am the little spoon.

It's as if we were trying to stay as close as possible during sleep. Maybe it's weird that I find this comforting.

They weren't right about Louis, he's not using me for anything. After tonight, I'm pretty convinced about that. Louis is a good person, he wouldn't just randomly become friends with me and act all nice and everything just because he wants to fuck me, that doesn't sound like Louis. Plus, if that's what he really wanted, he would have done it by now. It doesn't matter why he decided to talk to me, I'm glad either way. Just because after he came into my life I almost chopped off my finger doesn't make the time I have spent with him less important.

And to be honest, I think the time I have spent with him has made me the happiest I've ever felt. I guess I was scared to admit it to myself but I'm not anymore.

He might have crossed the friend-zone a few times. The scary part is, I think we both have.

The silence is eventually broken by the soft rustle of the bedsheets as Louis begins to stir. "Mornin' babe," he mumbles into my hair as he pulls me closer to his chest.

"Good morning," I whisper with a my cheek muscles lifting, creating an upward arc of my lips.

"You know, I don't think my parents've ever seen me wake up next to someone wearing nothing but boxers."

I swat his arm. "Well, I'd hate to break the tradition then," I tease, turning over to face him. His eyes are still closed, but a smile plays on his lips.

"It's definitely a sight worth seeing," he points out, opening one eye to peek at me.

We stay in bed for a few more minutes, just because we're too lazy to get up, but eventually we do. Before we go downstairs, I change into some clothes since I don't need Louis' family to see me only in my underwear.

My dad said he'll pick me up before nine due to the fact that he has to be at work by nine thirty. He normally doesn't work over the weekend, but my mom and sister are going away next week for five days, Friday through Tuesday, so it's gonna be just me and Dad and he thought it'd be nice if he's going to be able take a few days off to spend more time with me.

Since we woke up a little after eight, after we finish breakfast, we don't have much time to do anything afterwards because my dad's already here to pick me up.

I couldn't wait for the next weekend. Some people may call it childish, watching the stars, but I don't really care, because I'm going to spend time with Louis and that's what's important.

The worst starts on Monday, when I have to go to school again.

I go have a wee first, brush my teeth, hair, and all that. After I give my face a quick splash with water and pat it dry with a towel, I stare at my reflection in the mirror and let out a sigh, my breath fogging up the mirror's surface.

My eyes trace the contours of my body. It's as if the glass has a magnifying power that accentuates every single flaw, every imperfection that I've ever obsessed over. I lift my chin, scrutinizing my face, the angles and lines that form my features. There's a softness to my jaw that I've never quite learned to love. It's not defined enough, not like the ones I see on other boys my age, but all I want is to blend in.

My cheeks are too round, holding onto the remnants of the baby fat that never quite liked either. Nor do I like the shape of my nose, or the color of my eyes. I imagine what it would be like to have piercing blue eyes like Louis does. Eyes thats could capture anyone's attention from across the room, instead of these stupid green ones that seem to shrink into the shadows.