A Twist of Fate - Larry Stylinson

Part I

Heeey there! :D so this is our superduperbly long oneshot. We're uploading it all at once but we're going to split it into parts. (I would say take your time with reading it, but whatever pleases you I guess xD) 

**For story purposes, both Harry and Louis are the same age.

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They had been friends since the day they were born. More specifically, their families were friends and so they were friends too.

There were the photographs to prove it as well, even if their memories of being together only started when they were about 4 or 5.

There were the candid shots. Photographs of them in the same cot and in the same bathtub. A photograph of them beside each other, each holding one leg of that old stuffed elephant that was now still sitting in some dusty corner of Harry’s room. A photograph of them in their mother’s arms in the same photo at some friend’s wedding, and then there was that picture of little Louis holding the bridal bouquet ever so proudly.

Then there were those posed photographs. Photographs of them both together on their first day of school, dressed smartly and neatly in perfectly ironed school uniforms, huge happy grins plastered on for the camera.  A photograph of them both smiling painfully, with split lips and bruised eyes after Louis had gotten bullied at school and Harry had gotten into them all into a fight trying to defend him. A photograph of both their families out at dinner together, and the two of them were goofing around and posing with all the different fruits on the table.

There were so many pictures, multiple shots of the same scene from different angles, different days, and different situations. Smiling, sulking, hiding from the camera, caught off guard. In the rain, shine, soaking wet from the rain, in the sun, creeping around in the dark.

In short, it was safe to say Louis and Harry had pretty much done everything together their entire short lives.

It even came to the point when family friends they hadn’t seen in a while or new neighbours mistook them for siblings. They were always at one another’s houses, or running around together in the park, just messing around with their toy cars and Lego blocks anywhere and everywhere. 

“I didn’t know you had two sons!” The family friends would exclaim when they came to visit and found Louis and Harry sprawled on the sofa watching TV at one of their houses, or building a castle out of Lego blocks and sending little Lego people through the imaginary gates.

“Where’s your mother?” The new neighbours would ask, stopping them as they chased each other down the streets or through the park with their toy trucks in hand. Harry would look at Louis, and Louis would look at Harry, and they would chorus, “Whose mother?” The new neighbour would then come to the conclusion that perhaps they were step-siblings, of the same father but different mother.

“Well, no, where’s your father, I mean?” That was the next question they would ask, and both boys would look at one another and laugh, because the neighbour couldn’t seem to make their mind up about whether they were looking for the mother or the father.

“You mean mine or Harry’s?” Louis would reply, and then realisation would dawn on the poor neighbour. “Are you two not siblings?” They would ask, and both boys would shake their heads while the neighbour heaved a sigh of relief at having avoided a potentially awkward situation.