Guilty Pleasure (Larry Stylinson - Stranger sequel)

Chapter 1 (Guilty Pleasure)

Harry POV

Let me give you all a little update on what my life have been so far, as many of you know my name is Harry Styles and I don't really know what I am doing to survive, it's not like I am in some kind of reality or something of that matter, but I've had a pretty wild couple of months, starting with the fact that my best friend Liam is still in a wheelchair trying to get better from a car crush he suffer with his "friend" Miss V, commonly known as Veronica, which they haven't let me visit once and it's in a room living because some oxygen tank is connected to her, but I don't know anything because apparently I am too young for that kind of information, bloody lies, but fights are not my thing.

I am living in a little flat in London with my best mate Niall, a charming Irish lad, well it's more like a storage room, who actually cares about that? My mom calls me almost every day to see how I am doing (not that I always pick up), and Miss Lily, a family friend calls often too because she is the sweetest angel ever, and in good days she sends cupcakes or sweet things that Niall eats (if I am lucky he leaves some for me) also I volunteer with my good friend George Shelley in a non-profit organization called "Angels", we package food on weekends for Aids patients and we got a special case we need to see at least once a week. My case is a charming lad called Jaymi, he just turned 23 last week (I think) and celebrate it with a little reunion of just close friends, he has become more than just social work, he is my friend and he was involve with... some lad, that I kind of fall in love with, but more on that matter later.

After a while of living alone, I decided that I have to work in order to save my mom from sending me money every month, and my sister of mocking me for that and calling me a disable child (in the sweetest sisterly way possible). So Niall decided to put a kissing booth like the ones in American movies and be kissograms (I heard that word on a TV show, don't blame me) we would go to every party and kiss the ladies... but that did not work and we only got like 2 pennies, so he is now using his photography techniques and taking pictures of teen girls that can't afford real professionals, and I am the assistant, so we are getting by, somehow, and yes my mom still sends me money, but London is the world's most expensive city, it's not my fault.

But the one thing that is still in my mind, buzzing like a little bee, or actually bothering me like a big... rhino, is the fact that I fall in love. It sounds nice, but it was not the typical love story, it could be, but he did not want to, we meet online, in a page called Omegle, we found each other there every single Friday for 3 months, and after that, the day Liam crushed, we meet, in an empty hospital room, and it was truly magical, he touch me and I touch him, I still remember those blue eyes glowing, looking at me, his hand perfectly fitting mine, his amazing bum, his hair looked marvelous, his little pointy nose, his insecurities and the way he pronounced my name so softly and so raspy at the same time, he was absolutely perfect, and us together as a couple could be the end of the love story, and I could have him in this moment with me, holding me tight while we watch the finale of Celebrity Big Brother, which I don't like, but I am sure he would love because he is one of those persons that does the best snarky, yet fun and assertive comments. I miss him so much, I would love to have him right here, but it was his choice, not mine.

He said "things would happen, if they are meant to be", I have that pasted in my mind, every night I remember that, and also him holding my hands while saying "there are a lot of things you need to do before actually knowing you want to be with someone"... he did not say exactly what were those things, but I want to do them, I want to have him. In the other hand, he didn't tell me more about himself, although the Friday tradition has remained, but now it's just a small text message, still it makes my heart jump of my chest his little "How's the week" and my obvious but fake answer "pretty busy" and that's it, almost every Friday, but not signs of him, Niall swears he have seen him near our flat a few times, but I don't rely on Niall, specially cause sometimes he is drunk or really sleepy, which is basically the two levels he have.