Photographs. //Larry Stylinson// {Co-written with @ilovehazza19}

Chapter Two.

Who would’ve known that life could change just like the seasons? Who would’ve guessed that life could just be a simple photographic memory? “All of our actions have consequences. What we do will eventually come back to us, which is why it’s always best to act with kindness.” – Yehuda Berg

 

Louis’ Point of View

You’d think I’d be ecstatic to know that my absolute best friend is one of my students, but I’m not. I’m happy that I’m starting to bring up certain memories from my past; however I can never relive my past.

A certain picture stands out to me, one that shouldn’t make my stomach get butterflies and my face become all flushed. A picture that shouldn’t have me continuously thinking about the persons lips on mine, a picture that should have never been revealed to me.   

Things are suppose to happen for a reason, right? Was I suppose to cross paths with my childhood best friend? Is this God’s -if there even is a God- way of telling me that this is the person who could make me happy in life, and change all my views? All these questions fill my head, but none of them can be answered; or so you’d think.

The answer to all these questions is one certain person; Harry Styles.

Every person goes through a time of doubt and self hatred, it’s just normal. However, no one goes through a time where they feel like chopping their head off so they don’t ever have to face the one they fear the most; but I don’t fear Harry, I just fear of the consequences my childhood may play if anything gets out about a long lost friendship.

Laying in bed, trying to drown out the outside world wouldn’t help at all. My mind was racing with thoughts and my body was racing with unknown feelings. I just couldn’t stop myself from thinking about the kiss and how it must have felt. What were the two of us? Was it just a friendly kiss, or was it something more? I mean, I think I would’ve remembered something like this, I usually remember things. My mind was a race car zooming around a race track; it just wouldn’t stop.

It had already been a week. A week of traumatizing pictures, well only one picture was traumatizing, but that wouldn’t stop me from saying most of them if not all of them were traumatizing. I wanted to talk to my mum about these things, but it was just something that I never felt like talking to her about. Half of me wanted to hear the truth, but then the other half of me didn’t. I was torn between hearing or not. But tonight was our Friday ritual, I’d go over to eat dinner with them all, and this would be the night that I would question her. I needed to stop beating myself up over this. The longer that I make myself wait is the longer I don’t know the truth.

With a nice white button up dress shirt and some nicer black tight skinny jeans, I’m knocking on my family’s door. Taking a deep and reassuring breath, the door is opened showing my mother with a huge smile on her face.

“Well isn’t it nice to see my baby boy,” She grinned and pulled me into a tight hug. Are you trying to kill me mother? She had always had that deathly grip on me, I mean, I was technically her favourite considering the fact that I was not only the girls’ brother, but I was also a fatherly figure to them. Lottie, Fizzy, Phoebe, and Daisy were the apple to my eye. They all held their own personalities, but they all shared the same love for our mother and me.