Broken Repair (Larry Stylinson)

Moving, Guitars and Lust

It's been a really bad few days for me. I've spent most of them in my bed. I have been silly, thinking mostly about Harry, and it troubles me. What do I want from this?

I groan to myself. Why was this so difficult? He probably doesn't even care. Get over it.

How can I possibly get over it when it won't leave my mind? I've touched myself more times than I am proud of, remembering the hotel.

It's annoying me because he was so horrible to me before, and probably will still be, but I was caught up in these new emotions.

A buzz from my bedside table moves me from my mood.

Grabbing my phone, I realise it's Harry's management. Here we go...

From: Harry's Management
We need an urgent meeting. We will pick you up at 1400hrs.

I frown. What does this mean?

Then I panic. Do they know what we've done? I mean, unless Harry said anything, and I'm sure he wouldn't then they shouldn't know. Does it affect his or my contract at all?

Trying to force my anxiety back, and failing, I shower and get dressed.

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At two, I get picked up in a car, and notice Harry isn't there. Is he even coming?

Oh my god, if he is, can I even look him in the face?

My mood spirals the closer we get to the tall building, and my heart is racing when I get inside. I feel silly knowing the way to the office, but I've been here before.

I push the lift doors, wait, and get inside.

"Wait!" A voice shouts. I press the doors to stay open, and regret it when Harry jogs in, panting. Shit.

He obviously reacts the same way, eyebrows pulling together at seeing me here. He must've thought the same thing as me, when I thought he might not be here.

"Hi." He offers. I try not to roll my eyes. He had sex with me, a man, and he says 'hi'?

"Hi." I say back, gently. I turn to press the floor button, and avoid his eyes. I gulp.

Well, isn't this great. This isn't awkward at all...

I can feel Harry's eyes on me, and my heart starts to race. Remembering the hickeys, I scratch them self consciously. Stop looking at me, please.

My breath is running short, and I internally scream for joy when the lift doors open and I all but run out. Pacing the hall until I get to the room, I knock, not waiting for Harry.

"Come in." A voice shouts.

I get in the room, leave the door open, and take my usual seat to the right. I feel Harry's presence enter the room, and I feel his warmth when he sits next to me.

The faces in front of me have their usual calm about them. Nothing seems to get these worked up, other than Harry fucking girls.

"Okay," The usual man starts. I don't even know his name, but he knows mine. "We've been noticing how you guys are not getting on, and it's affecting the press about you." He drops three magazines, open to the correct page. They each have the same theme. Has Harry decided it's over with Louis? Trouble in paradise for Larry. (Whats Larry?) Harry and Louis on verge of break-up.

There are pictures of us, at the fair, the beach and most recently at a restaurant and we are scowling in some pictures. Others we are avoiding touching. There are no pictures of us looking at each other. I can see what he means. If Harry wasn't being such a dick though, people would still see pictures like before.