Larry Stylinson: These Arms Were Made For Holding You

Chapter 3: Louis

 Two day later, it came on the radio. The memories came flooding in. The night nearly six months after our breakup. Harry had been drunk beyond belief and we'd both made some rather stupid decisions that night. The piano was a rhythm I knew I'd heard Harry play long ago, but it had been when he was simply messing around.

And then I listened to the lyrics. And I mean, really listened to the lyrics. It all seemed to blend together in this perfect blend of Harry. The piano reminded me of the silk sheets I'd woken up in and how right it felt. But while it felt right, it felt incredibly wrong.

All the lyrics rang incredibly true to everything that had happened between them. From the missing each other to saying we cared. But none of it was ever enough.

And if I hadn't already been convinced the song was about me, I was sure now. He hated coffee, but the one time he'd actually had it was with me. At the Beachwood Cafe where we had our first date. And so here I was, pulling up to the gate of a house I wasn't sure would let me in.

And when they did, I just wanted to yell out to the world that the man standing before me, with his one year old daughter on his hip, tugging at his curls, was the man that I loved more than anything else in this world.

"What are you doing here, Louis," he'd asked. His eyes were clouded with hurt and regret, but most of all, love.

"I just," I began. I wasn't sure what I was doing here. How was I supposed to tell Harry if I didn't even know myself. "I wanted to see how you are," I finally said.

"'M good," he told me. It was clear as day that he was lying. The tears brimming in his eyes seemed to betray his words.

"She's cute, Darcy," I tell him, watching as the girl tangles her hands in his hair, much like I wanted to do. "And you look good. I mean, you always looked good, but," I rambled.

"Louis," he interrupted. "You're rambling, love." His eyes in that moment were full of hope, and had I thought he was actually single, I would have told him the truth. I would have told him that I did want kids, even back then. I would have told him that I only wanted kids with him. And I would have told him that I loved him. But he had a girlfriend.

"Harry," she called, coming out to where the two of us stood frozen. There were simply too many words we both needed to say, but neither one of us sure where the other stood. "Hello, Louis." I was beyond confused as to why she had any idea as to who I was. She was his and he didn't talk about me.

"Louis, this is Taylor," Harry said.

"I'm taking Darcy. Talk to him," she instructed. He nodded, handing the girl over to her and wiping his eyes.

"Taylor seems lovely. I'm glad you found someone," I told him. I was lying through my teeth. As much as I did wish he was happy, I wanted him to be happy with me. I wanted him to wake up and snuggle into my side and pretend he was still asleep when we both knew it was an act to get me to snuggle with him. I wanted him to tell me all his bad jokes and dirty ones alike. I wanted it to be me.

"Louis, Taylor and I aren't actually together," he tells me.