World Cup [larry stylinson a.u.]

38.0

THE PANICKING

I wake up to find my left arm completely dead because the bitch sleeping next to me decided it would be fun to smash it with his body. He is supposed to be small so I don’t get this. I’m not sure if I’m allowed to call him a bitch or not, now that we are… now that we are… Wait, I’m starting to feel dizzy.

I pull my arm out very carefully because I do not want to wake him up. I need some alone time during mornings and I think I should let him know as soon as possible. Oh, shit. What if he gets really loud during mornings? I’m not sure I thought this through but wait, I need to chill. It’s all good, Harry, just relax. Nothing has changed. Well, except for the fact that you have a boyfriend now. HOLY CRAP! I have a boyfriend.

I jump out of bed to run to the bathroom. I look at my reflection on the mirror, “Harry Styles,” I say as I point my finger at myself, “You have a boyfriend.” WHAT THE HELL HAVE I DONE?

I breathe in and out a few times because it kind of feels like I’m panicking. “Just relax, nothing has changed,” I mumble to myself. “I mean, look at you,” I nod at the mirror, “I’m still hot and beautiful. My hair looks better than ever, something about the weather in Brazil I guess, I don’t know,” I sigh, “Nothing has changed. I’m still the same gorgeous man.”

But there are a few differences though. First, I haven’t had sex in like forever, which is not me at all and I’m afraid my buddy down there is suffering. Wait, could this be dangerous? What if it gets ruined or something? I need to Google it as soon as I can.

Okay, I’m starting to feel better because there are no huge differences actually. Just that Louis is my boyfriend now. Is that a smirk I see on my face? I get closer to the mirror. It is definitely a smirk but why am I smirking? Am I happy or something? God, I’m lame. Louis is my boyfriend. There, another smirk.

“Louis is my boyfriend,” I say out loud. Okay, this is starting to become stupid. “Harry, Louis is your boyfriend,” I tell myself. Damn, is it just me or I’m prettier now that I have a boyfriend? I probably am. I love how after all this years, my looks keep surprising me. I just can’t seem to stop the beautifulness. I’m like a good ass wine: the older, the better. I’m not old though, shut up.

“Louis Something is my boyfriend,” I repeat and I swear, this is the last time. Oh my God, I don’t even know his last name. Just kidding, I just like to overreact and second guess myself all the time. I know his last name is Tomlinson, I know his middle name is William. I know, even though he never told me, that his birthday is the day before baby Jesus was born. Stalker alert.

“Aw,” I say out loud. “What the hell?” I slap my mouth with my hand. It’s actually happening. I’m Gayer than Gayness now and it’s all because I hang out with him too much. The fucking tourist turned me into a pink butterfly.

“Whatever,” I shrug. I’m done being in a relationship. It’s been fun and all but I miss being single. I have plenty reasons to be proud of, 7 hours is long enough for a first time. I’ll just get out there and I’ll break up with him. He’ll cry and beg me to take him back and everything but I need to remain strong. My masculinity is something I really appreciate and being with Bum puts it in jeopardy.

“Aw,” I say again, “Bum,” I swear I overdid myself with that nickname. Hell no! I’m not going to let this happen. I can’t go around life Awing all the time, that’s what Louis, my boyfriend, does. There, another smirk.“Man up, Styles!” I yell at myself. Man up and go out there to break up with him.

“Hey, Louis, listen. It’s been fun and all but I think,” I say when I leave the bathroom. I lift my face to see him still asleep. I feel something on my chest and, even if I don’t see it, I know the smirk is there.