Larry Stylinson One Shots

Unfurling Hearts

The hallways of St. Thomas High buzzed with the usual Monday morning chatter as Harry made his way to his locker. He kept his head down, clutching his worn leather bag close. His floral button-down and soft curls had made him an easy target since freshman year. But this year, senior year, he'd finally learned to avoid most of the teasing. Unfortunately, "most" was the key word.

As he approached his locker, a familiar voice called out from across the hall. "Hey, Styles, picking flowers this weekend?" a guy from the football team sneered, nudging his friends.

Harry didn't flinch. He'd gotten used to the jokes, the whispers, and the shoves in the hallway. All he had to do was keep his head down and wait until lunchtime—when Louis would find him.

Louis Tomlinson was everything Harry wasn't: the school's star football captain, the guy everyone knew, everyone admired. He moved through the hallways like he owned them, his easy smile and quick wit making him the center of attention without even trying. The strange part—the part no one knew—was that Louis Tomlinson had chosen Harry Styles, the shy, floral-wearing boy, as his boyfriend.

Their relationship was a well-guarded secret. They'd spent countless afternoons in hidden corners of the school, stealing kisses and whispers of promises only they could hear. Louis would tease Harry endlessly, always in that affectionate way that made Harry feel like he was the only person in the world.

But lately, the secrecy had started to weigh on them both. Every time Louis walked by him in the halls without acknowledging him, Harry felt a pang. And he could see the way Louis's smile faded, just a bit, whenever he caught sight of Harry surrounded by his tormentors. They both knew it couldn't last.

At lunch, Harry slipped into his usual spot at the back of the library, near the windows that overlooked the football field. He watched as Louis jogged across it, a casual grin on his face as he tossed a football with his teammates. A few minutes later, Louis slipped away, appearing in the library with his usual confidence, but his eyes softened when he saw Harry.

"Hey, flower child," Louis whispered as he slid into the seat across from him, their fingers brushing briefly under the table.

Harry smiled, a warmth spreading through him. "Hi, Lou."

Louis looked at him for a moment, his expression shifting. "Can I talk to you about something?"

Harry's stomach tightened. "What's on your mind?"

Louis took a deep breath, leaning in. "I'm tired of this," he said quietly. "I hate pretending like I don't know you in the hallways. Like I don't care about you."

Harry's heart raced, a mixture of excitement and fear bubbling up inside him. They'd talked about this before, but Louis always hesitated. Harry knew it wasn't easy for him—the pressure from his team, his friends, his family. But now, there was something different in Louis's eyes. Determination.

"So... what are you saying?" Harry asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"I'm saying I don't care what anyone thinks anymore. I don't care if they stare or if they say things," Louis replied, his hand reaching across the table, squeezing Harry's fingers. "I want them to know. I want everyone to know."

Harry's eyes widened. He'd dreamed of this, of course, but hearing Louis say it out loud was almost surreal. "Are you sure?"

Louis's gaze was steady. "More sure than I've ever been."

Harry's heart swelled, and a nervous, hopeful smile spread across his face. "Okay," he whispered.

The next day, as students gathered on the bleachers for the big pep rally, Harry sat in his usual spot at the edge, not expecting anything out of the ordinary. The football team marched onto the field, led by Louis, who was as confident as ever. But this time, his eyes sought out Harry in the crowd, and for a moment, he held his gaze.