Modest Oblivion - Book 6 (Larry Stylinson AU)

Chapter 15 - Numb My Skin

‘Happy Little Pill’ – Troye Sivan

Numb My Skin

Harry’s face was flaming red as the boys walked towards them, he leant against the wall almost falling into the indoor fern placed at the side of the elevator. Louis was hissing under his breath, furious that Harry forgot to organise the flowers for the wedding, furious that Dakota had in Louis’ eyes; ‘managed to take over everything in a matter of seconds.’ 

Harry pouted, his mind running at how he could possibly be forgetting organising things for potentially the most important and hopefully, happiest day of his life. Though, as Louis loomed over him growling about Dakota, Harry couldn’t help but internally smirk at the fact instead of fighting over life and death situations, over drugs and heartbreak they were fighting about flowers and seating arrangements. 

“This is really important, Harry,” Louis snapped. 

Harry nodded, running his hands through his messy hair. “I know.” He felt an insatiable desire to touch Louis, pull him into his arms and kiss away his worried about flowers and Dakota. With every caress of his fingers obliterate Louis racing heart and unsettled mind, so he stepped forward ready to take Louis away from his dishevelled mind. “Lou, baby” he whispered, his voice gruff.

“Don’t,” Louis narrowed his eyes, “‘Baby’ me, right now.” He scowled, trying hard to fight the urge, Harry knew Louis was feeling, to fall into his arms. Louis had a defiant look in his eyes, his jaw hardened and his chest puffed out like a prized Rooster. His chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, the wedding only weeks away and he was already a mess. 

Harry couldn’t blame him, it had been a long time coming and their first plan to wed in Vanuatu had been anything but perfect. The mere thought of Vanuatu made his skin crawl with forbidden memories of his forgotten friend and former manager, sometimes he could almost hear Porter’s laugh. Almost.

“Harry!” Louis clicked his thumbs impatiently in Harry’s face, “You need to start getting organised.”

“I know.”

Louis mumbled, “I need you to start getting organised. You want this, right?”

Harry laughed at the insanity of such a question, “Of course I do. More than anything!”

“Then–“ Louis snapped, “Pick the fucking flowers and call the florist in France!”

Harry smirked. 

“What?” Louis huffed.

Harry shook his head, silent but amused at Louis like a Groomzilla as their wedding swiftly approached. It was the only thing, Harry supposed, that Louis had complete control over. The one thing that was maintainable and not crumbling between his fingers like Dakota and the media, the tour and the fans. 

He crossed his arms, “What are you smirking about?” 

After a pause Harry whispered, “You’re sexy when you’re angry.” 

Louis opened his mouth to argue, frowned and hissed, “I’m being serious!”

Harry lifted his hand to graze his slender fingers across Louis’ reddening cheeks, “So am I.”

“You’re infuriating,” Louis softened but there was a glint of anger behind his sapphire eyes. 

Harry had no time to reply, to calm Louis or kiss Louis until he was breathless. The boys piled in through the rotating glass doors, Niall looked pale and exhausted and Zayn was limping.

 Harry frowned, “Later,” he whispered to Louis and turned to the boys.

The five boys, dishevelled and seriously lacking sleep waited at the elevator and ignored the gawks of some people passing through the lobby. They were surrounded by four minder’s who were really body guards and Harry wondered why the security had stepped up so much. What’s happened? He pondered the thought as he stared at the red numbers illuminated on the wall. With a ding the silent boys stepped into the elevator and Louis’ phone went off, Jacob was demanding they hurry up. Which only infuriated them all further.