Fooled (Larry Stylinson) ✅

6. Numbers

  Louis' POV  

"I... umm... honestly, nevermind. Read that wrong," I nearly stuttered, slowly inching away from Harry as I laughed nervously. My stomach began to fill with nausea, and I took another drag, trying to calm my nerves, which were now at all time High.

Just seconds ago, I had implied that Harry and I were going to have sex, and based on his reaction, he clearly wasn't on board with that. No big deal, I thought to myself. It's just single handedly one of the most embarrassing things I have ever done in my life. Ever.

Noticing the distance I had just created, Harry slid closer to me along the railing, shooting me a guilty look with his big green eyes. His curls were falling into his eyes and he gripped the bandanna on his wrist.

"Perhaps you didn't," he said slowly, raising an eyebrow. "I'd like to get to know you more, Louis." His lips were practically on my ear as he spoke, sending little vibrations down my back. I flinched a bit, hoping he wouldn't notice, and nodded.

"I'd like that too," I said timid. My heart was pounding out of my chest and I was definitely sweating worse than my uncle's pet pig Bertha on a hot summer day. What the fuck was happening right now? I thought he wasn't interested.... why did he just get so close to me?

As I panicked, Harry grabbed my arm gently, stroking it slightly. I held my breath, nearly paralyzed by nerves, and tried not to freak out, though, as always, I failed.

"Relax," Harry said, tracing tiny circles along my fore arm. His hands were smooth and soft against my skin, and I smiled in response, nodding my head slightly. "You've seemed so tense this whole evening. Do I scare you?"

"No, no..." I said quickly. "I just get nervous... with attractive guys...."

FUCK. I began to internally curse myself as I realized just how stupid that had sounded. He probably isn't even into me... why would I say that?

"So you find me attractive?" Harry said, suddenly stopping the tracing motion on my arm. I bit my lip and stared at him, unsure what to say.

"Yeah," I replied. It was barley a whisper. There was really no getting around this now. I decided to just give up, surrender. He already thought I was a weird loser. So what did it matter anyways?

Harry smiled, his eyebrows furrowing and his lips forming a smug grin. "Louis, may I ask you... what's your number?" he asked, snaking his hand into his pocket to pull out his phone.

His phone case was bright blue, with tiny black and white star designs covering it. It was glitterry--shining a bit in the moonlight. The case was like nothing I had ever seen before-- sort of like him.

"Oh," I said, sort of taken aback. That was not how I imagined he was going to react. Honestly, I thought he was going to laugh in my face and ask me to leave, but I would take him asking for my number as a rather positive alternative. "It's 917-863-9561."

"Thank you," Harry said, typing it quickly into his phone, his long fingers dancing on the glass screen. "So sorry, but I have to get going. The band's about to head out. I'll text you... Louis.... Louis?"

I blinked and looked up at him, confused, still fiddling with my pack of Camels. "Lou, your last name," Harry said, chuckling a bit as he looked at my blank face and wrinkled brow.

"Oh. Tomlinson," I replied. My face was probably more red than Emma Stone's lipstick at this point. Fuck. "T-o-m-l-i-n..." I began to spell it, as people often had trouble spelling it correctly, especially Americans, but sometimes even fellow Brits. "S-o-n," Harry interrupted, finishing it for me as he typed it into his contacts.

I nodded, smiling at this incredulous, sweet creature who was somehow (I have no idea how....) taking an interest in me. "Yeah, that's it," I said, following Harry to the door of the balcony. As we opened it, I could hear the bartender announcing last call. It was time for me to get going too.

"Well, I'll text you, Mr. Tomlinson," he said with a smile. "I'd love to see you again sometime. Maybe not somewhere so crowded. And when I'm not wearing a sweat covered tank top and a bandanna."

I nodded excitedly for a multitude of reasons: 1) he just called me Mr. Tomlinson, which for some reason I found super hot, 2) he wanted to see me again!! Me???, and 3) he wanted to go somewhere not-so-crowded...intimate, maybe even. Fuck. There was no way I was going to get a wink of sleep tonight.

"I'd like to see you too," I replied, awkwardly looking him up and down as he stood before me, texting someone rapidly.

"Wonderful, Louis," Harry replied, tossing his phone back into his pocket. To my sheer surprise -- and utter panic, if I'm being honest -- he opened his long, muscular arms and leaned forward to hug me, a gesture which made me simultaneously pray that I had my inhaler and wish that I had caught this glorious moment on film so I could relive the feeling again and again.

As he hugged me, squeezing my torso roughly against his hard biceps, I breathed in his curls, which were now falling into my face. He smelled like liquor and sweat and cigarettes and I honestly would have traded it all to just rip off my clothes and have sex with him right on the bar-stool. But obviously, this wasn't a fantasy; it was real life, and I'm not nearly that bold. So I patted his back, taking in the moment before he pulled away and headed out the door.

"Goodbye, Louis," he called over his shoulder. I watched his bandmates appear from around the corner of the bar and follow him out of the exit, shaking their beers triumphantly in their hands.

When he was finally gone, I immediately picked up my phone and called Niall.

"You will never believe what fucking just happened," I screamed. He really wouldn't.

A/N: lol whoops part of my rough draft got attached to the bottom of this. Sorry if you saw that!