Picture Perfect | Larry Stylinson

Eight

Dedication: @vuittonlarry because I love your username bc it makes me think of the Harry x Louis Vuitton edits and of course Larry :)

"Louis Tomlinson, who the hell is the source that supposedly leaked something to the media?!"

Louis' eyes shot open as the familiar and sexy voice radiated throughout the apartment along with the slamming of the front door. He had been dozed off and didn't even realize that Harry had left, but obviously, he had. Louis got out of bed just as the door opened with an infuriated Harry storming through it. While it was apparent that he was trying to look pissed off and mad, he really just looked like an upset baby kitten.

"I knew you'd be begging for more, Princess," Louis smirked, trying to show Harry that he wasn't afraid of him.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, you hunk of pig shit. Who the hell said this bullshit to the paps?! Was it you?! It was you, wasn't it!" Harry accused.

"What are you talking about? I didn't say anything to those fuckers," Louis grimaced, putting his acting skills to good use.

"You are so full of shit. You expect me to believe that you didn't say anything before you magically show up in my apartment, which I still don't understand how you even got in here by the way," Harry fumed.

"I'm telling you that I didn't say anything. Why would I want to be in the tabloids known as the one that you hurt? I don't like it just as much as you," Louis scoffed, impressing himself with how convincing he was. "The paparazzi has never been on my side, let alone listened to what I had to say. What makes you think that they would start now?"

"I don't know, because you're painted as the victim? A twist in the story that is Louis Tomlinson, child star gone rogue?! I want you to get out of my fucking apartment!" Harry commanded.

Louis put his arms up in surrender. "Woah, woah. No need to be hasty. I promise you that it wasn't me."

"You really expect me to trust you?" Harry asked, quirking his eyebrow. "You have five minutes to get your rubbish and leave."

"Harry, you can't just kick me out. I have nowhere to go and there's a hoard of paps out there. That's like throwing me into the wolfpit. Also, it's not going to do you any good if you do that," Louis said cautiously, as if Harry was holding him at gunpoint like a crazy girlfriend. "Please, Harry."

"I know what you're doing, Louis. You're just telling me that because you're of the thinking that I'm going to do whatever it takes to keep my reputation pure. It's not going to happen, so go out the back fucking door and never ever come back here," Harry hissed angrily. "There's a back door. I suggest you find it."

"Ha-"

"If you don't leave now, I won't hesitate to call the police. Wouldn't want that now, would we?" Harry said with a maniacal smirk on his face.

Louis didn't try to fight it anymore because he knew that he wasn't going to get anywhere with it. Instead he went over to the other side of the couch and grabbed his overnight bag. He walked to the door and turned to face Harry, sad that the boy that he actually did feel a little something for was kicking him out.

"See you around," he muttered.

"Hopefully never again," Harry spat.

Louis walked out into the hallway, the door to Harry's apartment slamming shut, leaving Louis out alone in the hallway. He didn't know how he was going to go about avoiding the paparazzi. He didn't want them to see him and he didn't want to give them a quote because Harry was expecting him to do that. Standing there, Louis tried to think of a plan and after a few minutes, the light bulb suddenly went off. If Harry was going to play dirty, Louis could play dirtier.