Companionless || Larry Stylinson/Loucel AU

02

I know I said I didn't care about my appearance, but for once, I truly felt horrendous.

The boy in front of me stood slumped over a little, if it weren't for the awkwardly fitting vest, he would have been able to reach his actual height.

His hair was professionally slicked back, even sporting a pair of non prescription glasses. The long sleeve shirt and weird trousers pulled off the whole 'don't talk to me' look, also hiding the ink etched into his skin, the brief case and polished shoes making him look even more socially awkward.

I sighed, turning away from my groggy reflection.

You have to do this, you don't deserve happiness.

These words had been replaying in my head on repeat since I had decided to move to small old Doncaster. It was true, I really didn't deserve happiness and I knew that if I let others in, they would try to convince me other wise.

I picked up all of my belongings before stepping out of my apartment to walk to school. 'Doncaster High School' to be exact.

Around ten or so minutes later, the horrid place was in sight. Taking a deep breath, I attempt to mentally prepare my self for what my life was about to become.

I didn't let my self react to the hushed whispers and muffled laughs that surrounded me every where I went. I didn't let myself fight back when some guy on the football team punched me in the stomach just for the fact alone that I look the way I look, instead, I let everything that I deserved, happen to me.

I had planned on being this way to be ignored, to be left alone, but its seemed to do the opposite. Although I guess it's fine if its not the good type of attention, right?

The bell rang for the fifth time during the day - bringing me out of my thoughts. Just as I was about to stand from the table that was inconveniently right next to the trash, numerous shadows were casted on the white, almost gray surface that people expected students to eat off.

My gaze drifted upwards, connecting with the familiar pair of brown ones from earlier.

"recovered yet nerd?" the guy whose name I still don't know spoke. Instead of getting out of my seat and beating the shit out of him like I really, really, wanted to, I forced myself to shy away, acting as if I were scared shitless. With my head down, I take a few calming breathes before attempting to walk away.

A rough kick to the back of my thigh causes me to wince, falling over and dropping everything in the process. Laughter comes from the others surrounding us and I make my body go limp, preparing myself for any other violent actions that were about to be used on me. "do you fucking know how to talk?" he ask. Another kick lands in the curve of my hip and torso, and just before I'm about to take another one, a voice speaks up.

"stan, just leave him alone."

"are you defending this worthless piece of shit Zayn?"

The guy with raven hair shakes his head, bringing his hand against his forehead in a annoyed way. Soon enough, Stan grunts when he doesn't get a response, stomping his way out of the cafeteria. I feel a hand gently touch my shoulder once I stand up, "you alright?" he ask, I allow my eyes to meet his own and I see the concern they hold for me.

I don't let him care about my well being any longer, I mutter a quick thanks before limping off. When I'm out of sight and hearing range, I clear my throat so its back to its usual raspiness instead of the naisally tone I put up with to keep others away.

I decide to go to my last class of the day, using the empty halls as an advantage. I mutter a few numbers as I walk around, still having no idea of where the music block is.

"you need help?" a high, yet somehow still muscular voice ask from behind me. I turn around and am met with the bluest eyes I'd ever seen. I intake a quick breath when his eyes meet mine and I can't help but feel a heavy pit at the bottom of my stomach when I notice the same jock jacket that Stan was wearing, hung loosely around his shoulders.

In fact, its the exact same, unless they both spilt green paint in the exact same spot. Yeah, highly unlikely.

"no thankyou" I say, changing back into my naisally voice. He looks back at me, disbelief clearly written all over his face. He's about to talk before his eyes widen at the sight of something behind me, and then his whole body posture changes.

The carefree and relaxed guy that was stood in front of me was now gone, instead replaced with a stiff, uneasy smirking one. "you fucking nerd" he mutters, louder then necessary, and then he saunters off confidently.

"Babe? what're you doing?" I hear Stans voice. "nothing, come to my locker please?" the other voice says a little rushed. "your class is the other way though"

Then the voices are gone, or more distant at least.

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