Realities ➳ Larry Stylinson [COMPLETED]

twenty-six

"So, prom?" Louis asks when we arrive at my house. He has a little smile on his face.

My cheeks flush a little and I don't know why. "I guess."

"Have you ever been to a school dance before?"

"Liam made me go to homecoming freshman year, but it was really boring, so I didn't go to any others."

"Dances can be boring if you don't have a date," Louis says, nodding a little as he settles his hands on my waist. "Or if you don't have friends who make it fun for you. But I think prom will be great."

"Even though I have no idea how to dance," I tell him, wrapping my arms over his shoulders.

"If it's to a fast song, you don't need to know how. You just have fun and don't focus on what other people think of you in that moment."

"What about slow dancing?"

"I can teach you."

I kiss his cheek. "Can't we just stand like this and sway like normal people?"

Louis snorts softly. "We'll see. But I'd still like to teach you a very, very basic way anyway."

"How did you even learn?" I complain, letting him position my arms how he wants.

"My ex taught me. You know how most songs have a basic four-count? That's basically all this is. We turn together in a little square. One-two-three-four, one-two-three-four. Make sense?"

I roll my eyes. "You act like I'm incompetent."

"Fine." He raises his eyebrows in a challenge, and that's when I realize how close his face is to mine. I wonder if he would be easily distracted right now if I kissed him. Would he give this up if I kissed him right now? "How about you lead it, then? Come on."

I huff, and he starts rhythmically counting to four again. My feet go everywhere except where I want them to be, and I'm focusing my entire mind and body on not stepping on his feet. I'm really good at fucking things up.

Louis stops counting, and I stop moving. I squeeze my eyes shut, embarrassed, as I tilt my head back up to him. I really wish I could be good at things like this for him.

But his blue eyes look fond and loving. "'S what I thought. Now let me teach you how to dance, you asshole, because you'll thank me one day."

I laugh, tucking my face into his neck. "You're so ridiculous. Can we hurry up?"

"As soon as you can do the simplest slow dance there is. The three-count is the same thing, and that's the foundation of a waltz."

"You going to teach me how to tango?" I murmur in his ear, trying and failing to sound sultry and seductive.

"I'm not sure you're sexy enough to pull off a tango," Louis teases. "I'm kidding, love. I have no earthly idea how to tango, or where to start. When my ex taught me how to do this simple dancing, I was as unsure about it as you are. But I got used to it, and now I'm not shaky with it."

"I'll be able to do it at prom," I promise softly.

"It's okay if you can't or if you don't want to. Worst case scenario is that we'll do the half-assed swaying shit. The slow dancing isn't that important to me."

I nod a little, but inside my head, I make the promise to myself. I like being this close to him, and I like the idea of knowing how to do something so well that I don't even have to worry about screwing up.

"You still want to practice it?" He asks me lips gently brushing mine but not kissing.

"Yeah," I reply before closing the tiny gap and kissing him softly. He's so familiar, and I love it. What I love even more is that there's even more left of him for me to learn. One day I'll know it all. One day I'll be able to tell exactly what he's thinking from just one little look.

"Alright," Louis whispers when he pulls away with a smile. "When you're maybe not so clumsy anymore, we'll put on some actual music."

I roll my eyes at him. "I can't believe I have to wait to dance to actual music."

"You'll live."

After a few minutes of practice dancing and two slow songs from our playlist, we sit down on the couch.

"You'll be the best dancer at prom," Louis tells me, twisting a finger around a strand of my hair.

"I'll be the one who stumbles and knocks everyone down like dominoes, but thanks anyway, babe."

He laughs. "Nah, I'd catch you before you fell on anyone."

"I don't know," I tease. "I'm a lot bigger than you."

"I'm going to have to fight you if you keep saying shit like that."

"Just telling the truth."

"The truth will give you no kisses for a whole week."

I smile at him. He looks so good today. "We both know that you would suffer from that a lot more than me."

"That's true." To prove his point, he places a gentle peck on my lips. "I love you a lot, Mr. Harold Styles."

"I love you a lot, too, Louis Tomlinson."

"We've come pretty far, haven't we?" Louis asks, smiling.

"We have. I like it."

"I like it, too."