Broken Repair (Larry Stylinson)

Phone Calls and Girls

I haven't heard from Harry for about a week now.

I did text him. In fact as soon as he had left. I don't know what had come over me. I mean, I did, but it was definitely not acceptable. Not when he wasn't gay, and this was an arrangement.

To Harry:
I'm really sorry. It wasn't meant to go like that, and I didn't mean to scare you. Lou x

I didn't get a reply, of course. I didn't really expect one. Not after my behavior. I took advantage of his erection, that, and me being gay. I enjoyed what happened. Forgetting that Harry was, in fact, straight.

I didn't try to text again. Learning from experience has taught me to leave a man alone when he's pissed off.

I use this time though, to look at the internet about me. It was everywhere though. Twitter. Facebook. Tumblr. About me and him. I see the pictures of us kissing at Michael's party, and I'm surprised to see the intensity behind our kiss. I could see why they made sure me and Harry were together. We did look very close.

I also see the pictures of us eating, and I'm glad to see they are of us smiling, and it looks like were enjoying each others company. I think we look just like friends, and I wonder if that's why Harry came round last week to improve on how we looked together.

I scroll back up to the top of the news, and I'm shocked to see Harry. Harry and another girl. Kissing. Dated after last week. Anger thrills through me, and I'm surprised at the intensity.

I shouldn't be jealous. He's not mine. Only pretend, and I shouldn't feel the need to protect what I don't have.

You wish he was.

I don't. I can't. Not after him. I couldn't after the way it ended. It broke me.

I throw my phone across the room. I don't really want to see it anymore. What am I supposed to do? I'm contracted to be with him, and he's openly ruining that I was helping him. I thought he cared about his music?

My phone starts to ring, and a slowly get up from the chair to reach it.

It's my sister, Lottie.

"Hello?" I drawl, sitting myself at the end of my bed.

"Louis. Harry Styles. Talk to me." She squeals. I groan. She's young, and has definitely heard of One Direction. Although, who hasn't?

"What is there to say?" I grumble. "We're together."

"Is that all?" She says. "This is the Harry Styles were talking about. You don't sound too thrilled about it, Lou."

"I know." I sigh. "I'm sorry, I'm not in a very good mood."

"Was it the pictures on the internet?"

I blanch. Does everyone know?

"You've seen those?" I groan.

"Of course I have. They're all over Twitter."

Twitter. I haven't used that in a long time.

"I don't know what to do about it either way. It was going so well." I hated lying to her, but I had to uphold his image, even if he wasn't playing along.

"Ring him and tell him what for, Lou! You shouldn't stand for this. Tell him it's over." I can almost hear her pointing her finger.

Should I? I mean, technically, he's already breaching his contact. And it would mean I wouldn't see him again.

But that means you would never see him again. Are you sure about this?

I have to do something.

"I-Okay, I'll do it. Thanks for talking to me, Lottie. Love you." I tell her. I miss her and my mum so much. Being away from Doncaster does get me down.

"Aw, not a problem. Love you!" She shouts at the end, and I pull the phone away from my ear.

I rub my ear to help sound to return. I then look down at my phone. I gulp. Am I going to do this?

Fuck you, Harry Styles. Yes.

Pressing Harry's name, I bring the phone up to my ear.

Ring, ring.

Ring, ring.

Ring, ring.

Just when I think he won't answer the line opens.

"Hi?" I gulp at the sound of his low, raspy voice. It reminds me of him moaning into my ear.

Get over it, Tomlinson. Time to show him who is boss.

"Hello." I say. Is that all? Come on.

"Louis?" He says a bit more clearly. He sounds a bit shocked. It steels my resolve. Yes, it's me Louis, you asshole.

"Yes. It's Louis. Do you remember? The one who signed that contract?" I am quiet, but it sounds threatening. Good.

"I-"

"No. Let's not. You've breached your fucking contract by kissing that other girl. So it's over. Done. Bye now." I angrily press to hang up.

My blood is pumping hard around my system, and I'm shaking. I pace around my room, every now and then, running my hands through my hair.

I'm aware of my phone ringing. I ignore it.

It rings again.

At least 5 times.

Why should I care? He obviously doesn't need me. He can date that other girl. For a year.

I pick up my phone, and also pick up my cigarettes. I decide I need to leave the house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Walking around the park, I kick the tufts of grass nearby. I'm so angry. It annoys me.

I was sure I stopped myself from feeling like this. I had locked out those emotions. Any emotions to do with love. Including jealousy.

Why were they surfacing now? Just because I had kissed him, and he had reacted. He told you before that kissing was sure to make him hard.

He grabbed you back.

That means nothing. I kick a flower off it's stem, and watch it fly through the air.

Grumbling, I decide to sit down on the bench and watch the world go by.

You would be so much better off not having any of this. I tell myself. You aren't ready, and he will never love you back.

What was the point of going through all that pain again? I was sure to get some attachment to Harry, and after the year was up, I would be back to square one, with him and Harry to get over.

My phone rings, interrupting my awful mood. Looking at the caller ID, I see it's Harry's management.

"Hello?" I answer. Let's get this over with.

"Mr. Tomlinson. We will have someone pick you up. We need to talk. Same place as before." Someone states and hangs up the phone.

I look at my phone in confusion. Quick and simple. I step up to go home, certain it would be there that I was being picked up from.