If I Could Fly

Airport

First of all, thank you for reading! This is my first Larry fic (even though I'm completely obsessed) and I'm really excited to give this a try.

As you may have noticed there will be strong language in this (Louis, we're all looking at you... also I'm British) and there may be some mature scenes as well. Warnings include:
-depression
-self-harm
-addiction
-strong language
-smut

It's not as deep as it seems, I promise, feel free to enjoy and comment!
~~Carry

A/N 23.03.21

Hiiiiiiiii Just checking in to say I wrote this absolutely ages ago, and I'm just going through now to edit.

I wrote it back when I had absolutely no experience with Wattpad etc.... so it's a little shaky here and there. I'm going to add trigger warning to the start of specific chapters as a priority, I know now that it's something I should have done.

My ADHD ass might take a while to get around to it haha. But it's on my to-do!

Anyway loves, I hope you enjoy 😊

Harry stands with such ease that you couldn't imagine him weighing any more than a spark. He twinkles at everyone. Anything. He beams even brighter than the sun, and glows in the dark of the night. He's fire; poise; he holds a galaxy in the palm of his hand.

Even today, Harry shines like he can't stop, and there's probably a metaphor in that somewhere- something about him being the light to my darkest days (insert sappy bullshit here)- however, this is probably one of the worst days ever, and all those things that make Harry well... Harry... they're just making this harder.

"You need to put your charm away, before it gets all over everything." I say with a forced laugh, trying to convince myself that everything is fine.

It's kind of redundant at this point however, and he's always been freakishly good at knowing what's going on in my head, so there's really no point in making the effort.

I jump suddenly when he clears his throat and my eyes snap up to his. He's worried, (because the soulmate fuckery goes both ways and I also know him scarily well). When he speaks to me his tone is much lighter than the concern in his eyes, which is sweet and all but... I kind of just want him to baby me a little bit.

"You ok?" He asks, eyes searching my face for something. I don't ask what.

"Oh... um... yeh. Fine thanks" I smile up at him half-heartedly. He may know what's going on in my head better than I do, but I'll be damned if I admit to any feelings.

He sends me a funny look in return, and slings one of his arms around my shoulder as he hugs me to his side. It seems that he failed to keep his 'no obvious concern' rule that he seemed set on following three seconds ago. It feels much too good to complain.

"It'll be ok you know- I'll text you every day. I'll call you too, so I can hear you're beautiful voice while you're away."

I tut at this, and roll my eyes so hard it hurts, and though I will never come clean about the way I feel, his words always make me blush like a schoolgirl.

Its all that damn charm.

I press my nose into his shoulder and whisper " I'm gonna miss you". My heart shudders when I realise, that as from now, I won't be able to feel the warmth of his body next to mine when we both fall asleep halfway though a movie, and I won't hear the deep rasp of his voice when we wake the next morning, tired and stiff from sleeping in the sofa and I'll miss that. I'll miss everything. It's killing me a little.