Beautiful Nightmares (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 5

LOUIS’ P.O.V

My eyes flutter open, heavy with fatigue. Yawning with my mouth wide open, I attempt to stretch my arms over my head, but they appear to be restricted from doing so. I frown sleepily, my forehead creasing in confusion. Why couldn’t I move my arms? Had they suddenly become dislocated from my body?

Blinking rapidly as I try and think of the possible reasons why my limbs wouldn’t budge from the bed, my gaze shifts to a lump hidden underneath the covers directly beside me. Rich chocolate-coloured brown curls poke out from below the clump of hotel bed sheets, immediately notifying my brain that someone is occupying the bed with me. And that someone is Harry.

My faces burns red, the blood rushing to my face as I recall the events of last night.

I look down at my arms that are still tightly wrapped around his waist, trapped underneath his body weight. Our bodies are also in close proximity to one another, legs tangled together in a mass of limbs and chests pressed against each other’s own.

I glance back up at Harry; my cheeks flushed a bright pink in contentment. My stomach was swirling around in some sort of excitement, an alien emotion that I didn’t know or even understand how to react to it. Frowning, I shake my head, hoping to rid the butterflies fluttering around in the pit of my stomach. That’s just ridiculous – that absurdly marvelous feeling of being close to my best mate – it’s totally and utterly ludicrous.

I turn my attention back to the boy sleeping next to me, ignoring the confusing thoughts inside my head. Harry snores softly, curls flicking upwards with every exhale, the delicate ringlets flittering around. My gaze travels downwards to his eyelids, which are closed but relaxed; the pale ivory skin hiding the tiredness that seems to occupy Harry’s expression so often. Now that I think about it, Harry seems to be more stressed out in the past week than he’s ever been. From his constant movement – whether it was the twiddling of his thumbs or working out continuously – he can’t seem to sit still. He always seems to be absent minded in the meetings, eyes glazed over in boredom and his mind obviously miles away. I frown in concern; why has he been acting so weird? It’s not like him to be so uninterested – he’d at least bother to pretend to care. As I’m thinking this, his forehead creases, lines covering the skin as his lips pull downwards in a grimace.

My eyebrows knit together in worry. The typical Harry smirk seems to have been replaced by a nonchalant expression; even when he’s sleeping. Removing one arm from his waist, I reach out with my hand to smooth the wrinkles away. My thumb rubs against his warm forehead, sending tingles shooting up my arm but the lines on his skin relax, disappearing from sight as his face relaxes in a comfortable manner. A smile reaches my lips, pulling the corners of my mouth upwards. Now that’s more the Haz I’ve come to know and love.

Love. The words echo in my head, sending my stomach into a fit of twisting into intricate knots. Did I just think that? Impossible. Preposterous. Nope, I definitely did not. I couldn’t of. I must be hearing things…or at least hearing my thoughts wrong!

“But you love him in a brotherly way Louis – why are you being bothered by this?” a voice in my mind whispers.

I contort my face in confusion. Why would I be bothered by this? It’s not like I’m in love with him or something completely manically deranged like that…right?