Picture Perfect | Larry Stylinson ❀ [Mpreg]

One

Just so everyone knows, yes, I am rewriting this story. I think it has a lot of faults, and I know Harry's character may come across now how I intended so I plan on fixing a lot of things of. I've been writing these stories for a couple years now so I'm hoping with my experience I can make all my stories continuously better. Enjoy x

Alan Carr: Welcome back to Alan Carr: Chatty Man, I'm Alan Carr, and right now I have the famous Louis Tomlinson sitting here with me today. So Louis, here we are with you two years after your first debut on the England Olympic Team. At the time you were just stepping into the football world, and I remember how nervous you felt. But man, look at you now. No longer that scared seventeen year old anymore. You're now on your way to becoming the best forward Chelsea and all of England has ever seen.

Louis: Well, it does take a lot of work to get to where I am today, so it's really no surprise.

Alan Carr: Give yourself some credit, though. You're only nineteen years old, and you're in the talks to becoming the next team captain for Chelsea. You're so young, but you're so talented at what you do .

Louis: Now c'mon, you're just making me blush.

Alan Carr: I mean, who do you celebrate this with? I bet all your friends and family are just so proud of your success in such a shot amount of time.

Louis: ...I mean, yeah - um - it's definitely great to be surrounded by people who support me. Especially my friends who help push me everyday. It's uh - It's great, but you also don't get to where you are without some sort of dedication, so a lot of my free time had been spent on myself and on my game. It's my main priority.

As soon as Harry's eyes flutter open to the bright sunlight streaming through the curtains, the television shuts off automatically. He finds it frustrating to have fallen asleep with the TV still on since it disrupts his peaceful awakening.

All he hopes for is a few more moments of snooze time, and the effort required to open his eyes, locate the remote, and switch off the television is an unwelcome interruption to his morning routine.

The onset of the first week of school arrives unexpectedly for Harry. It feels like just last week he was welcoming the beginning of summer, but suddenly he finds himself immersed in school routines once more.

It's not that he despises school; in fact, he enjoys learning. However, what bothers him about this particular school is his lack of popularity. Despite his academic prowess, Harry doesn't quite fit in as a favorite among his peers.

At sixteen, he's a year younger than his classmates due to his advanced academics, a feat that often earns him curious glances.

Nevertheless, he's unfazed by this distinction. He's eagerly awaiting his upcoming graduation in the spring, looking forward to moving past this phase of his life.

"Harry," Anne's sudden call from downstairs elicits a groan that rumbles deep in his throat.

Getting scolded by his mother in the morning is certainly not a part of his routine.

"You need to hurry up. I don't want you late for school," she urges.

Harry protests by burying his head deeper into the pillow for a few more seconds before finally tossing it across his bed in resignation. Rolling onto his back, he gazes up at the ceiling, lingering there for a brief moment until the aroma of bacon wafts into his room.

His nose wrinkles at the scent, and he exhales heavily, surprised his mum had managed to find the time this morning to cook him something. Such gestures are rare these days.