Onwards and Upwards ➢ Larry Stylinson

and we don't even know where we're going

A/N: So this book is going to be a thing now, yayyyy! It's basically just going to be a collection of my smaller one shots -- if I ever decide to post a massive one, like "you've got me smiling in my sleep," I'll uplaod it separately. But htis is for all the teeny ones that I write just because I feel like it haha. 
So basically, this one is just a feel-good, sweet, happy little thing. It's a bit too fluffy in comparison to what I usually write, but a bit of fluff every now and then won't harm anyone ;)
ALSO: huuuuge thank you to the fabulous @HunterMay18 for making the BEST cover EVER for this book :))))
I DON'T OWN ANYTHING/ANYONE GOT IT COOL AWESOME
Anywho, hope you like this one! Comment your thoughts :) 

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and we don't even know where we're going

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Description: Louis comes back after a while. He's met with the surprise of someone else, and a Harry who can apparently tell the future.
One shot, Reality.

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"Oh, it's you."

Louis swallows thickly, fidgeting as he looks down at the concrete. His heart is about to pound out of his chest, he's fairly certain that he's going to cry, and he doesn't know who the fuck this person is. 

"Who are you?" Louis sputters out, shocked. The man rolls his eyes.

He's fairly attractive, Louis notes. He has clear blue eyes that are probably very nice to look at, when they aren't cutting into Louis like ice. His hair is dark and tousled, he has a faint layer of stubble growing over his cheeks and chin, and his jaw is so defined that it seems like it could cut rock. He looks like Clark Kent.

It makes him angry. 

"M' Jack," the man says coldly. He's still clenching the door protectively, knuckles white. 

"Okay, Jack," Louis says, blood boiling at Jack's tone. No one fucking talks to him like that. "Is Harry home?"

"I don't know," Jack says acidly. 

"For fuck's sake," Louis bursts out, "We are not playing this fucking game. Just tell me if he's home or not."

"You've got no right to just march on over here and demand to see him," Jack shoots back.

"And you've got no right to speak for him," Louis says angrily. His anger dies down a bit as he continues, voice going quiet. "If he doesn't want to talk to me, then I want to hear it from him. I'll leave him alone if he wants me to."

Jack's releases his grip of the door a bit here, though the ice in his eyes is as cutting as ever. "Fair enough." He takes a step back and calls Harry's name into the house, the house that's so familiar to Louis that just standing here makes his heart hurt. 

"Yeah?" he hears Harry call back, and wow, he hasn't heard that voice in a long time. He swallows back the tears. 

Jack doesn't respond, glaring at Louis. Eventually, Louis hears the padding of footsteps down the hallway, and Harry whining. "Jack," he says, elongating the word, "I was just getting to the best part in my book, what do you -- oh."

Louis is floored. 

It's been ages. Literally. It's been months since Louis has seen Harry, months since they did their last show as One Direction, months since Louis told Harry that he wanted to leave and do his own thing for a while. 

His heart weighs down in his chest like a rock as he thinks about how he never really gave Harry any warning before telling him about the audition he landed in Hollywood. He never really told him about how he'd been talking to management for ages about leaving the band -- he was just sick of it, is the thing. He was over the speculation, the constant hounding, the waiting for him to trip up and do something wrong. He wasn't even allowed to have fun, or make mistakes without someone fucking judging him. And he didn't want that anymore. He figured, if he did his own thing, people would pay less attention to him -- Harry and Niall are the ones they're all mad about, anyways.