please don't take my sunshine away...

Chapter One.

Playlist Song: Two Young, Louis Tomlinson

Summer 2009

When I was young I used to look into his eyes for hours. I would stare at them and watch as blue dashed between each of my green. The blotch of green in the right corner would always make me believe that we were made for each other. I would look in the mirror and see the dash of blue on the edges of my own and think of how much I love him. God, I love him. The world spins every day and I'm still in love with him. The world is unimaginable.

We met when I was fifteen. We were at the battle of the bands in the countryside of Manchester. I was up on stage singing my original song written with my bandmates of the one and only White Eskimo. Once known as the best band of Holmes Chapel high school. As I waited for the rest of my mates to plug in their guitars and amps. I was standing there shaking like a leaf a certain boy caught my eye.

His hair was long and was laid across his forehead in an immensely 2000's hair cut. I watched as he goofed around with his what I assumed friends as he waited for us to start the performance. Then his eyes met mine. I watched as he looked at me and a small smirk laced his lips.

I thought I would never see him again so I tried my hardest to make it count because I believed that this beautiful boy would be gone from my memory in about a year's time. My whole performance I watched him as he swayed side to side to the beat of the song and as he whispered the words softly. Afterward, I was quick to try and find this magical blue-eyed boy and after searching through every single person in the swarm of people I thought all hope was lost. I solemnly walked over to the men's bathroom in hope that maybe just possibly I would be able to see this boy again. I went over to the urinal and "did my business." Tough with my mind on the boy I had seen once before my hand slipped and in my mistake, I may have accidentally peed on a simple white converse that were standing in the urinal beside me.
"Oh god! I'm so sorry!" I screech thinking that my life would end because of the light yellow stain dusting the once clean shoe.
"Well it's not the end of the world," a raspy voice in a Yorkshire accent says calmly with slight laughter in his voice.

I look up and see the same tan skin, same bright blue eyes, and the same brown hair. My stomach tumbles in a mess of nerves and butterflies.
"Oops?" I say. I zip up my fly and hear him do the same.
"Hi," he says, stepping away from the toilet and extending his hand for me to shake.
"I'm Louis Tomlinson," I take his hand in my own and give it a simple shake. The feeling of his warm skin on my own makes my whole body tingle.
"Harry Styles," I say.
"Well Harry Styles, your name sounds as if it's made to be for a star about as much as your presence does." I can feel a slight blush cover my cheeks and the next second I'm following Louis by his outstretched hand through the crowd of high schoolers to the front of the gym.

We danced and sang for the rest of the night and his hand stayed in mine the entire time. I watched as he swung his hair when he moved his head to the sound of the music. I had the best night I ever had but after the last performance, I felt like my world was ending. I'd only known Louis for a couple of hours and I was already infatuated with him.

When it was time for him to go I packed my stuff up as well, said goodbye to my band and then we both walked over to the door together.
"I had a great night with you Harry," Louis says.
"Me too," I say looking him straight in the eye.
"I know this may sound kind of weird buttttt..." he says looking down at his shoes. "Could I have your number?" he asks timidly.
I blush. "Sorry, but my phone's dead," I say quietly, hoping that he won't be as devastated as I am. His eyes drop and the pit of my stomach aches because how could I hurt such a beautiful sweet creature.
"I can work with that," he whispers. He opens the satchel at his hip and takes out a green sharpie. He writes down a number on the back of my hand in simple lettering of his own. My smile doesn't leave my lips the whole time he writes.