tongueincheekywrites-blog

[tongueincheekywrites-blog]

maybe one day the sun will shine again

Niall Horan fell in love with a girl named Annabelle. He got to call her Annie. Only very special people get to call her Annie. But now, as he sits on his bed alone in the dark, he reminisces in his past adventures with her. And remembers that now, he has to call her Annabelle again. 

Her name was Annabelle.

Niall remembers everything about her like he remembers warm ups on the piano.

She was blonde, radiant, bold, and beautiful.

Oh god was she beautiful.

Niall remembers the day his eyes first bestowed on her beauty.

---

Hyde Park. London. 12:33pm.

There she was, her white puffy skirt flowing as she twirled around in the grass, a smile of pure glee present on her face. No one around her, no one who could have caused that smile.

She was simply alone. And simply happy just from the sun shining, the birds chirping, and feeling the earth move under her feet.

And to Niall, that was infectious.

It was as if she was the sun.

With her radiant blonde hair, the shiny glow of her arms, and that smile...

It’s her smile, Niall thinks, that captivated him most of all.

It just screamed the pure essence of being happy without a care.

Maybe Niall could help bring that smile out in her more.

So he tried.

“Excuse me?”

Or he was going to. Before she got his attention first.

He turned. “Yes, miss?”

She giggled. And he tried to soothe the butterflies in his stomach, biting his lip.

“Why were you staring at me?”

Oh boy, he’s caught now. What’s he suppose to say? He barely knows the girl, how’s he supposed to not sound like a total creep, when all he’s thinking is oh you see, I was staring at you because well... I literally think you were born from the angels, with actually rays of sunshine in your soul. That’s why I was staring.

It is a better line than what a fuckboy might say on Tinder, but still! He can’t say that!

So he settled on something basic.

“Oh. Just thought you were pretty. Sorry.”

She huffed a laugh. “That’s boring.”

“Boring?”

He’s boring, for calling her pretty? Was it too typical? Should he have really gone with his poetic statement of her being equivalent to sunshine.

“How so?”

“Anyone can call me pretty. So that’s boring.”

She’s strong with her words, and just flat out speaks her mind. And he loved that. Loved that she had no filter. Didn’t feel like she needed one. Had that total ‘take me or leave me’ attitude. It was admirable.

“Well... I was going to compare you to being like the sun. But that’s kinda lame,” he laughed nervously.

“Comparing me to the sun because of my blonde hair is pretty basic.”

“That’s not why,” he immediately butts in.

“Oh?”

She’s curious now.

“It’s your smile. It glows. You smile just for yourself, just because you’re happy, and content just living. And to me, that’s beautiful.”

Hearing his words, she smiles so big. Like a thousand angels just came soaring in.

And Niall feels like he just won the fucking lottery.

She extends a hand for a shake. “That’s cheesy, but I like cheesy. I’m Annabelle. If you get lucky enough, maybe I’ll let you call me Annie.”

He laughs, not being able to get enough of her adorably confident attitude. “Alright, Miss Annabelle. I’m Niall.”

Shaking hands, he immediately notices how soft and velvety her skin is. Pretty sunshine smile, soft skin, boy Niall isn’t sure how much more he could take. His heart was practically beating out of his chest, and he could hear everything thump of it in his ears.

“You’re not from here are you?”

Niall blinked at her question, but then her realized something. Something odd, but oddly made him so, so happy.

She doesn’t know who he is.

There’s no expectations of him. He can just be him. He can finally try to be as free as she appears to be.

“Nope, I’m from Ireland.”

“Huh...” she trails on. What made you come to London?”

“For work.”

“Work?”

He’s nervous now. Maybe finding out what he does will suddenly spark a connection. But he can’t lie to her. Starting even a friendship, let alone a potential relationship, off with lying always ends in flames.

“I’m a singer.”

“Neat! You’ll have to sing for me sometime!” She winks.

And that was that. Maybe she did know who he was, and was just ignoring it or didn’t care. Or maybe she flat out just didn’t know.

Either way, he was excited.

Excited to finally see what it was like to be free like her.

And see what gets that smile across her face to really shine.

---

Four months later... Niall doesn’t want to say he’s in love.

But he’s pretty sure he is.

Niall doesn’t think he’s ever felt so goddamn happy in his life. Annabelle, well, now he gets to call her Annie.

So, Annie...

Oh Annie was something else.

If he didn’t know any better, he would have sworn she was actually sent from heaven, and is here to bless the earth with just her smile alone.

Annie is a ballet dancer. Wanted to be ever since she saw The Nutcracker at age 3, so her paps--what she calls her dad--enrolled her right away, as a single father wanting to do whatever possible to make his little girl's dreams come true. Annie doesn’t have a mother. She was adopted from Belgium. She has a dual citizenship, and Niall thinks that’s pretty neat. Her favorite music is classical and jazz, so Niall ends up figuring out that’s probably why she had no idea who he was when they first met. But on their second date, she did end up admitting to googling him, which terrified him, until she said I like “Fool’s Gold” a lot! Very soft and sweet. And oh man, that made him so happy. Not just the fact she liked his favorite One Direction song, but the fact that she couldn’t give a damn if she was dating A-List celebrity Niall Horan, she liked the person, not the identity.

She was pretty damn perfect.

It was 6pm, and a knock was heard at Niall’s apartment door. He knew it would be Annie, knowing her rehearsals on Wednesday usually end at 6pm, but he couldn’t help but play with her a little bit.

“I’m not looking for any groupies, but thank you for stopping by. I appreciate you being a fan!” he says through the door, laughing a bit as she plays along too.

“Oh heavens! Niall James Horan just rejected me! How am I supposed to go on?! All I wanted to was tour with him in lingerie, and feed him chocolate covered strawberries. Just wait until TMZ hears about this!”

With that, he opens the door, looking down at her (she was a bit on the shorter side height wise) and plants a little, sweet kiss onto her forehead.

“Don’t need groupies when I got my little ray of sunshine right here.”

And there’s that smile once again, the smile Niall thinks he’ll never get sick off.

She steps inside, immediately throwing off her shoes and throwing herself onto the couch with a huff.

“Long day, love?” he sits on the cushion by her feet, lifting her legs and placing them over his lap as he sits.

“The longest. So. Many. Twirls. I think I’ll need to just cut off my toes for all the pain and blisters to go away.”

“Can’t be that bad. Here, let me see.”

He takes off her socks, revealing swollen, bruised, and blistered feet.

And okay...

It was that bad.

“Oh Annie...” he begins to rub her feet lovingly. Just the way she likes. “Maybe we should see a doctor, yeah?”

“No, no, no.” She immediately shakes her head. “They’re going to look at my feet and say ‘no more ballet’, which isn’t ever going to happen. I will dance until I’m old and grey, I promise you that.”

“Alright, alright,” he laughs, admiring how much love she has for what she does. But if it gets unbearable, you have to tell me, so we can go to the doctor, promise?”

She extends her pinky for him to take. “Pinky swear!”

He locks their pinkies, neither pulling away even after the official shake was made.

“What’s for dinner?” she asks.

“A very fine cuisine tonight. I call it ramen,” he replies, smiling as she giggles at his humor. He begins standing up to get everything for the meal together, before he is pulled by his pinky to the pained feet girl, who’s now pouting at him.

“What is it, Petal?”

He’s smirking. He knows what. But just loves seeing her get all flustered.

“You know what, Horan.”

“Not sure I do, Petal.”

The red in her cheeks gets even deeper. Not only because she’s flustered, but because he’s using that petname. Petal.

He remembers the first time he called her ‘Petal’, and how she swooned over it, stuttering a bit,  and unable to stand completely still.

So using it constantly, especially when teasing her, was pretty fun, he’ll admit.

“Niiiaaaalllll.... Stoooooop,” she urges, hiding her face in her hands, embarrassed. He laughs, putting his fingers through her hair comfortingly.

“Oh come on, Petal, don’t hide that pretty face from me. You gotta tell me what you want, otherwise how am I supposed to know?”

She puts her hands down and in her lap with a huff. “Kisses Niall! I want kisses!” she practically screams jokingly at him.

And with that, he ends the teasing and connects their lips together. She quickly puts her hands on the sides of his face, pulling him in even closer if possible. After a few long moments of their lips meshing together, he pulls away, the both smiling at one another.

“All you have to do is ask,” he says sweetly, before peppering her forehead, cheeks, and face in tiny little kisses.

She giggles loudly. “Okay! Okay! Go make food, I’m hungry.”

He stands straight up, bowing in front of her.

“Yes, your majesty.”

