larry stylinson one shots

guitar boy

a/n ok lets start off with apologizing for the fucking sappy shit i said about the stupid tree in the last chapter-

*not famous - high school au*

summary: harry is a flower crown hippie who likes to sing when he thinks nobody is listening. louis likes to listen.

louis' pov
life's a bitch.
life is a fucking bitch.

i hate it so much sometimes. it's like being gay is a crime in this stupid, stupid world. don't get me wrong - i'm not mad about being gay. i'm mad about what people think of the lgbtq+ community. that's why i havent come out yet.

i'm captain on the football team and i'm basically the only one on my team without a girlfriend. sorry, i was the only person on my team without a girlfriend.

that's where miss eleanor calder comes into play. i dont like her. she's pretty, sure. i don't know, maybe i would find her more appealing if she didn't have tits and sported a lovely dick. i think that would make her 10x more attractive.

one of the guys on my team said eleanor liked me, and i felt obligated to ask her out. i could've said no, but i just have to make life difficult for myself. yay.

i'm currently walking down a path that leads towards an open field with tall grass and flowers that blow easily in the breeze. i love that place, haven't been there since i was a kid though. figured i could vent about my homosexual problems to a dandelion or something.

what i didn't expect when i came upon the vast plains was music. i can hear faint guitar nearby. it sounds like it's someone actually playing, not a recording or song on spotify - no an actual person came here to fucking play their guitar and ruin my gay therapy session with a weed. what the fuck.

i was about to go punch this hobo until i heard the voice. it was a deep gravelly voice that held lots of emotion. it could be sweet and cute but also throaty and loud. i could listen to him sing 24/7 and not be angry. i would feel peace in the world.

guitar boy was singing behind a hill so i couldn't see his appearance. but if his looks were anything as good as his voice, this boy was hot as fuck.

maybe he was a buff guy with a leather jacket and a motorcycle.
maybe he was soft boy with long hair who wore skirts.
maybe he wasn't hot at all and was in fact walleyed and old with a beard that could match santa's.

i lay down in the grass and close my eyes. my back to the ground with my knees bent and my arms sprawled out to the side. i listened to the tune of the music tapping my foot with the slow beat.

"don't call me baby again
its hard for me to go home
to be so lonely"

the song was beautiful. i loved it, even though i only heard a couple lyrics. i loved how the songbirds in the surrounding trees added to the tune. i loved how his voice was flawless and held meaning in this stupid world.

"i just hope you see me in a little better light
do you think it's easy being of the jealous kind?
'cause i miss the shape of your lips
you'll win, it's just a trick
and this is it so i'm sorry"

i continue breathing in the fresh air along with his music. i listen until i can tell the song is coming to an end. i reluctantly get up and amble back towards the path i came from. i don't want guitar boy to know who i am just yet. maybe later.