you are half of me (and I am all for you) - larry stylinson

eight

"Hey, isn't it funny that our zodiac signs are compatible?"

"They are?" Louis wasn't even sure if he knew what his zodiac sign was. He always got confused between cancer and capricorn. One of his sisters was into astrology, and he tried to listen along and pay attention, but she lost him after she started talking about sun, moon, and rising signs. Apparently it wasn't as simple as just one sign ruling your entire personality.

"Yeah," Harry affirmed, tortoiseshell shades on so it was impossible to see his eyes. As if he knew Louis had no idea what their signs were, he added, "I'm an aquarius and you're a capricorn. It's like, the match made in heaven."

"Alright, I'll take your word for it. Though we are kind of like soulmates, don't you think?" He didn't mean to say that out loud, but oh well. "Best friend soulmates. Is there a word for that?"

"I dunno. But yeah... It does feel like that."

"Hey, Harry," Niall said from where he was leaning against Patricia and tuning his guitar. Apparently it was just to catch his attention and make some meaningful eye contact with him, because he didn't say anything else after that. It seemed to mean something to Harry, though, because he dropped Louis' hand and took a step away from him.

"What did you think of me when we first met?"

Louis raised his brows from where he was playing with Harry's guitar. The had the day off, and had spent it lying on the beach and swimming in the ocean. Patricia was parked in the sand and they had the trunk open, which was where Louis was sitting, trying to teach himself a new instrument. One could never be too musical.

"Well, for starters I was really pissed off at you 'cause you were trying to take my album," he answered dryly, recalling how he and Harry literally had a mini tug-of-war fight over the Bon Iver vinyl at the record shop. It was a special edition and exactly the album Louis wanted for his collection, what could he say?

Harry pouted. It was funny how he could come off as big and intimidating if you didn't know him, but then he would turn around and make a face like that and you'd just know he was a big softie. "Hey, I wanted that record too, and you're the one who got it in the end."

"Excuse me, we share that album. Even though I'm the one who paid for it."

"Yeah, and you keep it at your house, so I have to come over if I ever want to listen to it."

He wasn't wrong. "Don't act like you don't love coming over and listening to music with me," Louis chastised, thinking of all the times they hung out together on days with bad weather, curling up with a cup of tea and listening to their favorite songs on the vintage turntable in Louis' room. It was always like the day they first hung out all over again, when Harry convinced Louis to lie in his own bed with him just to listen to the whole record from the first song to the last with no interruptions, as if getting into a practical stranger's bed was a normal thing to do.

Louis had been much more hesitant than his usual confident self that day, quieter and just unsure. Not to mention very aware that Harry was socute and hot all at the same time. Cute-hot boys who had a passion for music were quite dangerous.

He was so lucky they were friends, though. Harry becoming a part of his life was the best thing that happened to him in the past decade. He got to meet the other boys through him, and start a band with them—and now they were living the dream.

"No, but seriously."

"I dunno." It was hard to remember, now that they had been through so much together. "I thought you were great, but also, like, a bit pretentious I guess. Which obviously I was wrong about. The fancy cameras and chelsea boots threw me off."

Harry hummed, looking thoughtful.

"Now you wear grandpa clothes, of course. Which I wholeheartedly support. Even the ugly loafers."

"Heyyy," he frowned.

"I'm glad you're comfier now. Skinny jeans are the worst."

"You wear them all the time, though."

"Yeah, so you plebs can enjoy the view of my beautiful ass. Also, I wear more sweats than jeans. I just can't perform in a tracksuit when the rest of you look like indie rock hipsters. It would be so out of place."

"We are an indie rock band, after all... I love your tracksuits though. You wear athleisure well."

"Well, thanks."

"Do you want some help?"

"With dressing myself? I think I've got it. Thanks, though."

Harry laughed. "No, I mean with the guitar. I could teach you. Not that you can't do it yourself, but."

"Oh. That'd be nice." He tapped his fingers on the hollow body, enjoying the sound. It reminded him that he and Liam tried making an ASMR video once, but it didn't work out because they couldn't stop laughing at how ridiculous it looked out of context. "We should- I wanna sit on the roof again."

Harry's eyes lit up. "We could do that."

They set the guitar aside, and Harry boosted Louis up again, because that was the most efficient way of doing it. They were almost experts now. Harry handed the guitar to him before taking Louis' hands and letting himself be pulled up.

"Oh, wow," Harry breathed beside him.

"Why does being ten feet higher make everything more beautiful?" They were both a bit in awe.

The sight stretched out in front of them was like from a movie scene, the gorgeous beach, ocean, and sky illuminated in a colorful sunset. It was breathtaking.

"Here, show me the chords you know."

Which was how they ended up playing guitar while sitting on top of Louis' trust Bahama blue 1975 VW bus named Patricia, on the Pacific coast of southern California, feeling the sea breeze in their hair, caressing their skin. Like almost every other time Louis hung out with his bandmates, it turned into a singalong, and soon they were laughing and screaming the lyrics to Dolly Parton's "Jolene," and everything felt like the most beautiful cliche in the world.

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