dreamer ➵ larry stylinson

twelve

twelve.

"You're such a twat, I can't believe you!" A voice shouted. My eyes groggily opened, to reveal a blurry Liam. I blinked a couple of times, letting my eyes adjust. "You seriously tell Niall before me? Niall? Did you even get my texts? And why the hell didn't you invite Harry to the pub instead of ditching?"

"Liam," My voice cracked. Liam looked down at me with a glare. "Shut the fuck up and let me wake up before you start." 

He huffed and went over to the arm chair and plopped into it. "Hurry up and wake up."

I rolled my eyes and slowly sat up on the sofa. The blanket was draped around me, but I was now sitting up and the room was spinning. Sighing, I ran a hand through my greasy hair and looked around the flat. The television was now off and there were no signs that Harry was over last night.

"Now, why did you tell Niall before me?" Liam whined.

"Drunk bastard." I whispered, insulting Niall. My fingers found the bridge of my nose and pinched it. "I needed to tell someone, and I was planning on telling you today. But I guess the idiot told you last night."

"Why weren't you answering my calls or texts?"

"I wanted to hang out with Harry in peace and your texts and calls were getting on our nerves, so I turned off my phone. It is a bit rude to talk on the phone when you have guests over, Liam."

He frowned. "Why'd you ditch us for Harry? You could have come to the pub with him!"

"I need alone time with him, Liam. I want to understand him, not bring him to something he's uncomfortable with!"

"What do you mean, uncomfortable? He likes us!"

I groaned and tilted my head back. "I swear to god if you push this anymore than you are now, I will personally take you to hell with me."

Liam sighed and pulled out his phone and started to text. He was probably texting Niall, complaining about the situation. Looking at the counter, Harry's Russian hat sat on there. It was the only proof that Harry was here last night. Smiling, I got up from the love seat and walked over to it, hugging it into my arms. It smelt like Harry, the musky scent he left. It was intoxicating, a total turn on. It was like I had a smell fetish.

"Louis," Liam said. I turned around to Liam. He hadn't looked up from his phone. "Tell me about Harry. What did you do last night?"

A smile started to form on my face. "Well, he's a roller coaster. He can be really genuine. You have to give him time before he's fully comfortable with you. He's not exactly comfortable with me yet, but I can tell he's trying." Liam nodded at me, and looked at me to keep going. "Yesterday, I, uh, kissed him."

"You kissed him?" He furrowed his eyebrows. 

I nodded, licking my lips. Thinking about his warm lips against my own drove me crazy. My lips tingled from the imaginary interaction. "He kissed me back. And god, Liam, I couldn't get enough of it. I can still feel his lips on mine. So he told me he would come back to my flat in a while, so I went home and started to tidy up. And I called Niall to say I wouldn't be coming to the pub, then it just slipped - I told Niall."

"Oh my god, did you guys fuck?"

"No, no, we were close, but he said it was too soon."

"Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

I let out a sigh. "When I saw him at that park, I vomited into the toilets. And I wanted to go home. That same night, the dreams suddenly stopped."