Let Me Show You How to Love Yourself (Larry Stylinson) ✅

Baking Again

Bzzzzz. Harry heard his phone vibrate with a text. "Liam, you ass, don't text me from across the room?" he said, shooting Liam a silly look. "Not me mate," Liam replied, looking up from his laptop. "Zayn?" Harry called into the next room. "Not me either," he yelled back. 

Harry looked suspiciously at his phone and opened the message, wondering who it could be from. No one ever texted him besides his roommates, mostly because he had cut off contact from most of them. Ever since he got sick, he stopped going out and being social. He had tried to hold onto some friendships, but eventually it just became to much, as his crippling fear of food quickly began to prevent him from leaving the house. 

Harry smiled as he saw who the text was from -- it was Louis. Suddenly, he remembered in some sort of foggy memory from last night in which all the lads had exchanged numbers. Harry nodded to himself as he looked down at his phone to read the message:

Louis: Hey Harry. How are you feeling? Was wondering if you wanted to come over later. I bought some cake mix and was wondering if you wanted to bake a bit. 

Louis: Don't worry. You don't have to eat any

Harry was perplexed at this odd request of Louis' to bake but not eat cake.... He knew he was probably just trying to make him feel better about his fear of desserts, but it still seemed weird. He responded:

Harry: Ok, yeah. But why?

Louis: Wanted to spend time with you

Harry: Oh. Um. Why me?

Harry instantly felt silly after sending that because as insecure and depressed as he was, he didn't want to openly share those types of thoughts with Louis. Now he was going to think he was strange... But Louis continued to type. 

Louis: Cause you're fun to be around. Would be great to get to know you more.

Louis: When do you leave for treatment?

Harry: Three days. It starts on Monday.

Louis: So we'll have to make this count, yeah?

Louis: 7pm good?

Harry instantly started to panic at how forward Louis was being. There was no way he could be interested in him! It just wasn't possible for a guy like that -- so muscular, so confident, so sexy -- to be into someone so gross and damaged. Harry shook his head and tossed his phone aside, planning to not respond, to not go. 

But after a few minutes, he realized that he might be making a mistake. This could be the last time he sees Louis in a really along time, since the program could go up to two months if he didn't get his shit together in time. He grabbed the phone and quickly responded "Yup" before tossing it back down and taking a nap, exhausted by the process of eating that bloody yogurt Zayn and Louis had forced upon him. 

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"Coming," Louis called, setting the last of the ingredients on the counter. He jogged to the door and opened it to a nervous Harry, who was fidgeting with a bracelet on his arm. Today he was wearing a baggy T-shirt, his long, thin arms fully exposed and black joggers, which hung loosely off of his hips. Instead of wearing his beanie, he had pulled his hair back into a tight pony tail, which Louis found adorable. 

"You look great," Louis said, welcoming him in. Harry began to interject, but Louis smiled and simply said, "Harold, take the compliment." Harry reached in the air, pretending to take it, and both boys laughed, though Louis was sincerely surprised at Harry's sudden change in spirit. 

"So I am no baker, Harry, but I tried my best to find different frostings and sprinkles and things. It's just regular old cake mix, nothing fancy, but I figured you could make a creation out of it. I have pans and oil and all that too," Louis said, fastening a white apron onto his curvy torso and handing one to Harry.