Today is in the Past - A Larry Stylinson AU

“When I’m on the edge of insanity, I hope you’ll come to rescue me.”

Summary: Harry wasn’t misguided, and nor was he lost.  He knew perfectly where he was, that wasn’t the issue.  He had two main problems in his life.  Number one: his family and classmates were all idiots.  And number two: Harry didn’t have the time to deal with those kinds of people.  He didn’t care if he hadn’t a single friend.  Harry.  Didn’t.  Care.

 

But on a dull Friday night, during his part-time job at the local library, in walks the eccentric Louis Tomlinson.

 

And suddenly Harry cares a lot more.

 

Chapter One: 

A/N: I know this is super short, but that’s only because I’m building the story up.  I originally had over 2,000 words, but I had to take some parts out because it didn’t flow together well enough.  So yeah, feedback would be lovely, let me know what you think c:

Boring.  Boring.  Boring.  Everything about this is boring.

Harry was about one-third of the way done with stamping library information onto new books.

 

Why do I work here?  Why why why?

 

He looked over at the clock hanging on the wall behind the front desk: 7:43.

 

Clock-out time was at eight; he could handle seventeen more minutes of stamping.

 

Seventeen more minutes of torturous stamping…

 

Harry made eye-contact with the head librarian – Ms. Tisle – and cringed further into his seat.  Ms. Tisle was a bitter, gray-haired lady who never got married because she practically devoted her whole life to the shabby library.  Seeing that Harry was paying more attention to the time and less attention to his work, she shot ice-cold daggers across the room and Harry went straight back to his work.

 

His desk (well, rather, his table) was crammed in a small space on the opposite side of the room from the front desk.  Ms. Tisle claims it is a rule that all minors aren’t allowed their own space behind the front desk, but the seventeen year old just claims she is a pretentious bitch.

 

As he continued stamping the cheesy titled teen romance novels, he let his eyes wander to the clock again: 7:44.  Fan-fucking-tastic.

 

“A watched clock never ticks, Harry,” he mumbled to himself, and, unfortunately, decided he might as well complete the tedious task if he ever wanted to get out of here on time.

 

After what seemed like hours of slowly raising his hand and placing the stamp onto its proper place on the inside cover over and over again, the nightly announcement was made informing that there was only ten minutes left until closing.  It didn’t matter much, anyway; the place was completely deserted.  Who in their right mind would check out a book at this hour on a Friday night?

 

To Harry’s dismay, he heard the front door of the entrance open, and watched as a tiny-framed figure quickly made his way to the front desk.  Ms. Tisle looked annoyed, but proceeded to help the boy anyway.  They began to walk away, and Harry found himself craning his neck to get a good look at the two.

 

As the frail old lady and the eager lad made their way to the furthest bookcase down the hall, near the non-fiction area, Harry let loose a breath he wasn’t aware of holding.  He craned his neck even further in an attempt to fully see the two, but slouched his shoulders when he realized Ms. Tisle and whoever that guy was were completely out of his range of vision.  He looked down at his unstamped books, and then around the area to see if any other employees were watching him, and then decided to get up and follow the two.

 

Harry wasn’t sure why he cared so much, exactly.  It wasn’t even that he cared, really.  The guy just seemed so keen and persistent on getting the book right this second, and something about that interested Harry.  Usually young guys are never eager for a read – well, at least the ones that step into the library, dragged by their sister or their mother or their girlfriend or whatever.

 

And Harry was also super bored.  As exciting as stamping mediocre books sounded, Harry was in desperate need of a distraction.

 

As he walked down the hall, he tried to make his footsteps as quiet as possible, despite his abnormally large feet and clunky shoes.  He made it seem as if he were looking for a spot on the shelf for a new book he strategically picked up before he left the table.  Scanning the shelves, he directed his ears to the conversation on the opposite side of the bookcase.

 

“Now, what were you looking for again, exactly?” asked the librarian, clearly irritated by having to help someone so close to closing time.

 

“Anything having to do with the Boston Tea Party, it’s urgent,” the mystery boy’s voice piped, plead coating his tone.

 

The Boston Tea Party? What the fuck?

 

“Mhm…” Ms. Tisle muttered as she scanned the shelves.  Harry pressed his ear closer to the case.

