You Put the Sun in Sunday; larry stylinson (bottom!louis) [completed]

12

It was April. It was raining. Boston emitting strange gloomy energy on this Monday morning. People walked around in raincoats and windbreakers, umbrellas on each of their shoulders to shield from the rain. Harry left his parent's house on Saturday, after staying a whole week away from campus and from Louis. He spent Sunday in the library at their usual table by the window. Louis never showed, he had no reason to since the headline was completed and Harry broke his heart.

Harry walked alone to his classes, head ducked low but his gaze forever searching for a short boy draped in ratty clothing. He never found him. The next day, the same thing, it was raining and Harry had no umbrella and simply walked with his head down.

Wednesday rolled around, he had been making up excuses for missing practice but Coach had decided to send him a threatening email about losing his chance at a football career and all the skills he needs to practice on. Harry agreed to attend the practice, he needed something to get his mind off the April headline that was going to drop on Friday. He walked onto the muddy field in shorts and a sweater, everyone else opting for sweatpants and a jacket. The sky hadn't been blue for a while now, ever since Harry last saw Louis. He screwed up big time and Louis stole away the blue skies and sunshine when he walked out Harry's life with his baby.

Tears well up in Harry's eyes as he rubs a hand over his face. As he walks closer to his team, he hears the chattering became louder until it eventually stops. Harry is met with blank stares. "How are the folks?" One of the players ask.

"Good," Harry nods stiffly, trying to rid his brain of the images of him and Louis cradling a tiny baby swaddled in a blanket. Maybe the baby would have Louis' button nose or Louis' lips, possibly if they're lucky, Louis' eyes. Their baby would be a heartbreaker if it looks anything like its mother. Harry's heart sinks, taking a quick peek at the bleachers where Louis would usually sit during his practice, it was empty. Nothing but the patter of soft rain splashing on the metal. "I stayed a week longer than planned."

"We know." This time it was Liam, his stance straight and muscles bulging in his long sleeve shirt. Harry knows he's trying to intimidate him since his eyes have an angry flare behind them, Harry would be lying if he said he wasn't the least bit scared.

"Why did you stay longer?"

Harry looks around again for their coach this time, trying to hide away from Liam's scowl. "I caught a bug." He coughs into his sleeve. When he faces his team again, he doesn't expect to be met with a fist hurdling for his face. The breath is knocked out of him and he feels the numbing sensation spread over the entire left side of his face. Harry staggards backwards, holding his cheek and blinking rapidly through his blurry vision. He wobbles slightly, seeing a few of his peers shove Liam away, the latter's fist still clenched tightly at his side.

Harry finally stands upright again, stretching his face with various expressions. "Can't even tell the truth? Don't you even make this about yourself." Liam's voice booms as other players try to hold him back. Sure, they were all fit but Liam had a figure similar to a bodybuilder, Harry is surprised the punch didn't knock him out. "You know exactly what you did, Styles. Fucking coward."

Harry actually winces at that. He pushes away the helping hands of his friends and turns to walk off the field. The rain doesn't cover Liam's shouts. "You are a coward, Harry! You don't deserve what you have."

The headline comes out as expected. Everywhere Harry looks he sees the newspaper in someone's hands. The cover has his name on it, his face plastered over it as he smiles in his uniform on the field. He doesn't read it, not when it's shoved in his face, not when it's placed over his desk, and not when he finds one on the kitchen table in his frat house. Everyone compliments him for things he doesn't know of because he stays far away from the article. It was written by a lovely boy who was in love with him, and Harry envisioned himself curled up in Louis' dorm with the newspaper in his hands with the author sitting snug in his lap as they read it together. They would wait until Sunday to read it, Harry frowns deeply at the fact they even had to wait, no, the fact that Louis had to wait.