---

Five months later. 3:15am. Niall’s apartment.

Niall couldn’t sleep. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to sleep again.

Because she’s gone.

Annie... well, he can’t call her that anymore.

Annabelle...

Annabelle was gone.

---

It was a week ago.

She came home around midnight. Storming into Niall’s apartment, angry and teary eyed.

There was a recital. For Swan Lake. The production Annabelle’s wanted to be in since she was six. And she got the role, and he remembers her three months before, coming home and running into his arms, screaming how she got it and she was going to be Odette/Odile. And he was so proud, so proud of her glowing self and how thrilled she was at her own accomplishment.

And he promised to go.

It was on his calendar.

She reminded him everyday.

But he didn’t show up.

The one recital. The one show she had, of her proudest showcase yet, and he didn’t even bother to come see it.

So here she was, standing before him, angered and on the verge of tears.

He couldn’t blame her. He really couldn’t.

“You didn’t show up...” she says, the sparkly swan queen makeup being smeared as tears began to fall down her cheeks.

“I know, Petal, I know. But please let me explain and-”

“There was a seat all set front row for you. I had security out front waiting, in case things with fans got hectic. I kept waiting and waiting, kept making excuses in my head, like maybe you were running late because you ran into people who wanted a chat and a picture, or maybe traffic just sucked, but... you never came. At all.”

She was full on crying now, sitting on the couch, the same couch where he’d pepper her with kisses and make pinky promises with her.

She was now sitting on it.

Crying.

Because he broke a pinky promise.

A big pinky promise.

He slowly sits next to her, wanting to give her every right to be upset and let it out. He hesitates, before putting a hand on her back, rubbing it in slow, soothing circles. She may really not like him right now, but he knows it’s touch that soothed her when she’s upset.

After a few moments, he speaks up.

“I was on my way to show up. But before I could even leave to go, management was at my door.”

“W-What?”

She looks over to him, her face puffy and tear-stained.

“Yeah... even got you flowers,” he gestures to the pink roses on the table, all wrapped up in a gold bow. “Was going to give them to you after the show, and say my petal really bloomed today.

He lightly chuckles at his own remark, and she can’t help but chuckle too as tears continued to fall.

“But then...” he continues. “There was a knock on my door, and before I knew it management is telling me to stay home. I tried to argue and fight with them over it, but they weren’t bugging. Even blocked your number from my cell service so I wouldn’t call you, and try to secretly get there.”

“What the hell?” she’s stunned to say the least. How did they even find out about her? They’ve kept it very lowkey. Occasionally, there would be press about it, but very minimal. Why was it such a big deal anyway? Why couldn’t he go to one recital to support his girl?

“I don’t even know. But it gets worse.”

“It gets worse?”

He sighs. “They told me, publicly, I can’t keep dating you. But only publically. Privately I can do whatever I want, but publically, they’re making me date Lily Collins now.”

“I-I don’t... understand. Why can’t you publically date me? Why are they blocking us from each other? What’s wrong with me?” She’s crying again, and god does he really hate this.

“Petal, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. Never was, and never will be. They’re idiots. Always making us boys do the stupidest shit to try and boost our image. Don’t let Harry and Louis come out, wouldn’t let Zayn dye his hair when he was still in the band, and now they’re making me date Lily in the public. Wanting to try and keep us relevant.”

She rubs her hands over her face, smearing her makeup even more in the process.

There’s silence for a while as Annabelle processed this, taking it all in, and then, what she says next is the last thing Niall wanted to hear.

“I think we need to be over then.”

“What?” his eyes widen, because no, no, no. That’s not what he wanted. No, not at all.

“That’s too mentally exhausting for me, Niall. And talk about painful. I can’t watch you date a girl out on the streets, and then come home to me, while I stay in hiding as your secret girlfriend. It’d be too painful for me. I don’t want to go through that,” she looks at him with sadness, it’s not something she wants either.

Neither want it, but as it all processes, it’s decided it’s probably for the best.

“Okay. If that’s what you want.”

And that was that.

---

And now he can’t sleep.

Because his mind won’t turn off.

Won’t turn off all the thoughts and memories of her.

How she scrunches her nose when she shakes her head, how she loves writing poetry in art galleries, how she somehow manages to read dozens of books while dancing at rehearsals, how her brown eyes glimmered at him with the deepest kind of love the first time she saw him perform, how she just loves kisses, and being called Petal, and making pinky promises, and how her laugh fills a room with joy more than the best song in the world can.

And her smile.

Her sunshine smile.

How every time she showed that smile around him, he swore he could feel warmth actually radiating off of it and onto him. How no matter how shitty the day was, that smile would bring him back to a place of calm and simplicity.

How her smile was just quite literally sunshine.

How she, quite literally, was sunshine.

So he stands from his bed, rubbing his eyes, and walking over to get his guitar and sitting back down again.

He’s gotta get this out.

Just so he can sleep.

So, he began singing.

The other night dear, as I lay sleeping

I dreamed I held you in my arms

But when I awoke, dear, I was mistaken

So I hung my head and I cried

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy when skies are gray

You'll never know dear, how much I love you

Please don't take my sunshine away

In all my dreams, dear, you seem to leave me

When I awake my poor heart pains

So when you come back and make me happy

I'll forgive you dear, I'll take all the blame

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy when skies are gray

You'll never know dear, how much I love you

Please don't take my sunshine away

And as he finishes the final note, tears streaming down his face, he thinks to himself.

Maybe...

Just maybe...

My sunshine will come back.

And love me again.

---

AN: sorry if the past tense/present tense changed too many times! I wrote this at 5AM and was very tired, but had to get this story out while the ideas were flowing! So yeah.... okay see ya! xx

[tongueincheekywrites-blog]

the perfect little girl

Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson are ready to have their second child together. So, they enlisted a woman named Emilia to become their surrogate mother, and the baby girl is now on the way. They just didn’t expect that today, she would be actually on the way.

The day starts out like any other.

Louis and Harry wake up to the sound of Freddie’s loud babbling, at an early morning time they wouldn’t necessarily prefer. But they have Freddie, so it’s all worth it.

And soon, Freddie won’t be the only babbling that will wake them up at sunrise.

They just weren’t expecting soon to be today.

As Louis is entering Freddie’s room to release him from his crib, Harry receives a call from Emilia.

Emilia, their surrogate mother.

He expects the call to be just like any other. The baby wasn’t due for another two weeks.

But in the end, babies make the decision on when to be born. Not doctors.

“Hey, Emilia! How are you-”

“Harry, it’s happening.”

He blinks, confused for only a brief moment, until realization hits him like a bullet, and his mouth and eyes go wide.

“The baby?”

“Yep. She’s coming. Can you and Lou meet me at the hospital?”

“Yes, yes, of course. We’ll be right there. Don’t worry, okay? We’re on our way.”

“Okay, please, hurry.”

And with that, Harry ends the call, and rushes to Freddie’s room to find their son playing with Louis on the bedroom floor. Before Harry even has a chance to fond over the situation, Louis reads his expression clearly that something is happening.  

“Harry what’s going on-”

And Harry can’t help but smile with his words.

“We have to go to the hospital. Darcy is on the way.”

---

The car ride to the hospital seems long and silent.

Or maybe, that’s just because everyone’s minds in the car are swarming in an odd combination of excitement and fear.

Except Freddie, who is simply just sitting in his carseat, being fascinated by his feet. Having no idea he’s about to be a big brother.

As Louis continues to drive down the rainy London streets, Harry can’t help but notice the shaking in Louis’s fingers and the trembling in his lip. He can’t really blame him though, Harry feels like he’s about to both scream in joy and throw up in panic.

But he decides at least one of them has to be the strong one.

“Louis... it’ll be alright,” Harry smiles sweetly, ignoring the swirl of emotions in the pit of his stomach as he places a comforting hand on Louis’s thigh.

“I know, I know.” Louis lets out a shaky breath. “It’s just... scary, yknow?”

“Well if it makes you feel better, you’ve already done this once, whereas this will be my first time becoming a new parent.”

“Harry, just because you weren’t at Freddie’s birth, doesn’t make you any less of his dad. Freddie has two parents--two dads. Harry and Louis Tomlinson,” Louis urges his husband sweetly. Harry is always a bit insecure about it. He’s not really sure why, but ever since Louis and him got full custody of Freddie, he’s always worried Freddie won’t see him has his dad.

“I know, you’re right,” Harry smiles. “But still. This is much more new to me than it is to you.”

“Doesn’t make it any less scary,” Louis smiles back, glancing over at Freddie in the rear-view mirror. Seeing the oblivious little blonde baby boy smiling up as soon as his daddy makes eye contact with him.

