World Cup [larry stylinson a.u.]

17.0

THE BET

“Do I look good?” I ask her when we are about to leave the hotel.

“I’m going to regret this,” she takes a pause, “But you always look good.”

“I know,” I say and then we start our walk to the tourist’s hotel.

“Girl from Ipanema you said?”

“Yes,” I start to walk faster, “It’s just a few blocks away from here.”

“I don’t feel like walking,” she stops, “Let’s take a cab.”

“No,” I grab her arm to stop her, “I need the fresh air to sober up.”

“Ugh,” she sighs, “You are a pain in the ass, you know that right?”

“You were the one who were insisting me and now you’d rather stay here? Okay let’s stay,” I joke. My mood is weirdly excellent right now.

“No, let’s go,” she walks reluctantly, “But I better be your maid of honor after all this.”

“Wouldn’t you be my best girl? I don’t know how it works for gay weddings.”

“Not sure,” she laughs, “Best girl sounds better I guess.”

“I’ve never actually thought about any of this,” I confess.

“About getting married?”

“Yes,” I frown, “I think I gave up on the idea long ago.”

“I can’t wait to meet this miracle maker guy. I hope he looks as good as he does on instagram.”

“He looks better,” I wink at her, “It’s weird cause the first time you look at him, he seems ugly but then he just gets cuter by the second. And you should hear his voice, it’s so annoying but nice at the same time. And he smells really nice and he dresses very well.”

“Aww,” she interrupts me, “You are so into him. I think I’m going to die from cuteness overload.”

“Stop it with the Aw thing,” I laugh anyways, “Louis uses it all the time and I hate it.”

“You called him Louis. You called him Louis,” she gets annoying.

“Stop,” I look around so we can cross the street, “What should I say? I didn’t bring anything, should I get him something?”

“Harry,” she stops the walk, “Don’t over do it. We are just casually dropping by.”

“No, I don’t want that. I want him to know that I’m going there to look for him.”

“Yes, but you don’t need to bring a present,” she smiles, “It’s all cute but don’t scare him. He already freaked out once.”

“The weird part is that he doesn’t look like the type of guy who freaks out,” I think out loud, “I genuinely thought that he was already googling wedding dresses after I told him I liked him.”

“There’s obviously a few other stuff you need to learn about him then,” she gets serious, “We are joking around about the gay wedding and shit but I don’t want you to get your hopes up for nothing.”

“Shut up, I’m not actually considering to marry the tourist,” I laugh at her, “I’m not that into him,” I lie.

“Sure you are not,” she teases me, “You look like a puppy with a huge bone right now.”

“What should I tell him?”

“That you were worried about him,” she pauses for a while, “I’m tired, let’s stop walking.”