Broken Repair (Larry Stylinson)

The Heat and Fight

Warning *smut in this chapter*

Louis POV

Harry and I continued to go on our usual dates. We went to a lovely beach in Brighton. He took me to dinner in so many lovely places. We even went to the fair, went on all the rides.

Yet he continued to be so angry. He treated me like shit and we argued non-stop. The dates stopped being fun. I stopped wanting to spend time with him, period.

Worse was the way he kissed me, now. It was brief, and never as relaxed as before. He detested kissing me. I know I shouldn't have gotten used to it before, but at least I didn't feel disgusting. Like I was nothing. He was driving me insane. I didn't choose to be gay. I didn't choose to be in this situation.

Everytime I saw his face now, my blood instantly boiled. I hated hating him. He used to be so lovely. And I had got to witness the happy, loveliness that usually surrounded him.

He had turned into a monster overnight, and I couldn't see him going back.

It had been three months since we started 'dating', and I grew more depressed knowing that we had 9 more left. Why the fuck did I have to be chosen for this? Why did I kiss him? Damn Zayn and his stupid dare.

I sigh. I couldn't blame him. Not really. It wasn't fair on Zayn. He probably thought about this loads, considering his dare probably ruined one of his best mates lives.

Sitting on my bed, I fume in silence. I suppose it's better than wallowing in my usual self pity over Jack. Instead it's replaced with Harry.

I'm only angry because I know I have to go to an awards ceremony tonight with Harry as his date, and I had to spend a night in a hotel with him. His management had decided it was time that we appeared to be 'taking the next step'. They were so clever about it all. We were always in the newspapers, the latest scandal as Harry had 'come out'.

I laugh sarcastically under my breath. Harry would rather die than ever think about touching me with his pinkie finger, let alone about sex.

The music awards had been on my mind all week, since I was told about it on Monday. I talked to Michael about it, who just told me to calm down and enjoy the free drinks. I couldn't enjoy it. Harry would call me a fag again tonight at some point, and I would argue back pretending it didn't upset me.

Being bullied growing up is one thing, but in adult life is just a joke.

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Lou rings the doorbell at 5pm, and I open up, not too enthusiastically.

"Come in." I grumble. Lou frowns but shuffles past me with her bags.

I follow her into the lounge, and she turns to me with one hand on her hip and her head cocked. She looks lovely as usual.

"What's up, Lou?" She asks me. We'd gotten really close, considering I'd seen her nearly every week. I sigh.

"I dunno." I say, head down. "I'm just really nervous about tonight."

"Chin up. It'll be alright. They'll be paying attention to the boys." She smiles. Thanks. But that's the least of my worries.

She finishes getting me ready, and I'm dressed in probably the most expensive formal wear I've ever worn. Or ever will wear.

I stand in front of the mirror, gasping at the crisp white shirt and black tie around my neck. The snug fitting suit jacket, complete with matching skinny black jeans. Lou has completed the look with shiny black shoes. I'm also wearing the first set of cuff links I have ever worn.