Lots of Love [l.s. AU]

2

Dear Harry Styles,

I've come to realize and recognize that you aren't receiving my letters. Which, I guess, I am okay with. I never really expected to be noticed by you. This is just my venting point.

You were on my TV today. Well, not literally. You were being interviewed.

Obviously, you know this because it was you, and you were there, but something caught my eye. Michael was there, and you were sitting on that green couch up on the stage, but you were on opposite sides. When you guys were asked to kiss by that girl on Twitter, it looked so awkward. Forced, if I have to say it. The weirdest thing was that you kept touching this thing in your shirt pocket. I couldn't tell what it was, but Michael was glaring at your chest out of the corner of his eye like it was venom. Which, it isn't. I've seen your chest, your gorgeous body, your toned muscles and glorious tattoos, and it's wonderful; truly a sight to look at. Whatever it was, I guess it's important. Would you mind telling me about it? I would love to listen.

Niall came over again. Remember him? Niall Horan, the Irish dolt known as my friend. One of my only, honestly. Anyway, we watched you together, and then we ordered three pizzas. The crazy part? We ate all three. Well, technically I ate half of a single one and Niall ate the rest. But still. That's a lot of food, isn't it?

I kind of think I'm jealous of your life. I see you on magazines with different girls. (Trust me, I'm not jealous about the "girls" part. I'm gay as hell, but the fact that you can pick up a relationship so easily makes me restless). I watch you step out of your limo, styling a new fashion line every single night. And I almost want to make it bother me, to have something against you for being so perfect. Nothing comes to mind, though. If anything, I am sorry for you. I'm sorry that you have to face paparazzi, and that you don't have enough free time to do something so simple as sit down, watch Netflix, and stuff your face with takeout. And you always have to watch what you do.

Honest, I think you would be a flower if you could. If you were free, open to do whatever without judgement, and blowing with the slight sway of the spring breeze, I can see you being a flower. Brightly colored, careless of surroundings, and too innocent for your own good. I believe that the media is what changed you, not age. And I just want you to know, if we ever meet, and if we ever start dating, I will treat you like the prettiest flower in the bouquet, and I would love you with everything I had, and the entire world would see us and think, "Oh, Harry is rich, so he must be Louis' sugar daddy." They would be so dead wrong, though. I would be your Daddy, and you could even be my Baby Boy and you wouldn't be judged for anything that you did, no matter how frilly it is, no matter how damaging it is to your "bad boy" rep. You'd be my flower; the only everlasting flower in the vase.

I go shopping with my friend Eleanor every Saturday, and we go to the mall. She likes you too. I told her a bit about these letters a few days ago. She says hi. I met her online, actually, at a chat room for discussing what was, at the time, the most important thing in my life; you. I think we talked about your hair for an hour and a half before we actually started to get to know each other. I found out she lived near me, in London, which was only a short distance from my home, in Doncaster. Her and I both love Victoria's Secret, too, so that's a big plus. I barely buy anything, though, because of my low financial situation. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have you as a sugar daddy. Hmm.

How are you? (Day 2 of me actually remembering to ask. We'll see how long that actually lasts). I heard you're going to see a movie premiere with Liam and Zayn, but most importantly, not Michael. I hope you have fun, and I know you'll look absolutely dashing. You should wear your green head scarf and brown boots, as well as your black skinny jeans. Go casual, trust me. You'll be all over the internet, and girls will spend hours reblogging pictures of you in that outfit. I'm sure it will be all over my timeline.

Other than that, nothing else is really going on. I'm trying to scrap together enough money to get decent seats for your concert. I don't know, though. If I don't get a chance to see you, I know you will still do good. And, anyway, you're playing two nights, so maybe the tickets for the second night will be a little cheaper. Hopefully.

Lots of love,

Louis Tomlinson

I'm back up and running with this story x
-Grace