Harry immediately notices. Freddie loves Louis so much. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen the boy upset around him.

“Freddie, you ready to be the best big brother ever?” Louis asks cheerfully to his son, who merely replies in loud squeals. And okay, Freddie probably doesn’t understand what the heck he’s saying, but just hearing his daddy’s voice made him so excited, and Harry can’t help but melt at that.

“We can do this... right?” Harry asks, nerves piling up as their car approaches the large Royal London Hospital sign.

“Of course we can, sweetheart. We’ve made it this far with everything else in life,” Louis says comfortingly as they pull up to a free parking space.

And with the sound of the vehicle being put to a stop, the two sigh, ready as they can be for whatever is about to happen.

“Well... let’s go have our baby girl.”

---

“There he is! My favorite little British-American!” Bebe grins, running up to Freddie as the little guy trots over to the familiar platinum blonde beauty, instantly falling into a deep state of giddy as Bebe picks him up, twirling him around in her arms.

Harry and Louis needed someone to watch Freddie in the waiting room while the labor and delivery process happened. Since Bebe was already in the UK for some promo, they figured what better person than her. Freddie already absolutely adored her, so it’s perfect.

“Thanks again for this, love. Seriously. We owe you one,” Louis grins, giving a friendly hug to Bebe as Harry checks in to the hospital.

“Oh absolutely not! It’s about time you two had one of your own,” Bebe winks, bouncing little Freddie on her hip. Louis hands Bebe the bag of Freddie’s things, taking a shaky breath.

“Alright, everything he’ll need should be in there. If for some reason he gets upset, you can call me, but he loves you so I’m sure that won’t happen.”

“Lou, don’t worry. I got it. Now go! Can’t wait to meet the little angel!” Bebe cheers, waving Louis off.

“Yeah...” he murmurs, walking off. “Me either.”

---

The process is long and gruesome.

Twelve hours of labor, and forty five minutes of pushing later...

She is here.

Darcy Johannah Tomlinson.

First name simply because Harry always wanted a little girl named Darcy.

Middle name a dedication to Louis’s late mother.

Born 15th of October, 2017, at the godly hour of 2:05am.

7 lbs 7 oz and 19 inches of love, light, and beauty.

It’s been a couple hours since her birth.

Harry is holding her in his chest, tears still falling down his face as the smile of pure bliss never once leaves his face. He just can’t seem to grasp how with his help, he could make something so perfect.

---

Louis is walking down to the waiting room, the same teary eyes and pure bliss smile as his husband, as he approaches his son, ready for him to meet his beautiful new little sister.

Bebe looks up from her simple playing with Freddie, running over to her best friend with Freddie gripping her fingers to hold her hand, as the two run over to the elated Louis.

“Is she here?!”

“Yep... she’s here.” Louis can’t help but let out a choked; happy cry. “And absolutely perfect.”

Bebe quickly wraps her free arm around Louis neck, and he reciprocates the hug by squeezing her waist. Once they pull apart, Louis crouches down to Freddie’s level.

“Hey lad, you ready to meet your little sister?”

---

They make it to the hospital room, where Harry is sitting in the rocking chair as he continues to hold Darcy to his chest, simply so lost in his daughter that he doesn’t hear the door open.

Bebe gives Louis’s back a comforting pat and Freddie a quick kiss to the forehead, before she leaves, going to the separate room Emilia is resting in to check on her.

Louis picks Freddie up, holding him on his hip as he walks over to his husband rocking their daughter back and forth, still so fixated on Darcy that he doesn’t notice anything else around them.

“She really is perfect, isn’t she?” Louis says in a soft; sweet voice, gaining Harry’s attention. The two looking at each other with glossy eyes from happy tears.

“Perfect beyond compare... they both are,” Harry replies, gesturing to both Darcy and Freddie.

Louis walks even closer over with Freddie in his arms, crouching down to the rocking chair’s level, holding up Freddie to look at the baby.

“Look, Freddie... this is Darcy Johannah... your new baby sister.”

And the two parents thought they just couldn’t melt anymore tonight, until Freddie smiles the sweetest smile they think they’ve ever seen, lightly taking his hand and touching Darcy’s soft; pastel pink hat covered head.

And the two break out in happy tears once again.

“Yeah, that’s right, Freddie. She’s your sister. Your little sister you get to love and protect forever and ever,” Harry says as he moves Darcy to face Freddie.

The room is silent for a few long moments. Everyone taking in the treasure that is Darcy Johannah.

But suddenly, the silence stops.

And it’s replaced with delicate singing from Harry.

Isn't she lovely

Isn't she wonderful

Isn't she precious

Less than one minute old

Tears are streaming down both their cheeks now, and Louis can’t help it as he sings the second part with Harry.

I never thought through love we'd be

Making one as lovely as she

But isn't she lovely made from love

“Our lovely girl,” Harry coos. “Welcome to the world, Darcy Johannah.”

---

Six months later...

Darcy has grown a lot since her birth. She’s basically the spitting image of her sperm donor father. Bright green eyes, plump lips, and even has some curly brown locks already growing in.

The one thing her and her other daddy Louis have in common... when they’re upset, all they want is Harry.

Like this morning.

Louis is just trying to be a dear, and let his husband catch a few extra snoozing minutes in bed while he attempts to change Darcy’s nappy, but she is not having it.

Yes, she loves Louis, he always makes her laugh, but when she’s screaming at the top of her lungs for food or a nappy change, Harry’s soothing slow voice is the only thing that calms her down.

“Come on Darcy, love, you gotta at least try to work with me here. I’m trying to be nice to your other daddy by letting him sleep in a bit, don’t you wanna be nice too?”

Clearly not.

For her wailing cries only increase.

And before Louis can attempt again to do anything about it, Harry is already entering Darcy’s nursery.

“Alright angel, shh, your favorite is here,” Harry coos at her in a whisper, making sweet little shushing sounds as he makes his way over to the changing table, where Louis has desperately tried (and failed) to change her nappy.

“Excuse me?!” Louis exclaims a little louder than maybe he should have, for Darcy’s crying increase again in volume.

“Shh, I’m just kidding, Lou.” He gives a quick; sweet kiss to his husband’s lips. “I got this. Go ahead and wake up Freddie, if he isn’t awake already.”

Louis smiles, nodding, and as he’s about to turn out of the room, he can’t help stop in his tracks, and swoon over the new sight in front of him.

Darcy’s stopped crying, completely, and Harry is pretty much talking to her, their six month old, as if she’s a full grown adult as he changes her nappy.

“Well, good morning to you. I’ve heard you were quite the screamer this morning, hm? What’s got you so upset? Let’s see... oh my! You’ve made quite a mess of this nappy. Now I understand. Let’s get this fixed up for you, alright? There we go, all better see! So, the weather is going to be a bit breezy today, so I would suggest some pants and a sweater to wear, what do you think? And for breakfast, maybe the applesauce? Sound good?”

Every child has that one parent they’re a bit closer with. It doesn’t mean they love that parent more than the other, but every child has a special bond with one particular parent. And for Darcy, that was Harry.

And Louis is okay with that. Because that’s him and Freddie.

Since Freddie was born, he’s always had a special bond with Louis. One always doing something to make the other laugh. And when one is upset, they can count on the other for cheering them up with a silly face or even just a smile.

Freddie also loves and is absolutely fascinated with Darcy. Always running up to see her, whether she was happy or sad. Always bringing her toys to play with, and giving her cuddles and kisses as often as he can.

And to Harry and Louis, it’s so perfect.

Freddie and Darcy.

Their two perfect babies.

And they don’t think they’ll ever seem to grasp how in the world they got so lucky...

With first each other...

And then two mini versions of themselves.

With this new perfect little girl as an addition to their family...

It’s all simply perfect.

[tongueincheekywrites-blog]

mentally antsy

Harry Styles is currently at the LAX airport, ready to perform yet another fake girlfriend publicity stunt for all to see, in order to hide his secret homosexuality and secret lover, fellow One Direction bandmate Louis Tomlinson. As he walks side by side with yet another blonde; over 5′ 9″ supermodel as cameras flash and people scream his name, he can’t help but start to think mentally, this is taking a toll on him, and he’s headed straight for insanity.

Harry was antsy.

It seems like for seven years, he’s been one constant mood--antsy.

It’s not the kind of antsy where you’ve been sitting in a bus seat for hours and are desperate to move your legs.

This was a mental kind of antsy.

Antsy to run, jump, and scream internally his feelings.

