[Hanger in a Closet] + [Stylinson]

[Chapter iv] + [we're the misfists]

 The photo on the side is like a summary of my FANFIC!!! No joking OMG hhahahaha it really is ;]

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Previously on Hanger in a Closet:

@StylesMyFace: IS LARRY STYLINSON REAL??

@StylesMyFace: I’m sorry you don’t have to answer it’s just that the whole fandom is curious and we don’t know for sure…

@Harry_Styles: Yes

My index fingers hover over the enter button, not pressing anything. Larry Stylinson technically (or is that sexually?) isn’t real, well one of the Stylinson’s aren’t.  I bite my lip nervously at the question. I so badly wanted for Larry to be real, for us to be able to tell the world we’re together and we’re happy. And that being gay in today’s society is not bad. That one shouldn’t be ashamed of who they are… and all that bullshit!

People don’t realize it’s so fucking hard to come out. It’s not like walking out of an ice-cream shop with a cone of vanilla and chocolate. No it’s like coming out of an ice-cream shop without the ice-cream and meeting serial killers waiting outside the shop. Ready to kill you. Society is ready to kill you.

@Harry_Styles: No but I am.

“But you take the risk of being killed.”

“Harry Edward Styles!” Nick barges into the room, his British voice quite high and uh-oh, he’s really angry. “Wake up! I know you’re bloody awake.”

I play it cool. “No I’m not.”  Obviously it didn’t work because he flips off the duvet and throws it across the wall, letting it slide slowly against the orange wall.

“Harry Fucking Styles explain yourself NOW!” he flares, his knuckles turning white about to punch the wall above me. Seconds later, a whole forms above my head in the wall, his eyebrows crunched together, his hair erect and his eyes wide with fury and violence. I sit up against my will and take a look at him. He’s oddly not dressed down because he’s in sweatpants and is that my blue beanie?

“Explain what?” I ask, hearing footsteps outside my door. Shit, it’s Louis, my inner god panics. Why is everyone around me panicking and being violent? And what’s with my massive migraine? I need a fag right now, please!

“You came out on Twitter you dipshit!” Nick says loudly.

Before I can react, Louis asks in shock, “What?”

“Louis, get the fuck out of this room,” Nick curses at him, throwing the pillow I was sleeping on at him. He ducks it and throws the middle finger at cockhead himself, throwing the same pillow towards him for it to…