Louis, to his horror, attends an elitist university in which the name Zayn Malik means something, Niall Horan doesn't stop talking, there are pianos everywhere, and Harry Styles, only son of a drug-addled, clinically insane ex-rocker, has a perfect smile and empty eyes. WARNING: all rights go to velvetoscar on ao3 Cover made by: whatkooloser

"It's not like it meant something to you, right? You're married after all." Louis gave his infamous smirk, which was not suppose to look this hot. "Of course, it didn't." The tent in Harry's trousers disagrees. "I don't mind paying back the favour. Any place. Anytime. In any way." Louis winked. And with that Harry left alone to come all over the bed sheet with the frame of his marriage turned down on the bedside table.

"you're so small." as if to prove his point, louis squeezed harry tightly in his arms, and harry just scrunched up a little bit, snuggling his head impossibly farther into louis' chest. "my pretty paper doll." and when louis squeezed him again, placing a shaky, yet warm kiss on harry's cold forehead, harry felt his heart feel that way again, he felt love. a soft flutter, that even the most self control in the world couldn't stop. he loved louis. he loved him even though he didn't want to, he really didn't. okay, maybe a little. *** 1ST PLACE IN THE HOLIDAY 2014 BROMANCE AWARDS FOR FAMOUS LARRY STORIES. #2 in Fanfiction #1 in One Direction

Es ist Louis' Abschlussjahr und er ist fest entschlossen, es richtig zu machen. Doch neben seinen Stollenschuhen, einer gesunden Dosis Sarkasmus und seinem lächerlichen besten Freund hat er auch noch eine komplizierte Familie, eine erschreckend ungewisse Zukunft und einen Todfeind, der sein Leben nur noch schlimmer macht. Aber Todfeinde "mit Vorzügen" war nicht gerade der Plan. Oder: Die, in der Louis und Harry definitiv keine Freunde sind, und Fußball alles ist. ! NICHT meine eigene Geschichte, die Rechte der Original Story liegen bei Isthatyoularry von ao3 - die Rechte der Übersetzung liegen bei mir!

Seine langen Finger umschlossen meine Handgelenke. Er drückte mich gegen den Baum. Er kam meinem Nacken immer näher. Ich fühlte seine kalten Lippen, wie sie, auf der Suche nach meiner Halsschlagader, über meine erhitzte Haut glitten.