To expose the truth. To get it all out there.

For mentally keeping something so deep in for so long, after seven not so straight years, really starts mentally fucking you up.

So here he is, in a crowded airport, mentally antsy once again.

There’s a lot of background noise. Chatter over chatter, quick footsteps, the clicks of what he assumes to be cameras. He’s not sure if it’s all directed toward him, but since he’s feeling especially mentally antsy today, he can only assume.

He’s standing still against a wall in a small corner of the big room. A big room that he feels could probably swallow him in swarms of exposure, if he brought too much attention to himself.

And for this specific situation, he really doesn’t want to do that.

So he simply distances himself, biting his lip, just waiting. Shutting his eyes for just a moment to try and escape being mentally ansty for even a moment, but unfortunately he is unable, because shortly after he is interrupted by a pinging sound from his phone.

NEW MESSAGE

Camille Rowe:

I’m at the entrance.

And now, the curtain for his performance must rise; his charade; going on seven seasons. Each season a different woman cast as the leading lady, but they always seem to keep him as the leading man.

They being the directors of the production. Calling the shots.

Making sure everything stayed neat and presentable.

For they really knew what the audience wanted... right?

Because it’s the audience that matters.

Not the actors.

Right?

Harry took a breath. It was the moments like these that really made his mentally antsy mind pick up. Right before it all took place. Because if he really, really wanted to, he could go back on it all. Break the rule, ignore the signature he made seven years ago, and just finally live freely for once.

Without being mentally antsy.

Imagine that he thinks to himself, a day where I’m just content... a day where I’m no longer mentally ansty... because I cured the feeling with a scream of the truth.

He makes his way toward the entrance, but still staying a bit out of sight. There’s no reason to really be seen before his stage time anyway.

As he gets closer, he spots the familiar blonde, with her blonde locks a mess, and an oversized jumper practically swallowing her thin and lean body. Truthfully, she looks exhausted. He wonders if she’s as mentally exhausted with all of this as he is.

Harry walks over to her, finally making his presence known. He doesn’t bother to smile or even show a look of being pleased.

Looking satisfied isn’t in the contract.

So he must not be required to do that.

He’s standing directly in front of her now, and in the distance he can hear the chatter increasing even more, the sound of motion becoming rapid and more towards where the two of them are standing. He stares into her eyes for what was intended to be a brief moment, but the moment goes on for a bit longer than planned.

Camille’s eyes are blue. A familiar eye color to him.

The eye color that feels like home.

But this isn’t home.

So he turns away, and turns to the flashing lights straight ahead and begins to walk alongside her.

Although the room is loud with shouts of their names and the clicking of cameras, it feels dead silent. Similar to the feeling of being underwater. Everything’s happening at the surface, but he’s trapped by himself under it all.

He wonders, if he really tried, if he could just drown himself.

Drown himself out of this. Forever.

Maybe Camille notices his mentally antsy behavior coming clear onto his face, because she quickly hands him her purse. Perhaps she figured he could use something to fidget with, to maybe distract or calm him.

He takes the strap of the bag in both hands, and begins tracing the brown leather with his fingertips.

It reminds him of something else brown and leather. His journal.

His journal where he wrote many of his thoughts.

His thoughts of how he was happy from a day spent home, being peppered with kisses and cuddles from a small, scruffy boy. He’d write how even after seven years his heart would still flutter and his grin would hurt from how much love he has for him.

How much love he has for Louis.

Louis Tomlinson.

But he isn’t allowed to say that name.

And he isn’t allowed to sit next to him.

Or go to the same place as him.

Or talk to him.

Or look at him.

Or hold his hand.

Or hug him.

Or kiss him.

Or say he loves him.

Because that’s not what this production was about.

In this show, he’s the leading man, and he has to save all off that love he feels for the currently cast leading lady.

Even if it’s only always for another leading man in his life.

Taylor, Nadine, Kendall, Abigail, Emma, and now Camille.

The leading lady is constantly changing, because the directors constantly feel there must be a “change in direction”.

But no matter how many different leading ladies Harry has had star with him, the second leading man in Harry’s production has never changed.

But that is Harry’s production, and showing that production is banned in this theater of public.

At least, that’s what the contract says.

And that’s what truly makes Harry mentally antsy.

He has an image. Well, his role does. His big, dreamy, stardom, womanizing, and overexposed image is his role to play in the world. Stealing and captivating the hearts of millions among millions of audience members. They paid to see him play this role, so he has to play it, and play it well.

But everyday, for seven years, ever since he was cast in this ridiculous attempt of a convincing production, it’s been eating him alive.

He’s mentally antsy.

Mentally antsy to expose the truth.

He’s done little things to try and spread the message. Tattoos, lyrics, being in certain places at certain times... much like the other boy in his life has does these things.

But that other boy isn’t in this production. Not in the cast, the crew; nowhere to be found.

This is Harry’s production. But not his true production.

He has zero control in his public role.

He wants control. He needs control.

But instead here he continues, another day.

Flashing cameras, the sounds of loud screams and chatter around him, another supermodel playing the “leading lady” at his side.

Here he is, once again...

Mentally antsy.

[tongueincheekywrites-blog]

make kiwi the next single

Harry Styles since day one has wanted “Kiwi” as the next single off his debut album. After a record label meeting to try and make that happen doesn’t go too well, Harry walks back to his car to find his dear boyfriend Louis Tomlinson in their car, jamming out to the same song rejected to be a single, which leads to an interesting topic of conversation on the ride home. 

“The song is very... out there.”

Harry is sitting in an office room with an executive from Columbia Records. He came here with a mission--to make “Kiwi” the next single. It’s a song he’s so passionate about, and so damn proud of. It has all of that rock and roll essence Harry’s wanted his songs to have since being a 16-year-old boy auditioning in front of the biggest name in music. That same name, Simon Cowell, put him into a poppy, puppy love type of music boy band which became smashing and successful. And don’t get him wrong, Harry loves that type of music and all that he’s created with One Direction. But that wasn’t completely him. This song, however, was. And frankly, he didn’t really understand why there was so much debate on it being the next single.

“I see,” Harry says calmly. He won’t be upset if it’s a for sure no. The album's very successful, and he’s finally gotten to put himself into his music. If he doesn’t get to have “Kiwi” as the single, then no big deal. He’ll just promote it and belt it out for all to hear in concert, even if he really does want that radio exposure of a song he’s so proud of.

“It’s a fantastic song Mr. Styles, really it’s mind blowing,” the executive nervously says, not wanting to upset the pop star in front of him. Harry’s a very humble, calm, and understanding guy, but these days you just never know what’s a facade and what not.

“But...” Harry says with a light chuckle, urging the man to continue on.

“But... it’s not really what’s current with today. It’s very much a rock anthem. Although rock will always be legendary, and you’ve certainly proven that with bringing it back in a modern day way, a total rock song like that might not do as well with today’s top hits.”

Harry can’t help but frown a bit at the man’s words. Why should that matter? If it’s a good song, despite the genre, people will listen to it. Today’s top hits are all over the place. You have rap, pop, country, dance, so why can’t his full on rock and roll song squeeze it’s way in there?

“I guess I’m sort of confused,” Harry trails on. “I mean, what makes “Sign of the Times” and “Two Ghosts” so different that they get to be singles? Is it because they’re slower?”

“Sort of,” the man continues. “They sound more pop-like and fit more with what is current today. I don’t necessarily think that it’s because they’re slower. Moreso they’re not so out there with being a specific genre like rock.”

“So... is it a no for now?” Harry asks, bluntly but with kindness in his voice.

“Unfortunately, Mr. Styles, for now it’s just not the best choice for a single.”

Harry sighs. It’s alright, truly. He’ll just be sure to make a show of it come tour time.

“Okay. Thank you for you time,” Harry stands up, a sincere smile on his face, extending his hand for the executive to shake.

“My apologies once again, Mr. Styles. Hopefully sometime in the future it can happen. But for now...” The executive main trails on, shaking Harry’s hand and just simply trying to say anything to make the lad feel better.

“No, please don’t apologize. No hard feelings at all. I get it. Just not the right time,” He smiles once again, brushing off his jacket before walking toward the door. Before he exists, he gives the man a sweet look one last time before saying, “Also, please, call me Harry. We’re all working together, right? No need to be so formal.”

The man smiles, a light laugh escaping him before waving at Harry as he walks out.

---

Here Louis is, in the car parked outside Columbia Records, his love’s rock ballad “Kiwi” on repeat and blasting through the vehicle. He can’t help but jam along in the driver's seat as he waits for his boyfriend. Louis has no doubt in his mind, this will be the next single. How could it not? It’s legendary.

