chances | larry stylinson

3. curls

AN: I'm so sorry I haven't updated, school sucks and I still haven't gotten my computer so it's hard to write. I'm supposed to get it sometime this week and it'll be easier to write!! 

harry's pov

I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't low-key awaiting for a phone call, or even a text from Louis. Every time I picked up my phone, I was disappointed by another blank notification screen. It had been two days since the awkward wake up call where I discovered I couldn't hold my alcohol well, and that you shouldn't get tattoos under the influence.

Midnight was approaching when my phone started buzzing against the nightstand table next to bed, the number was unknown so a part of me had hoped it was Louis.

"Harry!" The warm, familiar voice answered and a part of me began to feel giddy inside. I smiled partially before returning his greeting with a, "Hi, Louis!"

"Harry, I need your help, you see, my girlfriend is going to come to the beachfront in a few minutes and I really need a blanket! I forgot to bring one!" Louis said, worriedly. I rolled my eyes and bit my bottom lip for a few seconds.

"Would you like me to bring one?" I asked, soaking in all the pain from being attracted to a straight, taken boy.

"Sure, I'll see you later."

When I arrived to the section of the beach Louis gave me directions to, I admired the night view, the moon perfectly reflecting on the ocean. Louis arrived a few seconds later, wearing a casual outfit, a white ADIDAS shirt with skinny khaki capris that were rolled up to his knees.

"Hi, Love," Louis said, "I see you have the blanket," he added, motioning to the black blanket that I held in my arms.

"Stop calling me, Love, call your girlfriend that name," I replied, hostility.

"Funny story, I don't have a girlfriend," Louis said as I gave him a look of confusion.

"What?"

"Yeah, I made up the whole girlfriend thing, but unfortunately, I have a whole picnic basket of snacks that I can't enjoy on my own, would you care to join me?" Louis explains, getting a picnic basket from his golf cart. I look down at the ground and smile.

"What kind of snacks?" I ask jokingly, laying the blanket down on the sand as Louis joins me.

"Well, I brought my personal favorite, which is chocolate covered raisins, but considering that isn't popular among the majority of people, I figured that I couldn't go wrong with sour gummy worms," he answered, causing me to laugh at his introduction.

"And to drink?"

"Strawberry soda, of course," he replied, taking the snacks from the picnic basket.

As a few minutes go by with us munching on the candy that he brought with him, I get up the courage to ask him something.

"Why did you make up a whole story to get me to come see you?"

"I'm not good at proposals, so I didn't really know how to ask you out on a date," he replied.

"You're really outgoing, though, I don't understand," I answered.

"I'm not really all that outgoing, it's just I know what does and doesn't matter."

"Do I matter?" I ask, hoping he doesn't reject me as an object in his life.

"Of course you do, Love," he replies.

"I thought I told you to stop calling me that," I chuckled, jokingly.

"Ok, Curls."

"Curls? Really?"

"Why not?" Louis asked. "It's cute, because, ya know, your hair is curly. Curls."

"How creative, I never could have come up with that good of a nickname," I said sarcastically as he rolled his eyes.

"Didn't you mom teach you to be polite on the first date?" Louis asked.

"No, she just taught me not to fuck on the first date," I replied with a blank expression, seeing him burst into laughter after I said that was purely gratifying, sparking a fire in me that I didn't know existed.

"So, um, anyways, can we talk about the other night?" I asked, awkwardly.

"What is there to talk about?"

"The kissing, the tattooing, the way I acted, can you tell me what it was like? Everything's fuzzy."

"Hmm, I suppose if it will cure your conscience, I might as well explain. Shortly after the two of us got dropped off at my beach house, my friends Niall and Liam arrived, I'm not sure how much you remember, but they are party animals. It started off with a few shots, but a few turned into many and so about an hour later everyone was drunk, some more than others, meaning all of you except me didn't know what exactly was going down. And as the night continued you started slurring your words, saying things about your hopes and dreams, and your bucket list of wanting to get a tattoo.

After the word "tattoo" was mentioned, Liam nagged me to take you to get one, and you surely weren't rejecting the suggestion. After a half hour of constant begging from all three parties, I ordered us an Uber and went to the best reviewed tattoo shop around.

When the artist, Damon, asked what you wanted, you said you wanted a moth because it represents a constant state of oppression, and isn't seen as worthy because it isn't a butterfly, which is a lovely philosophy, especially for someone who previously drank their weight in Vodka." 

"And the kissing?" I asked.

"After the tattoo, you weren't feeling your best, we pulled over so you could puke, and then everyone decided to call it a night. I took you upstairs into my room and undressed you into your underwear because it gets awfully hot in my room, I made sure you drank plenty of water to ignore a severe hangover. As we laid in my bed you started getting really sentimental, and said you wanted something you've never had, something you've kept yourself away from for years. And in my defense, I was pretty drunk as well, so when you started kissing me, I was hesitant to stop it, but I knew by the things you said, it was more than drunken hookups that you were missing out on, and that clearly closed the window for me, so I backed off and let you sleep."

"Most guys probably wouldn't have done that, it's very noble of you," I said to him, feeling completely embarrassed. "But did I really puke?"

"Everywhere," Louis said, laughing. "It's okay, it is what it is."

"But that means I kissed you with puke breath, and the worst part is, I don't even remember it, you were my first kiss, and I don't remember it at all" I sighed.

"Harry," Louis said, taking my hands into his. "Here's one to remember," he whispered as he leaned in, pressing his lips against mine.

He was so good at kissing, his lips felt soft and the way he moved in rhythm made it a moment of pure ecstasy. In that moment, I forgot about how shitty my life was, I forgot about my parents, school, my family and everything else that didn't align in the stars. He was a sliver of consistence, he was my perfect distraction from the life I wanted to get away from so desperately.

"That was memorable," I spoke quietly as we pulled away.

"And you didn't even have puke breath!" He said, cheerfully.