The Dare // Larry Stylinson Fic

Chapter 1 "Daily"

Louis' POV

'Dear diary, there's these new kids in school, I don't know their names yet. They seem younger than me, maybe, two-three years younger? I'm not sure. Liam and Zayn keep talking about how we're gonna make friends with them and I can't wait.' Just as I finished writing in my journal, my mum calls for dinner so, I close it and leave it next to the bed.

When I make my way to the dining table, my mother, Jay, lays the plate of food in front of me. "How was your day?" She asks "Uh. . . good. How 'bout you?" "'Had a lot of work to do." She was acting strange, she never usually asks about my day, normally she would just sit and ignore me. Then I realised, my 'dad' wasn't home. "Mum?" I wait for her eyes to meet mine "Where's Mark?" "He's at work honey. He works the night shifts from now on." A sigh of relief comes out of my mouth.

Before she could say anything I get up, put my plate of food on the counter and run upstairs. When I get to my room I close the door, get my earphones and play some music while I drift off into a dreamy sleep.

Harry's POV

I wake up to the sound of my alarm blasting in my ear, "RISE AND SHINE HAROLD!!", that Irish accent will never get old. "I'm awake, I'm awake". I get out of bed, have a shower, eat, brush my teeth, all that shit and then I hear Niall call me again, "COME ON YOU ASSHOLE, YOU'RE TAKING WAY TOO LONG!! WE'LL MISS THE FIRST PERIOD!!", I chuckle to myself thinking of how I've put up with him for nearly three years, it's incredible really "COMING!!" I shout down. We live in a little appartement together, it's great having Niall around.

We start walking to the school named 'Princess Park' and as we we're about to cross, a nice red convertible speeds down the road. There seem to be three guys in it. The guy in the backseat had short brown hair maybe a couple of tattoos, I couldn't really see. The one in the passenger seat had black hair, looked quite mad to be honest, but the guy that really caught my eye was the one driving the car. His nice, golden, brown hair blowing in the breeze and those breathtaking ocean blue eyes.

I made eye contact with him for a second but the next thing I know they're going at full speed. Niall and I jump out the way and all we hear as a response is laughing as they drive off. We continue to make our way to school and finally arrive.

Louis' POV
*In the classroom*

I sit at my usual seat, qt the back and wait for Professor Waind to start. The professor opens his mouth but just as he was about to talk there's a knock on the door. When it opens there he is, the boy I don't know the name of, the one I nearly ran over this morning, he's standing in the doorway of the class. "Hi, My names Harry Styles." So that's what he's called, it's decent I guess. "I'm Professor Waind, take the seat next to Mr Tomlinson over there."

He points at me makinv Harry's eyes dart to my mine. My breath hitches, I don't know why. Then the young boy starts walking towards me, our eyes don't separate from each other until he trips over a bag. "Oops" I say, he looks up at me and says "Hi" with a grin on his face. 'Why is he so happy?' I ask myself. Harry then gets up and sits on the chair on my right. He tries to make conversation through the whole hour but I just ignore him. I wasn't in the mood to talk.

The day went pretty normal, skipped some classes, smoked a bit with the boys, nothing interesting. A girl came up to me and started flirting, but I turned her down cause the only thing on my mind were those gorgeous green eyes and those chocolate coloured curls- 'wait no, why am I thinking of that? What is wrong with me? I don't even know if he's gay, I shouldn't be talking about him like that?'

When I got back home my mums car wasn't in the driveway but marks was. I knew what was going to happen so I walked in and waited for it to come. I heard Marks footsteps getting closer and closer. I closed my eyes and that's when I felt it, a fist against my jaw, a kick in my stomach, I fell to the ground. Mark kept hitting me harder and harder until he had enough. He always felt the need to use me as a punching bag dew to him being homophobic.

When he was done I got up, carefully, and locked myself in my room. I went into the cupboard, pulled out my earphones and listened to some music to escape. That night, I cried myself to sleep as I dreamt of the love I could've had if I wasn't so messed up.