The Story of a Female Boy Named Louis (Larry Stylinson AU)

Chapter 18

The first thing Louis noticed about Harry's house after his dad dropped him off was that there was a sleek, chestnut brown cat with yellow slits for eyes guarding the porch.

He's never minded cats, but this one had a face of judgement, as if he could see straight away all of the wrongs he's committed in his life before casting him away to a fiery hell.

Or perhaps he was just nervous.

Louis stood in front of the door longer than he would've liked to admit, partly because of the cat and mostly because of the prospect of meeting Harry's family. Although they weren't a couple, not at all, the thought of them thinking Louis was boring or rude or some sort of freak was causing his nerves to flutter in his stomach.

He was starting to regret the turquoise choker he was wearing and the rose gold eyeshadow he dusted on his eyelids. Louis usually didn't mind when people talked about him, but it'd be different with Harry's family. His heartbeat picked up as he heard muffled conversation approaching the door and before he could back out and run home, the door swung open with a thwack.

"Hey, Louis," Harry leaned against the creaking door with excited eyes. "You actually came! And... you look incredible."

Louis smiled back at him, cheeks warm with the attention. Harry was wearing a dark blue, spotted button down shirt with his sleeves rolled up and tighter jeans than he'd ever seen him wear at school.

He looked incredible.

"Thank you," Louis bit his lip self consciously, and drew out the paper bag that was dangling behind his back. "Oh, this is for your mom."

"You really didn't have to, but thanks. I'll get it to her. Come in," he gestured with his shoulder, pulling the door open slightly as Louis walked in. He could smell the barbecue coming in from the backyard, and he took note of the few moving boxes still stacked up against the wall.

"We're still getting stuff organized, as you can see. My mom's been stressing to me that I let everyone know we're not this messy all the time," Harry chuckled. Louis watched his hands move while he talked about picture frames and wallpaper, big, soft looking hands and long, thin fingers that would definitely extend past his own.

"So, do you?" Harry looked back at him imploringly.

"Do I what?" Louis blinked twice, focusing his attention back on what was coming out of those deep pink lips instead of what they were capable of doing.

He shot him a friendly smile, "I asked if you wanted to get something to eat. We have plenty to go around."

"Oh," Louis looked away in embarrassment. "Sure."

Harry led him out to the quaint backyard, strewn with white and green lights and dotted with hydrangeas. There were maybe twenty people standing around and swaying to the radio, plastic cups filled to the brim with sparkling lemonade in hand.

"Hey, mom, Louis's here," Harry brushed his hand gently on her elbow. "Where did you put the extra plates?"

"Should be right next to the potato salad- oh, Louis," Harry's mom's smile broadened as she shook his hand. Her thick, dark waves were clipped back and she seemed so warm. "It's so nice to finally meet you. Harry's told me a lot about you."

"Mom," Harry's shook his head stiffly and Louis looked at him confusedly. Did he really talk about him that much to his mom?

"It's nice to meet you too, Mrs. Styles," he nodded. "You have a beautiful home."

"Oh, thank you, dear," she huffed. "It's been quite a process getting everything cleaned up but we're getting there. If you'll excuse me, I need to go get more ice for the drinks."