World Cup [larry stylinson a.u.]

37.0

THE BEAUTY

“Harry,” he calls me but I don’t turn to look into his direction. To see him cry can only make me feel worse right now. “Harry, come on, look at me,” he insists.

“I can’t,” I mumble.

“Stop being such a kid,” he tells me and then he grabs my face with both of his hands to make me look at him, “Looks like you can look at me after all.”

“Why aren’t you yelling at me?”

“Okay,” he sighs and I think he is about to laugh. Stupid me thinking he cared about me. “First of all, you are drunk,” he sits next to me, “Second,” he sighs, “First tell me how it was.”

“How what was?” I frown.

“The supposedly cheating,” he says, “Look at your face, Harry, you are mess. Wipe the tears away. I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

“It’s because I’m sad,” I answer, “Let me be.”

“It’s because you are drunk,” he laughs.

“Are you laughing after what I just told you?”

“Well, it is kind of funny if you think about it. I mean, you are the worst cheater ever.”

“Is this a dream or something? Why are you so awesome? You should be mad,” I’m seriously confused, “Or is it just that you don’t care about me?”

“Hey,” he snaps his fingers, “This doesn’t mean that you can go around life cheating on me all the time. But wait, I need you to tell me what happened.”

“Do you want me to tell you just so you can get mad and leave me here?”

“No, I would just like to know the details,” he sighs again, “Was it with Niall?”

“No! Ew!” I snap, “I mean not ‘Ew’ because you know, the hottie is not under the ‘Ew’ category at all but-”

“Just drop it,” he gives me a serious look.

“It wasn’t with Niall. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Good, I’m feeling better now. That would have been very bad, bubu.”

"Don't call me bubu. I don't deserve it."

“You are my bubu even when you are bad,” he smiles, “I might not like you so much right now but I still like you a little bit.”

“You are crazy about me,” I push him.

“Look at you, joking and everything,” he laughs, “Alcohol has funny ways.”

“I need to stop drinking, don’t I?”

“Finally!” he claps, “You will stop drinking.”

“Sounds hard,” I scratch my head, “And boring. I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

“You will,” he assures, “Now tell me. Who were you with?”

“Some guy,” I close my eyes because I’m ashamed, “His name is Ansel. I met him on the street, he said he saw Niall so he helped me look for him.”

“Ansel? That’s a shitty name.”

“I know. I thought the same thing,” I laugh.

“You met him on the street, Harry? What the hell? Tell me you, at least, used a condom,” he raises his voice and now I’m finally starting to see a seed of anger in his words.