How We Met: A Tinder Story (Larry Stylinson)✅

Disagreeing

Louis' POV

"Louis, I just... I seriously don't understand why you would wait to tell me until the night before the event?" Harry chokes into the receiver. "My parents keep asking me why you're not coming... and I just don't even have a reason...."

"I'm sorry," I reply, biting my lip. I'm sitting at my desk, and this is the last conversation I want to be having.

I feel bad, because I know Harry is disappointed in me and that I'm putting in a tough spot. But I genuinely cannot bring myself to go to Harry's parent's event.

I went to another event with his parents a few weeks ago, and it was emotionally draining. His dad kept poking at fun at me, and his mother wouldn't stop complaining about Harry and asking me questions about his personal life.

"So does Harry use the shampoo we got him from Paris?" she nagged, when Harry went to the bathroom. "You would know better than us. He hardly keeps in touch."

"I hope you're treating my boy well," Harry's father said not-so-discreetly later in the evening. "I never pictured him ending up with a guy, but here you are. And it's been, what? A year now? When are you popping the question.... I'm kidding!!!"

To say the night went badly would be an understatement. And Harry knew it was hard for me. He gets how much pressure was placed on me. Yet now, he's suddenly telling me it's not that bad - not reason enough to miss out on this event tonight. And I keep telling him it is...

"Harry, honestly, we talked about this," I continue. "And it's just too emotionally draining. I can't take it - and I have work in the morning. They want to travel up to Westchester - and I just... I can't do it..."

"Well you can but you don't want to," Harry pouts. "I know they're tough, but it wouldn't be for long. Plus there's gonna be drinks."

I want to tell him not enough drinks in the world could save me from those people, but I hold my tongue. That's a bit too far - even for me.

"It's just... I didn't think it through when I said yes," I say quietly. "I know there will be drinks, but it's still a lot."

Harry doesn't respond. Instead, he sighs deeply and I can tell he's crying - or about to.

"Just say it then," Harry finally says in a low tone.

"Say what?" I ask.

"The truth. That you don't want to come," Harry snaps.

"Okay. Fine. I don't want to come," I say, cringing.

"And that you never planned on coming and just stalled on telling me until it was too late to convince you," Harry continues.

I hate this. I hate how I'm making him so upset. But I've been holding my ground in this argument, and I'm not going to stop now.

"Okay, fine. I knew you would throw a tantrum, so I didn't tell you until now," I admit.

"Tantrum?" Harry repeats. I can picture his brow furrowing, his face darkening. "I'm not a child. You're a child for not telling me and hiding. Now I have to go alone, and they're gonna continue to pester me about why you couldn't make it. I'm so done with you, Louis."

"Hey!" I say, my voice raising a bit. "I love you so much, Harry, and you know that. But I'm not here to—"

"I know," Harry huffs. "You're not here to entertain me. Whatever. Have a good day tomorrow."

He hangs up and I sit there staring at my phone. Harry and I have fought a few times, like that time at the gym or during the cupcake incident. But it was never this bad— never this intense.