Lies | Larry Stylinson two-shots

Part Two

At first he didn’t want to. He thought it was a rubbish idea, nobody would believe it. “We’ll make them believe it, then.” they said. But he didn’t know how. He looked as straight as his boyfriend’s hair and most of their fans noticed it. How was he supposed to pretend he was dating this stranger when he was in love with his best friend ? But it was management, so there wasn’t much room for negotiation. Next thing he knew, he was dating that Eleanor girl.

Eleanor was fine. She wasn’t ugly, or mean or stupid. She just wasn’t him. And it was killing him. The first few dates, Louis didn’t show any efforts at even getting to know her. Because, her brown hair weren’t his curls. Because her eyes weren’t as green as his were. Because her touch wasn’t as soft and it didn’t send sparks like his did. He wouldn’t even grab her hand when they walked on that very crowed street. He just wanted to get it over with all that mascaraed. Because when he was with her, it just didn’t feel right.

He’d come back on those first nights, Harry waiting for him on their couch. Louis’ eyes would soften when they would look across the room and settle on his emerald ones. He would cross the room in two steps and gather his sleepy boyfriend in his arms, pressing kisses to his messy curls, telling him how much he missed him, how much he wished he could take him on dates as public as when he took that bitch on dates. Harry would tell him off, saying she was a fine girl and that he shouldn’t talk about her like that, a sweet smile on both their faces and they would fall asleep cuddle together on the couch or in their much too large bed. They were still happy.

At first, Louis loathed those fake dates. He’d try to take Eleanor out as little as he could. Sometimes, it could take weeks before the young couple would be spot drinking Starbuck coffee, walking down the London streets. Well, it was more Eleanor sipping at her coffee, talking about whatever Louis was listening, while he would carry around her bags. Media would coo at how gentleman Louis was being towards his woman and Louis would let a bitter laugh as he threw the newspaper filled with bullshit as far he could across the room and cuddle deeper into his boyfriend’s side, trying to forget about all the lies he had to lead people on. And when they laid naked on top of each other, Louis forgot for a while.

~

 Turned out, Eleanor wasn’t so bad. Management insisted for her to be seen with the pop star more often so she would join him on tour, sleeping in his bunk or in the same hotel room for weeks and Louis grew to appreciate her. He would begin to take her out on dates without management telling him to, there was more physical contacts, holding hands, or Eleanor’s hand around his bicep, or his arm around her waist. He enjoyed her company, it was filled with cheesy jokes and easy laughter. Soon enough, Louis started calling her El, and cute pet name like ‘babe’ or ‘hun’, always followed with a slight blush on the girl’s face much to Louis’ amusement. The kiss on the cheeks were more frequent just like the hugs. They were just having a good time and management was more than pleased with the change of events. Unlike Harry.

Because Louis didn’t realise. Because every time the older boy would go out a little longer than usual, he wouldn’t even think about Harry. He wouldn’t think about going home to his boyfriend. He wouldn’t think about Harry as his boyfriend. Because he was having fun with El. Because that’s what management wanted. And because, it didn’t bother him anymore to be with her.

He obviously didn’t realise how much he hurt Harry. He didn’t notice his presence on their living room couch anymore, he just head right to their bedroom. He didn’t notice the tears track on Harry’s cheek when he slipped on their still much too big bed. Louis wouldn’t grab Harry and get him closer anymore. He’d just text Eleanor goodnight before he’d let his mind wander into sleepiness as well, no goodnight kiss or even spoken words to the boy lying next to him. His boyfriend. His boyfriend who cried himself to sleep and always went unnoticed by his lover.

So no, Louis didn’t see this coming. Because he never realised. Because Harry pretended. He pretended that everything was fine, that everything was just peachy, when really, it wasn’t. He never complained when Louis came home, drunk out of his mind and tugged at his belt. He never complained when Louis placed sloppy kiss all over is body. He never complained when Louis didn’t remember a thing the following mornings. Louis couldn’t see it coming.

But it did. Harry snapped. Harry’s had enough. And that’s when Louis realised, too late. Much too late.

~

When Harry asked him why he didn’t love him anymore, something broke inside Louis. Because he didn’t realise how unhappy Harry was. He tried to blame it on management, tried to blame it on anyone else, too proud to admit that he made a mistake. So when Harry left, in the middle of that night, he couldn’t do anything. He tried to cried, he tried to hate himself, hate himself like Harry hated him. But nothing came so instead, he did the only thing he probably shouldn’t have done.

“Louis ?”

“Sorry El, I know it’s late but it’s Harry, he left, it’s over.” At that exact moment, Louis broke into tears, facts finally sinking in that he was alone in their big cold bed, without his other half.

“Shh, shh, don’t worry Lou, I’m sure he’ll come back in the morning, just sleep on it, yeah ? He’ll probably do the same and everything will be alright by tomorrow.” Louis closed his eyes, tears still rolling down his cheeks as he tried to concentrate on the girl’s soothing voice.  

“Yeah, okay, I’ll do that. Thanks bab- El. Thanks El. Goodnight.”  

“Sweet dreams Lou.” and then she hung up.  

Louis sat in his bed and didn’t move, figuring out if he should or not try to call Harry. He knew the boy didn’t take his phone with him, the black iPhone laying on his bedside table. Louis reached for it, watching his background picture when the screen lit up.

Tears made their way up in Louis’ eyes as he recognize the picture. The picture they took when they went to France, on top of the Eiffel Tower. Louis wanted to impress Harry with his french but ended up making a fool of himself and Harry sweetly kissed him, telling him how he didn’t care if he didn’t get it right. Because he loved him. And Louis loved him too.

He took his phone in one hand, the other trying to dry the fresh tears on his face and composed the number where he was sure his boyfriend would be.

“Hello ?” Irish accent filled Louis’ ears. Louis wasn’t surprise though that there wasn’t much hint of sleep in his voice.

“Niall, can I talk to Harry please ?” Louis almost begged but he didn’t care because that was Harry.

“Lou, just go back to sleep.” Niall’s usually bubbly voice seemed dull and drained out of life, like he cried as well.

“Please Niall, I need to talk to him!” Louis pleaded, voice desperate.

“Why? To fuck up some more ? Louis, you were a shitty boyfriend, and now, you need to give Harry some time and space.” Niall seemed mad in the phone, and Louis wondered if something was going on between the Irish and the curly lad. Sure, they were close, best mates, but Niall seemed so hurt. Louis shook it off though because Niall was just a really good guy who cared lots for his friends.

“Alright, just, just tell him I said goodnight, yeah ?”

“Goodnight, Louis.”  

Louis dropped his phone next to him on the bed and grabbed Harry’s pillow, just to have the scent of the other boy. Maybe, he’d be able to pretend everything’s fine and by the morning Harry would be back.

Even though he knew it was all lies.