Forbidden Love [Larry Stylinson]

Chapter 2

I arrive at the office in a short 20 minutes, but it felt like an eternity. I try to convince myself that nothing bad will happen as I go up the elevator to meet with management. The elevator slows to a stop and dings, signifying that I made it to floor 7. I walk out of the elevator, and approach the door that will seal my fate. I take a deep breath and reach for the door knob with my still-shaking hands. When I enter the room, my gaze shifts to the two men wearing black suits who are sitting at the small table.

"Hello, Louis. Have a seat right here please, this will only take a couple of minutes." I sit down and I start to think how Harry first took the news. "As you may have seen, there are pictures going around of you and Harry kissing. And as you know, we try to keep you two apart in public to avoid rumors like this from being conjured up. I hope you know that if this gets out, your's and Harry's careers could be on the line." I fight back my growing anger and say with a calm tone.

"What are you going to do now?" I try to be as polite as possible, which is hard to do when somebody comes after your relationship. It is hard enough as it is to have to hide for what feels like eternity, and now management is telling me that Harry and I can't even be in public with each other?

"Well, the five of you are going out tonight, so try not to be around Harry."

"Is that it?" I impatiently question the men.

"Yes, that is all Louis. Thank you for your time." I quickly stand up out of my seat and scoff once I close the door, exiting the room. "Yeah, 'thank you for your time' my ass." I say. How could they do this to me and Harry? "Don't they know how hard it is to hide our relationship already, and now we can't even be in public together? This is unbelievable!" I whisper to myself in the isolated elevator.

"Have a good day, Louis." The receptionist says as I exit the elevator and walk out the door.

"Yep." I half-heartedly reply. As soon as the words escape my mouth I cringe because it sounded rude, but I really don't care right now. I just wanted to go home and see Harry, and get drunk at the club to try and forget about this nightmare. Pushing the speed limit, I arrive home in 15 minutes, 5 minutes shorter than my drive to the office. I pass the threshold of my house and throw my keys on the dark marble countertop with a clang. I stop, because I think I hear faint rustling upstairs. Harry is probably getting dressed, and I should go check on him.

I trudge up the steps, counting each step as I always do. When I reach 12, the final step, I see Harry dressed for the club, and heading back into the bathroom. He closes the door, gently this time, and I hear the lock click. It's an odd thing of Harry to do, but I understand that he is upset. As I approach the door, I softly call for Harry. No answer. I quietly knock on the door so I don't startle him.

"Are you alright, honey?" I coo from the outside of the bathroom. Again, no answer. I lightly knock once more, and I hear the door unlock. I open the door and peer inside. I quickly look him up and down and admire his outfit, smiling as I remember how much I love his fashion taste. Harry is wearing black skinny jeans, light brown Chelsea boots that you could tell he had been wearing for a couple of months, and a flowy blouse, which he made look masculine with the sleeves rolled up, and the top few buttons undone so you could see the two birds on either side of his chest. He paired it with a silver cross necklace, which he almost never takes off. He is sitting on the rim of the bathtub, and is looking down at his hands, playing with his rings.

Without a word, I walk over to him and squat down in front of him. When I place my hands on his knees, he looks up, but avoids my eyes. The tears in his red eyes are visible, so I could tell he had been crying for a while. I gingerly rub his knees with my thumbs; he takes a deep breath and sighs, and puts his head back down again.

"Hey." I whisper, and gently lift his head up by placing the side of my index finger underneath his chin. This time when he looks up, his green eyes meet my blue ones. I could see that new tears had formed since he had last lowered his head, and they were rolling down his cheeks now. I carefully wipe his tears away, and Harry starts to sob. I hate knowing that he is hurting. I sit on the floor and lean my back against the wall, stretching my legs out in front of me. I motion for Harry to come sit with me by waving my hand in my direction and he accepts my silent offer. He rests his head on my shoulder and hugs me tight. I wrap my left arm around him and hug him with equal force, and I tangle my right hand in his hair and gently play with it to calm him down. He always loves when I play with his curls.

"It's not fair, Lou. I hate it." I understand all that he was communicating and more with just these 7 words. Whenever Harry has to deny rumors in interviews or with fans, it tears him apart just a little bit each time. He doesn't understand why he has to hide his love and happiness; he just knows he would be in trouble if he let something get out, because management is always with us.

"I know, honey. I'm sorry." Liam, Niall, and Zayn say it always seems like denying our relationship hurts Harry more, but even they don't see all that goes on between my boyfriend and I. Sure, I may not cry around the boys as much when I have to deny the rumors, but that doesn't mean it doesn't kill me each time I have to say, "No, we are just good friends," or, "That picture is photoshopped." Once my boyfriend calms down, he remains in the same position, but starts to trace the little sewn-on sailboats on my shirt with his finger. I smile because the 19 year old reminds me of a child due to him being transfixed by the pattern on my shirt. Finally, Harry speaks up.

"Did they talk to you, too?" He asks in his raspy voice. I love the way he talks, especially when he whispers things in my ear when we are in public.

"Yeah. They told me that we should try to stay apart in public."

"Are we?"

"We should try for tonight, but they can't stop us from cuddling at night...or doing other things..." I say as I tickle his sides. He giggles at this and tenses up his body because of how ticklish he is. Harry looks up at me and leans in to kiss me, and I close my eyes as our lips meet. Suddenly, the doorbell rings. I remember that Liam said he was going to pick everyone up; Harry gets up and I follow. Before we walk downstairs, we look in the full length mirror in our bedroom. Harry fixes his hair and I straighten my tear-stained shirt. There is no reason for me to change because it is a dark colored shirt, so there are no traces of tears.

"Ready?" Harry asks as he turns around.

"Yeah." I respond with a smile. Harry grabs my hand and we walk to the door together, both in a better mood.

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