Broken Repair (Larry Stylinson)

Wet Towels and Practice

I get just inside the house, and I curl up just in the door.

What the fuck?

If that had been a real date, I wouldn't go back again. But I have to date this... bi-polar and extremely straight man. And bloody famous at that. Could I handle this? I punch the wall beside me with the side of my fist, and flinch at the pain. I don't think I can, but I've signed something. And I made a promise to Harry, because I really didn't want him to ruin his career. Is it really worth it with management like that breathing down your neck?

"Louis?" Michael's voice calls, and I jump up quickly, panic stricken, and compose myself. He can't know that I'm not taking this well. He did so well looking after me yesterday. The door opens, and I smile, brightly.

"Alright?" I say, and he looks puzzled.

"Yeah, I'm alright." His eyebrows furrow. "Didn't you just hear a bang?" I pull my eyebrows together in mock confusion.

"No." I tilt my head and shrug my shoulders, and continue into the house. He quickly follows behind me, probably about to give me 20 questions about how it went.

"So." he initiates, and I roll my blue eyes, collapsing into the sofas, a little mentally exhausted. "How did it go? I can't believe your technically dating Harry. Weird." I huff out a small laugh.

"I know right. I don't really get his management, you know." I begin, getting comfortable. I'm sure to be here long. "Well, it was okay. Was a bit weird, but you probably would expect that. Me being massively gay, him not." Michael laughs.

"Yeah, you know, I always thought Harry was gay the first time I met him," He says, with a smirk, and this time I don't have to pretend to be confused. Harry being gay? Even picturing this man in my head, and I cannot imagine.

"You're joking! He oozes heterosexuality, Michael. If I had a vagina, he'd be all over it." I say. Well, surely. How many pictures is he in with girls on the front of magazines and newspapers. Actually, I think that probably sounds big-headed of to include me.

Although, he did say most of them were friends.

"Well, look at him, Lou." He gestures to thin air. "He wears girly tops, and his hair is getting pretty long now." He says, and yeah. I guess I can see it. I liked his hair long, though. It wasn't as curly, but it framed his face well. I couldn't imagine being attracted to him when he was on the X Factor, I feel like a paedophile.

I can't say I don't find him attractive because I do. I would be stupid not to. He's stunning with his lovely, messy brown locks that framed his face. He was tall, too. I'm not in this for the relationship though, it's to help him out.

"I suppose. Either way, I know he only like those girls." I respond. "And I would just like to say, he's pretty fashionable."

"You're beating around the bush. The meal." He simply states, and I sigh.

I tell him all about the meal, leaving out Harry's angry outburst.

"Sounds like it went pretty well, mate. Did you see any paparazzi?" He inquires. Actually, come to think of it I wasn't looking. Harry did keep my attention off of that.

"Nope." I pop with my lips.

"Oh well, I'm sure we will find out tomorrow morning." He laughs.

I believe we will. Hopefully, there are no pictures of our outburst.

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I rouse the next morning, to the brilliant light filtering through my curtains. I groan, trying to cover my eyes. Whose idea was it to have white curtains that let all the light in? Oh yeah, you.