Boots And Vans // Larry Stylinson

3. Cox and Tomlinson.

"There is no way I'm letting you get that."

I huffed, "It's a lobster roll, it's much better then the junk you're eating." The boy rolled his eyes at me, then turned to the cashier who was midway through taking our order before he decided to insult my lobster roll.

"We will get two number 2's please."

I chuckled, noticing that my order was kicked off the list. "That is definitely not what I wanted."

The cashier giggled-a sweet, fake sounding laugh- then she turned, smirked at the boy and told him the money we owed.

Instead of doing what every other boy would do- flirt back- the boy in the vans completely denied her request and dug into his blue backpack.

Before he could find his money, I pulled his hand away from the bag. He looked at me with a confused look, "I'll pay."

The blue eyed boy didn't hesitate. He just closed up his backpack and sent me a thankful smile.

While we were waiting for our processed food to be created from sugar packets and such; the boy ran off in search of a table for us to sit at. He picked a table close to the door and far from the awful smelling bathroom- perfect.

"So it looks like that girl at the cash register fancied you." I laughed as soon as I reached the table with the boy.

"Eh," he shrugged, "she's not my type."

"Ugh, please don't tell me you're one of those people who must have a girl with big boobs-"

He interrupted me with his laughter, "No- No god no. It's just a type gender-wise I guess."

"You're gay aren't you?"

The boy chuckled nodding, "And I'm guessing you are too?"

My eyes widened, "How did you-"

"Your boots are gold, sir."

I finally noticed I haven't known his name all this time and he hasn't even known mine, "My name is Harry"

The boy smiled at the name, "and last name... You know... For future reference when we get married."

I laughed at his remark, "It's Styles. It's Harry Styles."

"Are you serious?"

"What?"

"God, your parents must have hated you."

I rolled my eyes, "It's better then Harry Cox."

The boy almost choked on his French fry, he started to squee and stomp his feet to the ground in laughter.

"Okay, okay, now I need a name for you so I can put it on our child's birth certificate." I asked once the boys laughed (more like squeeing) had come close to an end.

"Louis. Louis Tomlinson. Not as creative as Harry Cox though."

Just then, the boy got up from his seat to fill his drink. I decided to grab my white Polaroid camera (yes, it's the extremely girly ones you see in Instagram pictures (you can't blame me though, the picture quality is good and it was cheap.)) I followed the boy to where he filled his drink to the rim. Just as he began to turn his head to my direction, I snapped the photo which grabbed his attention immediately.

"Did you just take a picture of me?" The boy- who I finally know as Louis- asked as he placed the lid on his drink.

"I have this thing with photos.." I smiled, pulling out the photograph from the slot before waving it around in the air, which caused it to dry faster, "They are good for remembering wonderful memories. Like the first day I met Louis Tomlinson."