Larry Stylinson One Shots

Harry Knows Now

Summary: Louis seems distant lately and Harry doesn't know why, he's beginning to feel a bit unimportant.

~~

It's not that Harry feels insignificant, he knows he's not. He knows he could go to the local grocery store and probably receive more attention than a nun breakdancing at a baseball game. He knows that.

He knows Niall finds comfort in his and Harry's daily spontaneous karaoke sessions.

He knows Zayn appreciates Harry's participation in noontime smoking, so he's not alone.

He knows Liam is thankful for Harry's attentive ears when something is frustrating him to the point of combustion.

And Louis loves him.

He knows that.

Yeah.

He knows Louis doesn't mean to brush him off.

Louis didn't plan on cancelling their weekly Wednesday night date. Work gets busy.

He for sure didn't mean anything by it when, for the last week, he got up from bed before Harry woke up, leaving him alone on an empty mattress. They just have different sleep schedules, and Harry likes to sleep late.

And when Louis backed out of his promise to Harry to visit his family in Holmes Chapel last weekend, Harry convinced himself that it didn't mean anything. He's already met his family, it's not like he's ashamed of their relationship.

Right now, though. Right now, Harry's laying in bed with the covers pulled up to his nose. Louis' words from this mornings reverberate in his brain, stuck on a loop like a broken record.

"I'm so sorry, love. I'm going to be late tonight, I have to get papped with Calder."

Duty calls, right? Harry isn't duty, unfortunately. He feels like duty, though. Doodoo. Shit. Trash. Cow manure.

He knows he has no right to, but he feels upset. Jealous, maybe? No, mainly neglected. Would it kill Louis to carve out a little more time with him? Just a bit more. Only a smidge.

Sniffling quietly, he rolls onto his side and hitches the blankets up more, his hair splaying across the pillow beneath his head and his feet rubbing together to find warmth.

The lusciousness of the blankets and the plush of the pillow must have lulled Harry to sleep, because the next thing he knows, Louis' in his face.

"Wake up, Harry." he says roughly, not bothering to hug him awake like he used to. "You need to get up, for fuck's sake. We have our date at noon. By the way, I can't make it. I need to go makeout with Eleanor for the cameras. And then movie night tonight? Yeah, that's a no also. I'd give you an excuse, but I'm running out, I've used so many. I just can't stand the thought of being around you. You ugly fuck."

Harry whimpers, using the blankets to hide from his boyfriend and the harsh rays of the sun as Louis stomps out of the room. Tears roll down his cheeks, his voice shaking with the rest of his body.

"Please, Lou... please... come back... please love me again." Silent cries fill the room.

"Harry?"

A hand on his shoulder shakes him slowly.

"Harry, are you alright, love?"

Jolting awake, Harry gasps for air, sitting upright and looking around.

"What- what time is it?"

"Nearly midnight. Haz, baby, why are you crying?" Louis scoots closer on the bed, wrapping his arms around his body lovingly, pulling the curly head to his chest and whispering comfortingly.