I Hate My Stepbrother (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 4- Whatever.

Not edited.

Whatever, I didn't care about Harry anyways.

He was just this stupid  snobby stuck up rich kid, who only cared about him self...And getting off on innocent adorable sweethearts like me.

I heard the sound of the door downstairs slamming closed signalling that Harry was back from, where ever the hell he was.

I stayed in bed all morning to tired from being sad and disrespected. Mom warned me their would be days like this. I just didn't know they would happen so soon.

When I first told my mom that I wanted to wear girls clothes she warned me that people were going to disrespect me, call me names, and treat me different from other boys. But she told me not to worry and always keep my head up high.

She told me that she didn't care what I wore as long as I was happy, she was happy.

That's why I have so much love and respect for my mom she would love me no matter what I did. She knows of my 'whorish' ways very clearly. She's gotten any calls from school about it.

And of course she'd scold me for it, doing it at school I mean. But she never once in her life judged me. And that is what I'm most thankful for.

So, ever since I told her she immediately took me to the mall to shop with her. She said she always wanted a daughter, but didn't mind having a son.

But she always wanted to know how it felt like 'shopping with her daughter'. And now that I wear girls clothes, she could do that.

So in a way, I'm making both of us happy. And that makes me happy.

But she was right about the advice she gave. I did get bullied at school. And people did treat me different. And now I'm being disrespected, just like she predicted. But at least I'm prepared to keep my head up, like she always said to.

"Louis time for breakfast!" Mom shouted. Speak of the Queen. I know I usually refer to myself as the Queen but face it, I'm a princess compared to mom.

I put on a simple 'chill day' outfit then, I slowly drag myself out of Harrys room and down the stairs. "But moooom."

I whined "I don't want breakfast! I don't feel well." I lied trying to avoid sitting at the table with that thing.

"Louis, what's wrong?" You're not warm." Mom said walking over to me and putting a concerned hand on my forehead.

  I nuzzled into the touch leaning into my mom for a hug like a big baby, whining into her shoulder.

"Come on Boo bear, atleast eat a little bit for me." She asked.

I heard Harry snickering in the background, so I subtly flipped him off before pouting while sitting in the seat farthest away from the curly head green eyed monster.

I sat down reaching for the salt shaking it on my eggs before eating my unwanted breakfast.

Why does the conflict always happens at the table? Maybe this is a good excuse for a diet... Or to get out and explore Cheshire.

Rick came through the door with work clothes on, kissing my mom on the cheek and mumbling a "goodmorning, running a bit late." To Harry and I, before quickly spooning foods onto his plate and sitting down to eat.

"If your running late you could always get breakfast on the way to work." Mom said with concern in her voice

"And miss out on this breakfast my lovely Wife made, no chance." He grinned up at her making her blush. I looked in my peripheral vision and saw Harry rolling his eyes, not so subtly.

I didn't understand why he hated my mom and his dad being married so much. I thought it was cute, and I was happy to see them so happy.

"Pass the salt." Harry said breaking me out of my trance of thought. I looked up to see those emrald eyes turn dark as he glared at me.

"I don't know... Don't you think I'm way too much of a filthy whore to pass the salt." I grumbled loud enough for everyone to hear, making Rick choke on his eggs.

Mom went over to pat him on the back. When he regained a little bit of composure he coughed out a 'what?!'

"Did you call him that?!" Rick asked glaring at his son.

"But he is dad! Just look at him!" Harry stood pointing at me. I looked down confused.

I was wearing a pink furry The North Face jacket with cheetah print leggings and pink Uggs to match the jacket. My soft brown hair pulled into a messy quiff. I shrugged and continued eating my toast. He's just hating.

"You know what, I have to get going. But we will talk about this later young man!" He said with a stern point of the finger. He kissed my mom on the cheek before darting out the door.

Harry glared at me once more before my mom put a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"I'll leave you guys to talk things through. Now I don't want you guys to come out until your friends."

"But mom-"

"No buts." She said walking out of the kitchen and closing the door that locked from the outside.

I groaned before picking down at my food. I didn't want to kill him with my whorish eyes.

Whore death rays might shoot out of them and kill everyone in sight. Because I'm a whore and all. And that's what whores do apparently.

I heard Harry sigh and looked up to see him getting out of his chair and walking towards me. "Get the hell up." He groaned grasping my arm jolting me out of my chair.

Eh, why the hell is he even bothering me? I might get whore juice all over his hand. What's whore juice anyways? Sperm? Whatever. I want his whore juice... I'm not making things any better for myself.

He picked me up like a feather throwing me over his shoulder. "What the fuck dude, put me down!"

I gasped hitting his back until he sat me down on the counter, scooting in between my legs. "I'm sorry I called you a whore." He said poking me in the nose.

"Yeah motherfuckin' right you are." I said crossing my arms.

"Your right I'm not. But I don't want to be here and neither does you so, how about we pretend we're friends and I take you out for icecream?"

"Maybe I do want to be in here you don't know my life." I said rolling my eyes.

"Louis." He said serious now.

"Fine." I sighed "I'll go out for icecream with you. No funny moves."

"Whatever." He groaned heading towards the door to tell my mom that we "made up" and was going to go out for icecream.

"You coming or no?" He said with a smirk.