Angels in Hell (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 44

I look down at my hands nervously as I make my way over to the curly haired boy. He eats his breakfast slowly. What do I say? How do I start? Just talk, Louis! I sigh. I should really stop talking to myself. Say something now...

"Hey, Harry," I whisper.

Welcome back words. Glad you've decided to pay me a short visit. Harry looks up at me and nods, half smiling. I sit down across from him at the small table for four. It felt awkward between the two of us. I like feeling completely comfortable around him like I usually am. He glances at me every once in a while. I just stare, waiting for him to give his full attention. I don't think that will happen anytime soon. He is cute when he's mad, I must admit.

The way his forehead scrunches up and he tries to be scary by glaring at me is adorable. I don't like it when he's mad at me, however. He isn't mad quite enough to scrunch up his forehead and glare at me, but he still ignores me like his life depends on it. Also, when he's really mad at me, he rolls his eyes and runs his fingers through his hair, very aggravated. It kind of turns me on when he does that. Sexually frustrates me. I wish I could run my fingers through that hair and pull on his curls. Make him feel special in every way. Kiss that neck of his until I find his sweet spot. Then, I'll-

"Do you need something, Louis?" Harry's deep, husky, voice asks me, breaking me from my fantasy.

He looks up from his pancakes and into my eyes. I try not to look into his eyes. If I do that, I'll get lost and sidetracked and end up talking about how beautiful his eyes are again. Then, I'll talk about the rest of that beautiful face. They really are beautiful, though. The prettiest eyes I've ever seen. His nose is cute, too. I've never said that before. His lips are kissable. So pink, plump, and perfect. I would kiss them all day if I could.

"Louis?"

Why did I have to look into his eyes?

"I'm sorry," I burst out.

He frowns and looks away.

"For what?"

He sighs, looking at the people passing by. His eyes look not only tired, but sad, too. Was what we fought about that bad? Was he that hurt?

"You have nothing to be sorry about," he says before I can respond.

Harry's eyes shift over to me again.

"I was wrong," he continues. "You should have time with your girlfriend since you barely get to see her."

I cringe at the word "girlfriend." She's not my girlfriend. Well, she is... but I don't love her... It's complicated. I love Harry. I wish I could tell him that.

"You know what? We should have a day for just us two," I say.

His eyes suddenly have a sparkle in them as they look into mine.

"Really?" he asks with a huge grin that I can tell he tried to hold back.

I nod quickly. His eyes flicker to his pancakes again as he mumbles shyly,"Um... Yeah. Let's do that."

He giggles and takes a bite of his food. I adore his giggles. They make him seem like a child, which is rare. We always think of Niall as the youngest of the band because he acts like it. And when Harry does act younger, he acts younger than he actually is. Giggling, play fighting, crazy dancing, and random outburst of laughter are only a few things that Harry does that remind me of a child.

"You aren't mad anymore?" Harry asks.

"I could never be mad at you," I say, shaking my head.

A slight smile creeps across my face.

"You aren't mad at me?"

"No. I was being stupid."

"You aren't stupid."

He snickers and smiles at me.

"When are we going to hang out?" he asks quietly.

This is the most shy I've ever heard Harry. Why is he acting so nervous and shy? That's usually not like him.

"What about today?"

He nods excitedly as he takes a drink of milk. When he puts the cup back down, he has a milk mustache. Another example of why he reminds me of a child sometimes.

"You have a little something on your..." I say gesturing to my own mouth.

He's clueless, though. I take a napkin and lean foward, wiping the milk from his top lip. He raises an eyebrow when I finish.

"What the f*ck was that?" he asks.

I laugh.

"You had a milk mustache... and watch your language," I scold him. "What if there were children around?"

He pauses. Complete silence between the two of us. He looks at me with a weirded out expression.

"Why do you suddenly care? But whatever you say 'daddy'," he chuckles, picking up his plate and cup.

He put air quotes up while saying "daddy." I, however, just sit there smirking. If he only knew. I stand up, following him to the trash bins. He throws his trash away and turns to me.

"I have to change," Harry smiles, turning to the elevator.

"You don't have to change. Stay the way you are," I say cheekily.

He rolls his eyes and playfully slaps my arm.

"Okay. Thanks, Lou," he laughs.

He has been even more happy than usual since I asked about hanging out today. Am I the reason that he is smiling? I sure hope so. We enter the elevator and he presses the button to go up to our rooms.

"I have to get changed also," I state as we wait.

He nods.

"Alright. Meet me in my hotel room when you're done."

"Okay."

We glance at each other at the same time and giggle like little school girls when we look away. Both of us are standing side by side with our hands behind our backs, rocking on our feet. Us just being the man children we are. When the elevator stops on our level, we leave and enter our rooms quickly. I want to look good for Harry today. I get dressed in a pair of rolled up, dark, blue jeans; a short sleeved, grey, button up shirt; a blue jean jacket and black Converse shoes. I try my best to fix my hair into a nice quiff and I spray myself with cologne. I go into the bathroom and brush my teeth before slowly making my way into the hallway. I stand in front of his door. What am I so nervous about?

It's just Harry. My best friend. Plus, I'm acting like this is a date. We're only two buds hanging out. Nothing special... Oh, who am I kidding? Every second I spend with this damn boy is special to me.