I WILL DO ANYTHING FOR YOU - LARRY STYLINSON FANFICTION

TURN AROUND AND WALK BACK

Harry's POV

Harry stands at his gate and watches Louis disappear in the dark. He doesn't mind getting wet from the rain, his heart is crying anyways. Louis' words hurt him so much, more than he could have imagined. He was looking forward to seeing Louis the whole week and he had the best time with him but now . . . everything could be over. He doesn't feel like crying, he feels like screaming and yelling and breaking things. Thank god he lives on his own. Harry closes the door, leans against it and lets out a loud, manly scream so that his throat aches. Meanwhile he slams his fist against it. "Fuck!" he yells and lets out another scream. He loved his friendship with Louis and he loved being close to him. The kiss was so affectionate, Harry can't remember to have been kissed that tenderly for months and he enjoyed it so much. He remembers the small touches between them, how good it felt to listen to Louis' breathing, how much fun they had. When Louis told Harry that he wasn't gay, it hurt him so much but when he kissed him, he thought that he might have changed his mind. People don't need to be gay to fall in love with the other sex? Harry thought Louis could maybe like him as much as he did but obviously, that's not true.

Just as he wants to walk away, he notices a small jute bag that's leaning against the wall. Is that Louis'? Harry takes a look. But what is this? Isn't his name written on that envelope? Harry pulls it out of the bag and sits down on the sofa. What could this be? Harry gets nervous as he's about to open the envelope. There are three beautiful cards stuck together and Harry loves them right away. They're so aesthetically pleasing that Harry clutches them to his chest. This is so beautiful but the picture of the English breakfast makes his heart ache again. But there's something written on the back . . . Harry turns the postcards around.

"Hi Harry. When I met you for the first time I thought you were just an untalented, conceited guy who treated people like shit because of your fame and because you were in a boyband. I judged you without knowing who you really are. To be honest, I didn't like you at all. When you lied to me, I was pissed. When you told me that your bodyguard had stalked me, I got so fucking angry, so fucking angry at you.

Now I'm thankful this happened because it brought us together in the end. I remember what I said to you the day I was in your hotel room and I want to tell you again that I'm sorry. I wish I could tell you "I didn't mean it" but I did. I meant every word. God Harry, I was so pissed.

But things have changed. I've enjoyed every minute with you. I would have never thought that I liked cooking. I would have never thought that just being in a room with someone could make me so happy. I'm happy with you, I feel good around you and I like you very much. Maybe more than I should. Thank you for everything, thank you for being a friend. – Louis. PS.: I hope you like the postcards."

Louis' POV

Louis walks faster down the street because the rain is getting stronger again. He's so confused, so unhappy and unsure that he can't stop crying. His heart doesn't want to run away but his mind does. He can't let this be his reality, he isn't gay. He isn't gay. He just isn't. Suddenly, his phone rings. Harry. No, Louis can't talk to him, he wants to but he can't. If he heard his voice, he would probably collapse right here in the street. Harry tries it again but Louis ignores him.

When he has almost reached home, he gets a message. Harry again. Louis' hands tremble when he opens it. Reading should hurt less and he battles with himself if he should look at it or not. Louis sits down at a bus stop. His heart is beating so fast, his hands are shaking and he feels so helpless. The boy bites his lip, turns the phone in his hands, rubs his face and exhales loudly. He feels incredibly nervous and he's also a little bit afraid of what Harry has sent him. After a few more minutes, Louis opens the chat eventually.