Louis sees Harry coming near the passenger seat and he grins, turning down the volume a bit on the stereo so they could still make conversation while listening to the tune. Before Harry can even open the door, a big dimpled grin appears on his face, shaking his head as he hears his song, one of his proudest songs, being blasted in his boyfriend’s car as he sings along. He opens the door, sitting down and buckling his seatbelt.

“Louis, I swear, if only the world truly knew how much of a dork you are.”

“Nah, only for you love,” Louis says with a wink, causing Harry to shake his head with a smile once again. “Soooo, tell me! When is the world going to hear this sick song on the radio?!”

Upon hearing his question, Harry’s smile couldn’t help but fall. He sighs.

“They said no. It’s just not the right time.”

“What?! They said no?!” Louis speaks angrily, pausing the song.

“Yeah. Apparently it’s just not fitting with what’s current right now, so they’re afraid it wouldn’t do as well. I guess with my other singles and just my name in general, those fit enough to be singles. But don’t worry, it’s alright. I’m gonna just give a hell of a performance of it on tour. Maybe I’ll do a few encores of it and- Lou what are you doing?” Harry’s suddenly confused, seeing his boyfriend unbuckle his seatbelt and ready to get out of the car.

“I’ll tell you what I’m doing! Going in those shit’s office and demanding to the fucked in the head executive to make “Kiwi” the next single! That’s what I’m doing, this shit’s ridiculous! Doesn’t fit with today’s hits my fucking ass.”

“Woah, woah, hey, Louis, please take a breath,” Harry can’t help but smile a bit, even if he was concerned over his boyfriend’s rage. The fact one of Harry’s problems could make Louis so angry really showed he cared, and it was flattering.

“I’m fine baby, really. It’s no big deal. Things like this happen. I’ll get over it. If anything, it’ll just make “Kiwi” even better on tour.”

“No, you know what, it’s not fine! You love that song, and you worked so hard on it! I remember back in Jamaica, you told me you wanted that to be the song that blows people’s minds. Everyone deserves to hear it!” Louis was angry. How could some record label be so stupid? Honestly. What a bunch of asshats.

“And people will. On tour, and if they buy the album. It’s on streaming services too. Lou, my darling, please,” Harry scoots over in his seat, taking Louis’s face in his hands and placing a gentle kiss to his lips, rubbing his thumbs over his cheeks and holding the kiss for a few long moments before pulling away. “I’m okay, really.”

And okay, Louis couldn’t stay angry anymore. Not when Harry does that shit to him. He just really cares, but Harry really has this effect on him that makes him shut up.

“Fine. But I’m not happy about it.”

Harry can’t help but laugh, “And you don’t have to be. But remember...” he trails on, pulling up his sleeve and putting his arm next to Louis’s so their “Oops!” and “Hi!” tattoos--the first thing they both said to each other the day they met in The X Factor bathrooms--were next to each other.

“Everything happens for a reason.”

“Yeah...” Louis laughs, smiling at the sappiness of what Harry did. “Alright, alright. I’ll calm down. But you can’t stop me from vaguely and angrily tweeting with no context about it.”

Harry laughs, “Go for it, love. Maybe the record label will see it, and see how big and badass my boyfriend is on Twitter and change their minds.”

“Damn right!” Louis says cheekily, sliding over and giving Harry a peck on the cheek before taking his phone, and doing just what he said he would.

First he tweets a middle finger emoji and just that. And of course his fans, the caring little shits he loves that they are, immediately become concerned. He can’t help but smile at their concern. They love him so much, and god does he love them back. He picks a random follower asking what’s wrong, and replies.

@Louis_Tomlinson: just some industry shit pissing me off.

And as he glances over at the boy that’s stolen his heart, he presses play on the stereo again, playing the song once again just to see Harry smile again. And in that moment, he thinks to himself, those idiots... if they only knew.

[tongueincheekywrites-blog]

he could never love somebody’s daughter

Louis Tomlinson is basically James Dean. A successful; young actor, who's glamorized by the world for all to love him. Beyond the picture-perfect image he has been crafted into, Louis is secretly gay and forced into the closet. Not only this, but he is secretly married to his nonfamous, bookstore employee husband Harry Tomlinson. When the movie premiere for his next big blockbuster--"Rebel Without A Cause"--starts making him question the purpose and point of hiding his true self from the world, his thoughts start spinning out of control, leading Louis to make bold decisions that will surely make this movie premiere one to remember.

Missed Calls (28)

Harry Tomlinson

Louis glances at his phone, as it once again lights up with the familiar contact. He can’t help but let a faint smile appear on his lips.

28.

Their anniversary number.

He wonders if that was intentional. Or if Harry really needs him.

But that doesn’t matter.

Not right now.

So he shuts off his phone. Completely.

Realizing he has nothing to distract his swarming mind now, he begins playing with the leather seats of the limo. His eyes shifting all over the wide space of the vehicle.

Too much space for his over piling mind and thoughts, he thinks.

His eyes shift to the girl across from him. Blonde, soft, and with a few plastic adjustments. A total Barbie doll girl, straight from California. Except her name is Briana.

They were heading to Louis’s new movie premiere--”Rebel Without A Cause”. A movie following a young adult who’s lost and just trying to find himself in this obscene thing called life, silence the demons in his mind, and finally just live freely without a fuck to give.

Louis relates a little too much to his character, he thinks.

During shooting, sometimes, he feared he wasn’t truly acting.

Before he can continue to delve into his lost; hopeless mind, a snapping from the living Barbie doll takes him out of the hole of his mind.

He looks up at her angry face while she speaks.

“Hey, Lewis, you need to actually kiss me, and treat me like your fucking girlfriend this time. Or people are really going to start to think you’re gay.”

And with that statement, he can’t help but let out a light chuckle.

Louis’s father was a world class actor, and now he has taken the Tomlinson actor name for himself, upon his father’s retirement.

A lot of people say Louis looks just like his father on the big screen.

But unlike his father...

He could never love somebody’s daughter.

Even if the lad really did like girls, he doubts Briana would be his first choice. Sure, she’s got a lovely outside, even he can see that, but her inside is flat out cold. Briana demands a lot, always telling him what to say and do, asking for money or else she’ll out him, and flat out can’t even bother to pronounce his name right.

Louis likes people who are kind.

Louis loves a boy who treats people with kindness.

And his name is Harry Tomlinson.

---

They met seven years ago. In a bookstore among places.

Harry was working the store, and Louis simply was in need of his service.

He really wasn’t expecting much more beyond that.

“Hello! Welcome to Cheshire Books, can I help you find anything?” The curly haired boy, who he would later find out, ironically, was named Harry, smiles at him with this big dimple grin that Louis thinks he will never be able to get out of his head.

“Y-Yes, actually.” Louis really doesn’t know why he is stuttering, but something about this boy gives him butterflies. But he just shakes it off, sticking to business.

“I’m looking for anything you got on dinosaurs.” Louis is still new to his own acting career. Sure, having his father’s big name helps, but they’re not going to cast him if he’s an idiot and a bad actor.

It is a small role he’s auditioning for. Some dinosaur biologist. The only problem--he knows nothing about dinosaurs. He figures cracking a few books open, and learning some facts could help him win over the casting directors in his audition.

“Fun! I love a good prehistoric read!” Harry cheers, and not even in a joking matter. It’s like he’s actually serious and passionate with what he’s saying.

“Yeah,” Louis laughs lightly. “It’s for an audition. I’m an actor, and for my audition I could use some good dinosaur knowledge.”

“I was going to say! You look a lot like Troy Tomlinson!”

“Well, he is my father.”

Suddenly, Harry blinks. Stopping to where he was leading Louis to the desired section, he turns and faces him, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Oh my gosh sir I-”

“Want an autograph from my dad? No, can’t do that, sorry. We don’t really... get along,” Louis quickly says. He’s use to this. Everyone wanting something from his toxic dad, and nothing from him. If they only knew what his dad was truly like when the cameras were off, and the crowds were gone.

“No, actually... I was just going to apologize.”

“Apologize?” Louis is confused now. Apologize for what? The guy didn’t do anything wrong.

“For not treating you with more respect, obviously! Gosh, I’m so stupid. I should be at your service right now!”

Louis can’t help but laugh at Harry’s panicked state. It’s kinda nice; kinda sweet how much Harry cares about treating him well.

“No, no, please, it’s all good. No worries!” Louis smiles. “You’re doing perfectly fine, very helpful in fact.”

