My fav Larry Stylinson stories

Give Me Love

The wedding was lovely. Perfect, really.

At least that's what all the guests told Louis afterward at the reception, endless faces blurring together as they congratulated him. "Wonderful ceremony," "best of luck to you two," "you make a beautiful couple." Over. And over. And over.

Louis was in a bit of a daze as he thanked them, finding it difficult to remember the details of the wedding he had just taken part in.

There were Zayn, Niall, and Liam in their tuxedos, nudging each other and pointing out attractive female guests.

There was Stan, the best man, handing him the slim silver band right after the "I do's".

There were the flowers, pale pink roses and soft yellow daffodils placed in bunches artfully around the chapel.

There were his sisters, giggling and making faces at him, fidgeting in their uncomfortable dresses.

There was his mother, waving at him encouragingly with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes.

Then there was Eleanor, looking ethereal in a diaphanous ivory dress, smiling at him shyly as he lifted her veil.

But Louis couldn't recall the vows, couldn't picture the church, couldn't remember the sensation of kissing his new bride. He supposed it was just nerves that left him so disoriented; the wedding planner had told them it was completely natural to be anxious.

He was pulled back to the present by the feeling of slim fingers grasping his arm, squeezing gently. Eleanor pulled him away from yet another guest he had been mindlessly thanking, flashing a dazzling smile to the third cousin or college roommate or whoever it was, apologizing for interrupting but Louis was needed elsewhere.

She drew him across the room, threading through the forest of tables and tipsy guests until they reached the open floor in front of the stage, where the band was playing an acoustic version of One Thing. Louis rolled his eyes. How delightfully cliche. Eleanor turned to face him, brown eyes full of trust and joy. For some reason, Louis's stomach twisted uncomfortably. Nerves. It was just nerves.

The band stopped playing, and the singer took the mic, clearing his throat to catch the attention of the party. "And without further ado, here's the first dance for Mr. and Mrs. Tomlinson."

Louis froze. He had completely forgotten that he would be expected to dance. But as the chords of some unremarkable pop ballad began to waft over his head, Eleanor tugged his hands around her waist and began to lead him around the floor, rhythmically turning with the music.

"Do you like the song?" she whispered into his ear.

"What? Oh yeah, it's lovely." He had no idea what it was, but it was pretty enough and at least it was slow so he didn't have to invest much effort into the dancing.

"It's our song, remember? It was playing at the restaurant on our first date when we were sharing the cheesecake. You said it was almost as pretty as me and then we had our first kiss. You do remember, right?"

Ugh. Louis mentally retched; had he really pulled that line? Not his best work, that's for sure. "Of course dear, of course. The Ivy. Of course I remember." Louis smiled down at her placatingly, hoping she would buy the lie. She did.

Eventually the song changed and other couples entered the floor, swaying and weaving like ships on the sea.

Once six songs had gone by, Louis thought it was an acceptable time for him to withdraw to the buffet. Just as he was about to excuse himself from Eleanor's surprisingly firm grasp, something caught his eye that made his heart stop.