 

“And may I ask why you needed this book oh so urgently so late on a Friday night?” Ms. Tisle questioned with a peeved enunciation.

 

Mystery Boy didn’t miss a beat. “I’m afraid that order of business is confidential.  Please just find me a book.”

 

Wow, Mystery Boy’s got edge.

 

Harry could hear the shuffling of books stop as Ms. Tisle processed what Mystery Boy had just said, but she quickly retaliated and continued her search.

 

“Could you hurry up, please?” Mystery Boy asked impatiently. “I really need to be somewhere.”

 

Well then why didn’t you come to the library sooner, idiot?

 

He heard Ms. Tisle sigh heavily and mumble a phrase under her breath, and in an effort to hear her, Harry pressed the side of his head as firmly as possible against the books.

 

As a result, the whole middle section of books near Harry spurted out on the opposite side, right where the two Harry was eavesdropping were.

 

Ms. Tisle gasped loudly, and Mystery Boy took a giant leap back.  All Harry could do was quickly crouch down and hide behind the case.

 

His hiding spot didn’t seem to fool the librarian, though, who stomped her petite feet over to the opposite side of the shelf.  With each click-clack her tiny heals made, Harry sunk further into the ground, not from fear, but from sheer embarrassment.

 

“Harry!” she shouted the best she could without breaking a whisper.  “What on Earth are you doing?!”

 

“Uh…” Harry stalled.  “Putting this book away?”

 

He held up the new book still in his hands and for the first time read the title: “Immortal Hearts: A Vampire Kisses Novel” by Ellen Schreiber.

 

Hm.  Not his best plan…

 

Ms. Tisle took the book from his hand and flared her nostrils, pursing her lips like she just tasted a lemon.  Meanwhile, Mystery Boy walked around the bookshelf and widened his eyes at the sight of Harry.  He bit back a smile at Harry’s ever reddening cheeks.

 

“And you decided,” Ms. Tisle began, “that the best place for this book would be in the non-fiction section?”

 

“Uh…” Harry stalled once again.  “…That’s not non-fiction?”

 

Mystery Boy couldn’t stop himself.  He let out a loud boisterous laugh and promptly slapped his hands over his mouth when Ms. Tisle fixed her glare on him.

 

“How is this funny, young man?!” she spat. “My library is a mess!”

 

“I don’t think it’s your library that’s a mess…” Harry grumbled and Ms. Tisle whipped around to fix the iciest scowl on Harry.  Right before she could say something, mystery boy butted in.

 

“Um, sorry to interrupt, but I really do need this book,” he said, glancing over at Harry.

 

Ms. Tisle exhaled noisily. “Yes, of course.  I’ll be right back.”

 

Mystery Boy smiled and then looked over at Harry.

 

“Thanks, man,” Harry expressed. “If you hadn’t stepped in she would’ve fired my ass right then.”

 

Mystery Boy ignored Harry’s gratitude and questioned the real topic at hand.  “Were you spying on us?”

 

Harry’s eyes grew wide like saucers.  “Uh,” he stalled for the third time that night.

 

But Mystery Boy didn’t seem mad.  In fact, he actually seemed to be quite…amused.

 

“Why did you feel the need to spy on us?” he pondered mockingly.

 

“I wasn’t spying,” Harry attempted to justify.  “I really thought this book belonged on this shelf.”

 

Mystery Boy let out a laugh once again.  “Since when is a tacky book about vampires ever a work of non-fiction?”

 

Before Harry could answer, Ms. Tisle came walking back with a thick book in her hands.

 

“Here you go,” she exasperated, handing the book to the boy with caramel hair.  “Now hurry and go check this out.  We close in three minutes.”

 

“Yes ma’am, thank you,” Mystery Boy acknowledged, flashing one last glance at Harry, still on the floor.  “Have a great evening, you two,” he said with a wink.

 

As mystery boy sauntered off, Ms. Tisle turned once again towards Harry.  “Up. Now. And pick up those books. Now.”

 

Harry did as he was told, thinking it wasn’t worth risking his job again to complain and walked past Ms. Tisle with his head down.

 

“And you wonder why we don’t give you a spot behind the desk…” the librarian grumbled as she stomped off.