He doesn’t think much of it when he puts a hand on Harry’s shoulder, or when he starts stroking his thumb back and forth on it, feeling the warm skin burning on his hand. And he really doesn’t think much of it when he stares into those big green eyes that just light up, and swoons over the smile that spreads so wide on Harry’s face, that his dimples cave in.

It’s not until he starts speaking his thoughts before thinking them, that he starts thinking much of this situation.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret tho, love, my playboy father might love women, but I certainly don’t.”

And maybe the phrase wouldn’t mean much, if his hand wasn’t still on Harry’s shoulder, stroking it with his thumb.

Or especially, if he hadn’t winked at the boy right after he said that.

But Louis quickly doesn’t seem to care, for it makes the boy in front of him’s face visibly heat up. And from seeing the blushing boy, the glee raises in Louis’s soul, and the butterflies increase in his stomach.

“U-Uhm, u-uh... I’m Harry, by the way!” Harry says, managing a smile even though he’s blushing like a madman. He extends his hand out for a shake.

And Louis really doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, because soon he’s taking Harry’s hand, placing a gentle kiss on the top of it. Much like a prince would do to a lady.

“I know, love. I can read your name tag.”

However, instead of this being a prince and a lady, it was a prince and a lad.

But soon Louis saw Harry as a prince too.

And that’s how it happened.

That’s how Harry Styles became Harry Tomlinson.

On the 28th of September, 2015.

But no one was allowed to know. Ever.

---

When they pull up to the premiere, Louis is feeling good. Great even. This movie is huge, and he’s the star of it. He has a beautiful blonde on his arm, thousands screaming his name, and a big movie check in his bank account.

How could he not be thrilled?

Even if it is a blonde beauty queen on his arm...

And not his brunette curly king.

Louis and Briana pull up onto the red carpet, hands locked, and smiles on their faces. With each step closer to the action, the shouting and bright flashing lights increase.

“Louis! Briana! Over here!”

“Louiiiiis! Right here with the lady, darling!”

“Louis, smile with the misses over here!”

He’s custom to this. It’s simple, just smile and wave. Maybe peck the girl’s cheek a few times.

He’s custom to it, because he’s rehearsed it.

It’s all a big performance.

With the ending message of heterosexuality.

Louis wonders if there’s ever moments in his life where he isn’t acting.

Yeah, he thinks to himself. I don’t have to fake anything with Harry.

Harry.

Harry Tomlinson.

His husband.

The man he loves so much, he gave him his name.

And his promise to love him for life.

Suddenly, his mind is distracted now. And swarming.

Swarming with thoughts of Harry.

“Lewis, baby, the interviewer is talking to you,” Briana says through gritted teeth, trying to continue the fake smile plastered on her face.

Internally now, he is screaming.

Harry calls him ‘baby’.

But no one can know that...

Right?

“O-Oh, right! Thanks, love!” he turns to the interviewer, trying to erase the fact in his mind that he calls his husband ‘love’.

“Sorry ma’am, I spaced out there! Please, ask your question again!” he says sweetly to the woman, who’s holding a microphone in his face.

“No worries, Mr. Tomlinson! What I asked was, are you thinking of popping the question to sweet miss Briana over there soon?”

His eyes widen, and he feels like his soul just left his body.

“W-What?” he manages to ask.

The lady simply laughs. “Oh, you know! Do you think you’ll get down on one knee soon? Ask Ms. Jungwirth to become Mrs. Tomlinson?”

And now his heart feels like it’s dropped out of him too.

He doesn’t know why just one simple and expected question made him feel this way...

But no.

No.

No.

No. No. No. No. No.

No.

There will be no Mrs. Tomlinson.

That position is already filled.

By a mister.

Mr. Tomlinson.

Mr. Harry Edward Tomlinson.

Briana isn’t the one he comes home to every night. It’s Harry.

Briana isn’t the one he comforts from nightmares, rubbing their back in circles and whispering soothing words. It’s Harry.

Briana isn’t the one he dances around like a complete idiot for when they're upset. It’s Harry.

Briana isn’t the one where when they first kissed in the Cheshire Books bathroom, he felt like it was going to be his last first kiss. It’s Harry.

Briana isn’t the one he cuddles on the couch with, watching The Notebook for probably the 40th time, simply because they love it. It’s Harry.

Briana isn’t the one he got down on one knee for, hidden under the eiffel tower on their anniversary trip to Paris, asking to be his and only his forever. It’s Harry.

Harry has the ring. Harry has his heart. Harry is the love of his life.

And Harry is a boy.

But right now, he couldn’t give a single fuck.

He’s sick and tired of this.

He’s done.

Done with the stunts.

Done with dragging Briana around like they’re actually in love.

Done with faking who he is, and done with hiding who he actually loves from the world.

So he responds to her question.

“No I won’t.”

The lady blinks in surprise. “Really? But you two have been together for years! Don’t you love her?”

“No.”

And suddenly, the entire area goes silent. Every interviewer around is eagerly holding up their mics, cameras are locked on him, fans keep their mouths shut as they pull out their phones, ready for whatever is about to happen.

He can see Briana out of the corner of his eye, looking like she was just shot with a bullet. And that only fuels the fire in him more.

“Briana’s never been the one I love. She’s never had my heart.”

“So... is there another? Who does?”

He smiles, and he speaks as if it’s common sense.

“My husband. Harry Tomlinson.”

With that, Briana’s walked back to the limo, and a thousand gasps fill the void of silence.

“Husband? You’re gay?” another interviewer asks in utter shock.

“You betcha,” he winks with a laugh.

“So... Briana... what was the point of her?” a man asks, shoving his microphone closer

“What do you think?”

“We don’t know. Please, elaborate,” yet another interviewer asks.

“Well... let me ask you this... how many gay actors do you know?”

There’s no response. And it makes sense why. How many gay actors does the world really know. Gay actors that still have actor as their job, that is.

But in this moment, Louis could care less if he stayed an actor or not.

Because when he was in Cheshire Books, looking for his dinosaur reads, he cared about much more than expanding his prehistoric knowledge.

He cared about the boy working there.

And so he vowed to be his husband at the alter.

---

It was almost 1:00am.

Louis is finally on his way home, in the back of another limo alone, considering his beard ran off with the other one.

He couldn’t really blame her though. Even if she is mean, a gold digger, and bossy, she still has feelings, and being embarrassed like that and forever labeled as the guy’s beard might not be the reputation she planned for.

He thinks he’ll call her tomorrow, give her a formal apology.

But for now, the only person he wants to talk to is his husband--Harry Tomlinson.

He clicks on his phone, seeing no more than 28 missed calls from Harry, just like earlier. He shakes his head with a laugh.

The little shit... he thinks to himself. So extra.

He ignores the millions among millions of social media notifications he has, and clicks on the familiar name and presses call.

Louis knows he’ll have to wait three rings for Harry to pick up. Three rings because I love you has three words! He remembers Harry saying. He really was so extra.

After the third ring, a familiar voice picks up.

“Oh my gosh, did you hear?! Louis Tomlinson is gay! And MARRIED!!!” he hears Harry loudly joke over the phone, and Louis can’t help but laugh.

“Hi, love. How was your day?”

“Boring at first, but pretty exciting now. I’m famous! An overnight sensation!” Harry cheers. Louis knows it’s not because Harry’s famous now, but because he finally did it. Said fuck the closet contract, and finally spread his wings, and flew to freedom.

“Oh yes! Justin Bieber is certainly shaking right now.”

Harry laughs a familiar laugh. Something Louis thinks he’ll never get sick of.

“I’m... I’m really happy, Lou. Baby... you did it. You finally expressed yourself to the world, in the way you wanted to. And I’m proud, so proud of you baby.” Louis can hear a slight sound of a cry in Harry’s voice.

“Are you fucking crying?” Louis asks lightheartedly.

He hears a sniffle. “Shut up! I just love you so much Louis William! And now I can publically. Now, we can hold hands on our walks in the park, and share ice cream in Gemma’s ice cream parlour. I get to show the world how much I love you, sweetcheeks!”

Louis can’t help it as tears start to form in his eyes too, but he does his best to conceal it as he speaks. “I know, babycakes... I love you so much too Harry Edward.”

There’s a comfortable silence between the two for a few moments, before Louis speaks up.

“Hey, Harry?”

“Yes, boo?

“Let’s go to Paris. Tomorrow.”

“Oh, um, sure! But why?”

“Cause...” Louis smiles into the phone. “I finally wanna show the world you’re mine. That were not hiding under the eiffel tower to express our love anymore... by kissing you right in front of it, all for the world to see.”

