Larry Stylinson Fanfictions

Come In With The Rain

I'm warning you guys, this one has a lot of fluff in it. I started crying when I wrote some of it.

And I'm the author.

Anyway, enjoy!

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*Harry*

"I could go back to every laugh

"But I don't wanna go there anymore"

As I lay in my bed, my mind tries to go back to the times we joked around, laughed like we didn't have a care in the world.

But I don't want to think about those times. I don't want to go there. It will only make me realize that what we had... it was never real. He never actually loved me like I love him.

And it makes me cry.

Every.

Single.

Time.

"And I know all the steps up to your door

"But I don't wanna go there anymore"

I know every step to take to go to his flat.

It's right down the hall.

But he never used to go in there to sleep. We always shared my flat.

And now...

Every single step... It's too painful.

I can't go there anymore.

I'd cry. I'd beg. But he probably wouldn't take me back anyway.

"Talk to the wind

"Talk to the sky

"Talk to the man with the reasons why

"And let me know what you find"

I'd heard Louis talking to the wind before, when it whistled past the balcony. He thought I'd been asleep.

I'd heard him talk to the sky when the wind was absent. When it didn't whistle past our - well, mine, now - balcony. He never knew I was awake.

I'd heard him talking to God. When he was sick of talking to wind that wasn't there, when he was sick of staring at a blue sky that didn't make any noise. He couldn't see or feel my eyes staring right at him from the bed we shared.

And he always spoke about our relationship. But he never spoke of it in a positive way. Sure, he did, but that was only very few times. And those few times had very large spaces in between.

He always told me that he found something better for us to do, but he never knew that I'd listened to his one-sided conversations and knew that he was lying.

But I'd rolled with it.

"I'll leave my window open

"Cause I'm too tired at night to call your name

"Just know I'm right here, hoping

"That you'll come in with the rain"

I leave the balcony doors open all the time. I'm too tired to call out for him, though, even though all I'm doing now is sleep, sleep, sleep.

I'm always here, hoping, praying that, by some amazing miracle, he'll come back and apologize and we'll be together again.

But I'm starting to lose faith now.