Little Things // A Larry Stylinson Faniction

Eight

A wall of warmth hits me as we stagger into the tea-shop, the smell of fresh cakes and scones filling our nostrils. The cold dissipates almost immediately, leaving our softly tinted cheeks looking rosier than ever. I look at Gemma, tears welling up in my eyes for unknown reasons. She returns the look by sadly smiling at me, gesturing to go and sit at a table. I do, choosing one near the back. It's surrounded by flowers, a mural of rose buds stuck to the wall. Behind me, a bookcase, towering to the roof, with numerous vintage titles. I take a seat in the plush velvet armchairs, taking a deep breath in. There's another scent filling my nostrils: age. Its musk tingles my lips, the familiar smell carrying around the room. It reminds me of the familiar smell that is Louis. Whenever I hug him, he smells so comfortable, like your favourite book on a rainy day. I cry silently, watching the lights of the tea-shop go blurry as the tears leave my eyes.

I take a sip of my English Breakfast, letting the warm drink slide down my throat carelessly. It's bitter, but I'm not bothered to add sugar. Instead, I take quick, small sips, trying to wash the taste away with more tea. Gemma sits across from me, throwing me anxious looks every now and then.

"Harry, please talk," She says, interrupting me from one of my sips. I look at her incredulously. What if he walks into here, hearing me pour my heart out again? And what if he just pretends like nothing ever happened again? I can't let that happen.

"Harry, he's not here," Gemma reads my mind, and I sigh.

"But what if he is?"

"Haz, he's not. He's with Eleanor."

"Eleanor." Her name is dirt on my tongue. I don't know why, but I immediately disliked her, and the way she clung to Louis' chest. The way she swayed her hips when she walked, like she knew what she was doing. The way she ignored me like I was scum.

"Harry," Gem snaps me out of my thoughts, a slightly bored look on her face as she sips the last dregs of her tea.

"Please. I promise he's not here." I sigh, another wave of tears coming over me. Where do I start?

"I love him, Gem. He's so breathtaking and beautiful, and he doesn't know it, but he is, and it hurts because I don't even exist to him, and it hurts because I love him so much." I take a deep breath, scared to continue. Fuck, I'm petrified.

"I don't even know where to start, Gem. He's so captivating. His eyes are just so beautiful, like pools of light. And his lips- they're so red and soft, and I wish I could touch them more. And his hair is like a waterfall of chocolate. And he has the cutest little button nose, I just want to kiss it endlessly. And when he smiles, a real smile, he shows me his dimples, and they're so precious. Gem, he's an angel, I swear it sometimes." I look up at her, twiddling my thumbs. She's just smiling, letting me continue with my lengthy monologue. She gives me a nod, egging me to continue.

"But it's not just his outside that's beautiful. He's beautiful inside, too. He's funny, and his thoughts are so utterly beautiful, even though I don't get to hear them often. And when he wants to do something, he follows through. I strive to have his ambition, Gem. He's truly amazing." I ramble, letting my thoughts flutter out of my mouth like butterflies. It's an alien feeling. I've never talked as freely as I am now, letting my thoughts tumble into the air, Gemma listening to every word I say. I've never had anyone properly listen to me like she is right now, and another wave of gratefulness washes over me.

"Gem, he's perfect in my eyes. I just want me to be perfect to him." I frown, wishing my hair was a different stye, wishing my eyes weren't so far apart, wishing my arms were more muscly, wishing that my nose wasn't so big, wishing that I could be perfect. It is a harsh reality, pointing out all my flaws to myself.

"Gemma, why am I so ugly? Why does he make me feel so ugly?" I burst into tears, people turning around to see what all the fuss is. Gemma gets up, tears in her eyes.

"Shh, Harry. You're not ugly. You're such a kind boy, and Louis is lucky to have you." The tears start streaming faster than before, wishing that Louis really did want me.

"But I am, Gem. He doesn't want to notice me because I'm so horrid."

"No, Bambino. That's not true. Don't say that."

"B-But it i-is." I start blubbering, emotions overwhelming me. People are starting to stare.

"Hey, let's go for a walk." Gemma says, only just holding in her own tears. I nod curtly, abruptly standing up and leaving the tea-shop as quick as I can. I can feel people's eyes following us as we rush out, hushed whispers being shared among them. The cold winter afternoon hits me like a truck, wisps of cold making their way into every crevice of my body. My teeth start to shake, and Gemma pulls me into a tight hug. I cry, letting her guide me to a park bench that sits lonely on the sidewalk.

"Harry," Gemma says, her voice cracking, but her eyes staying strong nonetheless, "You are beautiful. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, especially Louis. You don't deserve it." She kisses my cheek warmly, giving me a hopeful smile. I give her a broken one in return, wiping my incoming tears away with the swipe of my hand.

"Maybe," Is all I reply.