Angels in Hell (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 6

February 21st, 2013

Alternate Universe

"That soup was really good!"

"Thanks, Mr.- erm... Louis."

"Mr. Louis? That sounds silly, Nialler!"

We all laugh as I gather the dishes and put them in the sink.

"You're right, Harry. Mr. Louis makes me sound like a preschool teacher," I say.

Harry laughs and drinks the rest of his milk, afterwards leaving a milk mustache. Niall grabs a napkin and wipes it away. Harry scrunches his face up and giggles.

"Why'd you wipe it of? It made me look manly!" Harry whines.

Niall and I laugh.

"I don't know if "manly" is the word," I say as I pick up Harry.

"I'm manlier than Niall!" Harry whispers in my ear.

I laugh.

"Maybe," I reply as we glance at Niall who is washing the dishes and singing a Selena Gomez song.

"Yeah. Yeah, you are."

Harry burst out in laughter and puts his head in my shoulder. Niall looks at us and smiles. He gives me a look that I recognize. I got it from the boys a lot when they needed advice or just a good talk. The "we need to talk" look.

"Hey, Harry. Why don't you go to your room and play?" I ask Harry.

"Okay. But only if you promise to tell a story."

I grin. It's not the first time I've heard him say something like that...

*Flashback*

"Tell me a story, Lou," Harry said in the bed across from mine.

We were on tour. The UAN tour. It was a long trip that was over 6 hours. Harry and I were laying down down while the other three boys were in the livingroom area of the bus playing video games and messing around on twitter. It was late and Harry was super tired. He convinced me to lay down with him. So, I lay in my bed and he did in his. It was completely quiet until Harry asked this random question.

"A story?" I asked turning my head to face Harry.

He was already looking at me. The sides of his mouth curved up and he nodded.

"What kind of story?" I asked.

He shrugged.

"A story. A true one. Something that happened to you."

"I'm not good at telling stories, though."

He huffed.

"Come on! A true story! It's not that hard!" Harry whisper-yells.

I rolled my eyes and loosly rolled my head back. I look at the bottom of the bunk above me. At the smoothness of its surface and the screws that held it together. Funny how you notice the things you've never noticed before when there is nothing left to notice.

"Why don't you tell a story then? If it's so easy."

"I never said it was easy," Harry said. "It just isn't hard."

"That makes no sense!"

"It makes sense. You just think to much."

"Or you think too little."

"Ha. Ha. You're so funny," he said sarcastically.

"I know," I said turning back to him with a cheeky smile.

His tongue poked out of his mouth. I laughed and cleared my throat.

"Are you going to tell a story?"

"No. I asked you to tell a story."

"But I can't."

"Can't?"

"I can't."

"You're a loser."

"Excuse me?"

"Only losers can't."

I rolled my eyes.

"Then, teach me how to tell a story."

He laughed.

"You can't teach someone how to tell a story."

"But I can't."

"Come on you boob! We wrote two books!"

"Yeah... but I wrote it down. I didn't just... tell it."

"It's not just telling a story that matters."

"Sorry, what?"

"You can't just "tell a story". You have to feel it. Tell it with emotion and passion. It has to mean something... it has to be so much more than a story."

I chuckled to myself.

"Damn. You are very particular about your bedtime stories."

He laughed and looked into my eyes with his beautiful green ones. Even though it was dark in the bus, the street lights streaming through the blinds as we drove on gave enough light to see Harry and his angel eyes.

"I'm just preparing you for the future."

"The future?" I questioned as he slid out of his bed.

He walked over to my bed and casually cuddled next to me. I smiled as he wrapped his arms around me.

"Yeah. I'm going to want another story someday," he whispers. "I know it."

*End of Flashback*

He knew it.

"Yeah. I'll tell you a story," I say with a smile.

"Good," he says running out of the kitchen.

Faintly, I can hear his footsteps make their way up the stairs. I turn to Niall and grin at him.

"Come to the livingroom?" I ask gesturing to the door.

"Sure."

We slowly make our way into the livingroom and take a seat on the couch.

"Did you need something, Louis?" Niall asks.

I shake my head.

"I just thought you did."

"Why?"

"Well, you were giving me a strange look and randomly smiling at me."

He nods and smiles once again.

"I was just thinking about how crazy this is. That you are actually from an alternate universe... It's insane!"

I nod in agreement.

Oh yes, youngling. It is very much insane.

"You have no idea how great it is that Harry has someone like you. He was miserable before."

"At least he had you."

"For a few hours. Then I had to leave. Plus, he didn't want me. He wanted a dad. A dad that loved him. And now, he might actually have just that. I don't think I've ever seen Harry quite this happy."

I smile and look down. I didn't think my arrival meant that much. Or I made Harry that happy. Apparently I do.

"Harry constantly talked about his "dream daddy". He would say things like, "he would play with me" or "he would kiss me goodnight". He would just name all of things his "dream daddy" would do. All thing "Mr. Tomlinson" never did. I guess you're his "dream daddy"."

I look up at Niall. All he said was genuine. Truth. He meant it all.

"I would be honored to be his "dream daddy"," I say.

He smiles showing his old, crooked, teeth.

"I'm glad."

"So am I."

So am I.