[tongueincheekywrites-blog]

fatherhood is the last straw

As Louis Tomlinson strolls down Hollywood Boulevard with a plastic; robotic baby doll in a $500 stroller, he can’t help but wonder if this is really all that life has to offer him. 

Louis’s been thinking of death a lot lately.

Odd for a lad who just became a father, right?

He smokes more, drinks more, even has started skipping meals.

Because he figures, the more toxic behaviors he picks up, the more likely this whole charade will end sooner.

With death.

When men become fathers, it is said to make them better people. Because they stop worrying about everything but their baby. Because that baby becomes their universe.

Well maybe, if this was a real baby that really was his, that really was in this stroller he was pushing down Hollywood Boulevard, maybe that would be true.

But instead, here he is, real and broken.

Pushing a baby doll in a stroller down the sidewalk.

Cameras are attacking his emotionless face with their bright, flashing orbs of light. His fingers tremble as they grip tighter onto the stroller’s handle.

“Louis! Over here!”

“How’s fatherhood treating you?”

“How the baby?”

Oh how badly does he just want to pull the doll out of the stroller, rip it’s stupid plastic head off, and scream how fake it and all it’s plastic parts are as they’re scattered on the floor.

Wouldn’t that make a hell of a headline?

He’s sure it would be a headline that wouldn’t make him think twice as he looked at busy streets, sharp blades, and large bodies of water.

Like the headline for the past 9 months has.

He remembers that office room back in April, with it’s perfectly positioned furniture, clean dressed workers, and their fucked up minds.

He can still remember that office conversation like it was a script of lines he’s memorized.

“Louis, this is Briana Jungwirth. We’ve noticed she’s a friend among your friends, and well... we have a plan for the both of you.”

He knew where this was going, but never could he imagine how much worse it would be than his already screwed up expectations.

“You’re going to have a baby together.”

His felt as if his heart dropped out of his stomach and onto that office desk for all to see. All that’s happened these seven years have teared it, bruised it, and burned it. But this, oh this, he might as well just not have a heart at all after this.

So he just won’t.

And that’s how he’s ended up here, on Hollywood Boulevard in front of god knows how many paparazzi, pushing a stroller with a baby doll inside.

He remembers all the times he got wasted before this happened. All those times at the clubs and bars with Briana, because if he has to go out with her, he might as well numb himself the entire night with the juice of loose feelings, giddy behavior, forgetfulness, and most of all, regret in the morning.

He remembers the night when the baby was to be “conceived”. Hopping around the parking lot, a smile never leaving his face as the blonde beauty trailed behind him. His smile was not a smile of joy, but a smile of his body and soul being completely filled to the brim with alcohol.

He thinks if they really saw behind the drunk behavior, that maybe they would have seen that was one of the nights he wanted to die more than any other night.

Because fake it until you make it, right?

However now, he isn’t sure he’s ever going to make it.

At least, he isn’t sure if he’s ever going to make it out alive.

To this day, he barely knows the girl who’s his supposed baby mama. The girl he writes a paycheck to every month as “child support”. Oh how their baby is going to love her new wardrobe of clothes, changing hair colors, new nose, and new plump lips.

But I guess that was the idea, right? That Louis is a drunk, washed up pop star who screws a new girl every night, only one night he just got all too reckless and got the poor, innocent girl pregnant.

Little do they all know, Louis is the innocent one here.

Forced into hiding, closeting, shame, ridicule, and an overall terrible life in and out of the public eye.

The title of ‘father’ bestowed upon him, for he needs to stay relevant.

And straight.

With no questions about it.

But it’s been so long, too long he thinks.

Since he’s been free and happy.

Free and happy... with Harry.

The love of his life.

No amount of smoking, drinking, and partying can fill the hole Harry does for him. When he’s with Harry, it’s as if there’s nothing but the smiling, green eyed boy in his world.

Their cuddly mornings in bed, their midday cooking with the aroma of spaghetti sauce and Harry’s shampoo taking Louis over, their late night cuddles with sleepy; sloppy kisses, as the same romantic comedy plays in the background, because those always made Harry happy, and Harry happy made Louis happy.

No contracts.

No rules.

No stunts.

No procedures.

Just Harry.

It was as if...

Harry was his world.

Harry is his world.

At least, he still hopes so.

But it’s been so long, and those feelings of distance from the boy, he was sure he loved more than himself, were starting to take him over.

And as he continues to push this stroller down a sidewalk he felt like would never end...

He wasn’t sure how much more of it he could take.

So maybe tonight, he should find his best suit...

And finally set himself free.

So for once, the news, the tabloids, and the websites can finally tell the true story.

The true story on how, and the reason why, Louis William Tomlinson died.

Because if he can’t be himself...

There shouldn’t be a Louis Tomlinson in the world at all.

[tongueincheekywrites-blog]

everything’s perfect

Louis Tomlinson thinks his boyfriend Harry Styles is simply one word... perfect. After a day of shopping with his sister Lottie, he decides he wants to change Harry to be more than just his boyfriend.

“This is really nice Lou, thanks for coming shopping with me,” Lottie says sweetly, clenching the one of a few bags she was holding from some of her favorite makeup and clothing stores.

Louis came to the mall with Lottie. She really hasn’t spent time with Louis, her big brother, alone without a bunch of family members of just five other siblings for that matter. It was nice. They were really close and always looking out for each other.

Of course Louis is here to spend time with Lottie, however, he also has another intention. A secret intention Lottie was just about to find out about.

“Hey Lots... before we head out, I just realized there was one other store I wanted to stop at. You mind?”

She giggles lightly, “Sure thing, where we headed?”

“Jared.”

“Got it,” she says, turning her heels to head to the direction of the store. He can’t help but laugh a bit at her oblivious nature.

Jared is a jewelry store. Not just any jewelry store however...

Primarily, it is a jewelry store that sells engagement rings.

It’s no question to Louis. He loves Harry. More than he loves himself, if he’s being entirely honest. This boy has had his heart in the palm of his hand since they met in a bathroom--among all places--seven years ago. Then, they were put in a band with three other boys, and throughout the mess of all that, he knew in his heart with all the times he’s had with Harry, from the 3am crying from nightmares to those quick kisses Harry would give him before going on stage, he knew in his heart... there was no one else.

Harry was his soulmate.

He was the one.

As the brother-sister duo enter the Jared store, Lottie being the feminine little beauty she is can’t help but glance around at all the sparkles and shimmers of jewels. However, Louis has a completely different feeling stepping inside.

This is it.

This will forever change his life forever.

And in the best way possible.

“Soooo, whatcha looking for Lou?” She asks, sweet and oblivious once again.

“Lottie, come on, you’re a smart little lady. What’s this store known for?”

She thinks on it for a moment, her face scrunched up and her eyelashes fluttering as she blinks in thought. Lottie’s a little slow with things, but once she does figure something out, boy is she smart with it.

Like just now.

The realization must have entered her mind, because her eyes instantly widen. Her mouth agape and she practically drops everything in her hands.

“Louis... Tomlinson... are you?”

“Yep! Now come on, look around with me,” he cuts her off quickly, beginning to circle the store.

“Wait, hold on! I’m your sister! I need an explanation mister!” She says, catching up to him.

“It’s simple Lots, I love Harry, and come on, have you ever seen me love someone so much like that? Do you really think there’s going to be another person? Cause I sure don’t. There’s no one but Harry... it’s always been him,” as he speaks, he can’t help but start to smile like an idiot at his words. He was in love. Crazy, mad, deep, stupid, and hopelessly in love.

She smiles too, poking his now tinted red cheek. “No, you’re right, it’s always been Harry. He’s always been the one to make you soft.”

“Alright, alright, now help me look!”

As they circle for awhile, not really finding anything that screams Harry, a lady who he assumes works here by the fact she has a nametag on, walks over to the two of them. A big adorable grin on her face as she speaks.

“Hi! Thanks for stopping in to Jared. I’m Dodie! Is there anything specific I can help you look for?” She asks, her brown eyes shimmering as she speaks.

“Yeah actually,” Louis chuckles, suddenly nervous now. “I’m looking for an engagement ring so I can propose to my boyfriend, but I can’t really find anything that would fit him, personality wise.”

“Oh well don’t worry! Here at Jared we have everything! I’m sure I’m bound to find you something perfect for him!” She extends out a hand. “Can I have your names?”

“I’m Louis,” he says, shaking her hand.

“Nice to meet you Louis, and you?” Dodie asks, turning to the platinum blonde.

“Lottie, the soon-to-be fiance’s little sis,” she jokes, shaking Dodie’s hand, the both laughing.

