dreamer ➵ larry stylinson

sixteen

sixteen. 

I groaned groggily and opened my eyes. Chocolate curls were tickling my jaw, and light breaths were let out on my neck slowly. I looked over to see Harry snuggled close to me. His arm slung over me and his face burying my neck. He was letting out soft snores, yet he look like an angel. Harry was shirtless, and god, he was fit. Though, I had slept in my shirt, his body put mine in shame. 

"Harry." I whispered, moving his hair off my jaw. I smiled at the way his body twitched as I said his name. He must be a light sleeper. 

He hummed at me, slowly lifting his head up. The cold air hit my neck, I had been sweating at his body heat. How attractive.

"Good morning." I spoke softly with a sweet tone. 

A smile traced his lips. He lifted his hand to his hair and ran it back. It was wild, the curls in several places. "Morning. What time is it?" He spoke in a raspy voice. 

His morning voice almost made me melt. I turned over and grabbed my phone from his side table and checked the time. "It's eight in the morning, sleepy head."

"Why are you up so early?" He complained, lying back down. He grabbed my waist and pulled me closer towards him. Harry laid his head against the back of my neck and gave it a soft kiss.

"You lazy bum." I giggled. "I can't sleep anymore."

"Then lay here with me, please?"

Eventually, I gave in and just rested with Harry for a few more hours. He had fallen back asleep right after we laid down together. It was almost like deja vu; here we were laying together, in the same position as in the dreams. The only difference was Harry's bed is ten times better than mine.

Though, after he woke up a few hours later, he now laid on his back looking at his cellphone. I laid my head on his chest and drew circles on his chest, around the inked skin. On his lower abdomen laid a beautiful butterfly, but below that, he had two leaves. His tattoos were meaningful, though some of mine were out of pure silliness, his looked like they had a purpose. 

The two birds were my favorite. I didn't have a reason to my liking, except the way they looked on him. The fact that they were asymmetrical made them look amazing. It showed how things weren't always perfect, but beautiful. 

"Harry?" My small voice spoke.

He hummed in response, setting his phone down.

I looked up to meet his gaze. His green eyes were soft on mine, no other emotion except for adoration. I sat up from him, the white sheets wrapping around me. "Can I tell you something?"

"Anything."

"Okay, this is a lot to tell." I took a breath.

"Go ahead. I'm all ears."

"Three months ago, Lucy diagnosed me with Social Isolation. And basically, that means that I'm lacking human interaction and being social in general. That really hit me, Harry. Because I was living everyday, slugging around. Go home, eat, sleep, work, and repeat; that was my life. I barely talked to Niall at work, barely made any effort to call Liam or Zayn." I took a breath and looked down at my hands.

"I cracked. I had a meltdown at work and I barely remember any of it. Niall had said I knocked down a whole shelf of books, said I had knelt down and started to hyperventilate while crying. I remember the teenagers hanging out in there, staring in shock at me until Niall had yelled at them to leave. Zayn showed up at the store and smack sense into me. Then, they signed me up for therapy and that's where I am now, I guess. From that experience, I've earned quite a heavy load of anxiety." I looked up to see his gaze. His eyes were furrowed, he now sat up from his position.