Until we meet again. Larry stylinson AU.

The start. (Prologue.)

Harry styles wasn't your typical, happy go lucky teenager living in England. Actually, scratch that, who's happy anymore?

It's not that he didn't care about living, because he did, he just.. wasn't fond of the idea.
He was always happy growing up, he loved photography and singing, he loved cats and documentaries.

He loved robin, until he passed away.
He passed away last year, Harry had just turned 16.

Then Harry's world came crashing down, nothing made him happy anymore, he changed.
Started skipping classes, he stopped going out with his friends, and overall stopped being happy.

His mother hadn't noticed, his friends didn't notice. but harry didn't care.
Harry didn't care about anything, Robin and him were very close, he even accepted harry when he came out as gay to him at 13.

His mother also accepted him but she wasn't happy about it, per say.

Harry hated the fact that robin was dead and he couldn't do anything about it, instead, he would go visit his grave site and talk for awhile.

"Hey, it's me, harry.. I just- I'm not sure if you can even hear me," he sighed, "and I'm not even really sure if this is reality, I miss you. Everyday I miss you," he took a deep breath, "I just can't believe you're gone, you know? Fucking sucks, I just want you back."

Harry felt a drop on his face, there were dark clouds in the sky so harry decided to just get up and go home.

"Okay robin, I better get going, with the rainstorm coming and shit, I'll be back though okay? Love you." He kissed his fingers and pressed them against the tomb stone.

"Shit shit shit," he said and ran over to his bicycle as it started to pour, although nothing was new, it always rained in Cheshire, always, "fuck," he started peddling faster and faster since his house was only a few minutes away from the grave yard.

As he made it to his yard, he slipped off of his bike and slammed the ground, "fucking shit!," he slowly got back up and ran up the stairs to his deck, thankfully it had a roof.

He inhaled deeply and opened his front door, "Mum? You home?" After a second or two he heard no reply, "okay then, guess I'm eating dinner alone, again." He mumbled to himself.

He was angry, why? Because ever since his step father died, she was never home. Always going out with her friends and who knows, she might have even found a replacement.

Last week harry was at the coffee shoppe and he had seen his mother with a strange man, a man that was getting a little too friendly with her.

How dare she move on so quick? Wasn't robin the love of her life? Or was that all just one big fucking lie.

Harry's blood began to boil just thinking about that day.
He hadn't said anything to Anne about what he had seen, he was waiting for her to say something.
But she hadn't, she was never home so how could she have said anything?

Harry was used to being by himself, with his sister Gemma moved out with her fiancé to live with him and ever since, harry has been alone.

The thing about harry is that he hated being alone, but also loved it.
It was hard to explain to people, they never understood harry.
Nobody ever did.

Harry walked into his kitchen and made himself some soup, and crisps.

There he was again, for the 5th night in a row, eating alone.

He glanced up at the clock and saw it was five in the evening, sighing, he knew his mother wouldn't be home until probably midnight.

He took a sip of his soup and started scrolling on Instagram, he frowned as he saw his friend Liam posted a picture of him with a few friends.