“And nice to meet you, Lottie! Nice to meet each of you!” She turns to Louis, clapping her hands together in excitement. “So! Tell me, who’s this fiance? What’s he like? What’s he into? Let me get a feel for him to find the perfect ring.”

“Well...” Louis trails on. “He’s very humble, and a real sweetheart. Doesn’t have a bad bone in his body I don’t think. Always spreading love and kindness and all that. Oh, and he’s a very bold one fashion wise, he is. Always wearing these suits that have the patterns of ugly Grandma couches, but he makes them work. Oh, and loves pink! And anything shiny!”

“Sounds like you really love him,” Dodie says, smiling sweetly.

“Yeah... I definitely do,” he blushes, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand nervously.

“Trust me, I think it was love since day one,” Lottie jokes. They all giggle.

“Well, I think I have the perfect ring in mind for him. Come with me!”

Dodie guides them to a corner of the store with some rose gold jewelry, going under the display counter and pulling out a simple rose gold colored band with a few tiny diamonds scattered all around it.

“I have a feeling, from what you’ve said, this would be perfect for him,” she says, twirling the ring in her fingers to let Louis and Lottie have a good look. Lottie grins, looking over at Louis who for some reason couldn’t help but get a bit teary eyed.

“Yeah... uh... yeah.” He sniffles, laughing as his embarrassed emotions from imagining Harry with the ring. “It’s perfect.”

“You know what...” Dodie trails on. “I can tell you and your hopefully fiance are different, and that this is a really special kind of love. So I’m going to give you this ring for free.”

Louis and Lottie both gape at her. For free?! Surely, they can’t let her do that. He has to pay, it’s not like he can’t afford it.

“No, no, please. I can’t let you do that,” Louis says, reaching back to pull out his wallet. However, Dodie shakes her head, smiling cutely.

“Nope! I’m afraid this ring for you is free of charge! I can’t accept any money for it,” she winks.

Louis sighs in defeat, a smile enveloping him. “Thank you, Dodie. Seriously.”

She gets a little black box for the ring and slides it in, putting the ring box in a small and discrete dark red bag.

“Here you are!” she cheers, handing the bag to Louis. “Best of luck, Louis! Nice meeting you both again, I wish you well!”

They both smile, giving Dodie small hugs before grinning and walking off to Louis’s car.

“So, how are ya gonna pop the question, Lou?” Lottie grins cheekily, nudging him as she enters the passenger seat and him the driver seat.

“What’s today’s date?” he asks, starting up the car.

“September 28th.”

“Well, then I guess today.”

---

It’s a casual evening, like most. Harry’s just come back from his New York City show from his solo tour, dressed in pajamas, and cuddling into Louis chest on the couch as they were watching a rerun of some sitcom on TV.

Little did the tired little rockstar know, Louis is screaming in fear on the inside.

There’s no reason Harry would say no. They’ve been together for seven years, it’s like they’re married already. All Louis wants to do is make it official with rings, a big wedding celebration, and a paper from city hall... not that it was needed.

“Hey Harry?” Louis asks, trying to hold back the nervous tone in his voice.

“Hmm?” Harry asks, glancing up at the boy. Seeing his odd expression, he sits up from Louis’s chest. Taking his hand, he strokes Louis’s jawline comfortingly. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Louis melts into the touch, leaning into it. “Nothing. Everything’s perfect.”

Harry giggles. “Then what’s with the face?”

“I-I need to talk to you about... something.”

“O-Okay,” Harry says, starting to get nervous too. What could he need to talk to him about? Is it about the tour? Is it getting hard for him? Is he not getting enough attention? Now Harry was internally beginning to panic.

Louis stands up from the couch, turning off the TV before directly facing Harry who was sitting straight up on the couch, waiting for whatever was about to happen.

“So...” Louis began, laughing because boy he didn’t plan this at all beyond buying the ring. He just wants it to be casual and feel normal, so that’s why he choose tonight in their NYC home, a place of peace and comfort to do it. Just say how you feel, he thought to himself.

“So...” Louis starts again.

“So...” Harry says, smirking.

“No, Haz, focus! This is very serious!” Louis can’t help but laugh and Harry laughs too.

“I mean, it’s kinda hard to take you seriously when we're both in pajamas,” Harry jokes. “But okay, go ahead baby. What’s up?”

He takes a nervous breath. “Okay, well... you know, we’ve been together for seven years...”

“Yes, and seven isn’t a divisible number by anything but itself!”

“Harry, please! I’m trying here!” Louis urges, laughing as his ridiculous boyfriend.

“Okay, okay, now I’m done. Continue,” he says, putting on an ‘in focus’ face.

“Well, like I said, we’ve been together for seven years. And honestly Harry, those seven years...” he takes a breath, trying to fight off happy tears of love. Despite not showing it a lot, he’s a pretty emotional guy. And well, love makes you feel crazy things.

He continues, “Those seven years have been the fucking best of my life. You see, I never understood love and what it meant. When I was in drama club as a kid in school, I’d play leading lads who fell hopelessly in love with beautiful girls. But truthfully, I never understood it. Never got how someone could feel that for another person. But then, I met you. In a bathroom, on The X Factor. I think in that moment, seeing your big head of curls and dimpled smile, I knew what love was. And since that day, you’ve changed me for the best, and I’m sure you’ll continue to do so forever, cause, well...” he hesitated for a brief moment, before taking the chance, getting down on one knee.

“Oh my god,” Harry spewed out, standing up and looking down at him, eyes wide with shock.

“Awhile ago, when we were kids, in an interview I said I’d marry you, Harry. Cause it rhymes. But really, I was being serious. I wanted to marry you then and I want to marry you now.” He takes a deep breath, taking out the box from his pocket, opening it to reveal the sparkly rose gold ring. Harry couldn’t help but just light up at the ring. Louis was so right, the ring was so Harry.

“Harry Edward Styles... babycakes... I’ve loved you since I was 18, so seven years later, will you please do me the greatest honor of my life, marry me, and become my husband forever?”

“Oh sweetcheeks...” Harry says, voice full of love as tears brim his eyes. “Yes, I will absolutely marry you.”

And with that, Louis face just glows as he puts the ring onto Harry’s finger, to then quickly stand up and grab Harry’s face in his hands, kissing him deeply.

After awhile, the two pull away, breathless and with the biggest grins of their faces, staring into each other’s eyes with pure joy and love.

Harry brings his hand up to his face, glancing at the ring and admiring it with all the others on his hand. Louis really knew him, this ring was perfect. Everything Harry could have ever imagined his ring to be.

“So I guess I should change my tour name to the Harry Tomlinson tour, huh?” Harry jokes, causing Louis to grin at the name.

“Obviously, Mr. Tomlinson.”

---

“Hey honey! I’m on the way to the airport now. Your show was absolutely smashing, darling. I couldn’t be prouder of you, all that you’ve done, and all you represent,” his mum Anne says to him on the phone. He couldn’t wait any longer, he just had to call her and share the news.

“Thank you mum, it means so much... but that’s not what I’m calling about,” he says, fidgeting with the new ring on his finger.

“Oh? What’s up, love?” she asks.

He can’t help but grin like an idiot. “Well... the Tomlinson’s are getting a new family member.”

“Oh wow, is someone pregnant?”

“No mum, it's because someone is engaged,” He laughs, but smiles even wider if that’s even possible. Engaged. Harry Styles is engaged. Engaged to the love of his life, Louis Tomlinson.

“No way! Who?!”

“Me.”

There’s a pause, before Anne speaks. “Harry... are you telling me that Louis-”

“Yes,” he says, cutting her off for he is unable to contain himself. “Louis proposed. We’re engaged. You’re looking at the future Harry Tomlinson.”

“Honey...” it’s as if she’s as choked up as he is, for he can practically hear her smile and tears of joy over the phone. “I’m so happy for the both of you. Oh my goodness, this is perfect. Simply perfect. I knew when you came out of that bathroom during The X Factor, something happened. You had a look that screamed ‘hopelessly in love’ on your face, and never once did I ever see that look leave your face since that day with you and Louis. It’s fate, Harry. Perfect fate. And I, as your mother, couldn’t be happier. I love you both so much.”

“I know... thank you mum... it really is perfect.���

And for the rest of their phone call, the mother and son discussed all the cheesy wedding things. Venues, themes, outfits, food, Gemma being the maid of honor, all of Louis’s little sisters being bridesmaids, and Lottie being the flower girl.

All of those things will be figured out.

But one things for certain.

Everything really was perfect.