Spaces | A Larry AU

Harry is known as the best baker in the town of Doncaster, England. This doesn't nearly compare to the greatly famous Louis Tomlinson, who just happened to live in Doncaster at the time of the UK X-Factor.

Harry Styles moved to Doncaster, England at the age of 14 as a result of his parents divorce. This is where he meets someone new and inviting, not to compare to the people of Cheshire, Harry’s hometown. This is where he meets Louis Tomlinson. He’s in for so much more than a 18-year-old car handle when his best friend, but secret crush, auditions to be a solo artist. Louis didn’t have much faith in himself, while Harry knew he would get in. You can guess who was right.

WARNING: This story may contain homosexuality, sexual situations, dirty humor, etc. If you are uncomfortable with any of these situations, please, do not read on. I really like to continue this story without getting reported. Thank you and happy reading :)

Rated: PG-13


2. Chapter Two - The Boy in the Blue Beanie

My alarm clock vibrated the small apartment bedroom, my bed frame included. I slammed the snooze button and growled, flopping my legs over the edge of my bed. I wrestled my soreness of moving and decided it was best if I get up now than to wait. After all, it was the first day at a new school.

I hurriedly went through a pile of clothes on my dresser that I hadn’t had a chance to put away. I’m a very organized person, so to see things lying in piles on the floor ticked my OCD more than normal. Once I’d finished, I pulled out a black and red flannel, white t-shirt, beige chinos, and a pair of black and white converse and tossed them on the bed.

Once I was dressed, I grabbed my empty backpack and strolled down the tight staircase and into our beaten up kitchen. The room included a fridge, sink, stove, and a few cabinets. The walls were painted an ugly mustard yellow color, peeling off some walls. There were worn wooden floors that covered the entire apartment, covered in scratches and skid marks. I could tell why the apartment was so cheap; it was so shitty that no one would buy it. But we can’t afford anything else in Doncaster besides this.

According to my mother, we can only go as far as Doncaster because she wants me to be able to be in contact with other family members and have access in case something ever happened to her. I understand that she cares about me and all, but I knew we could find something much better somewhere else. I knew someday that I would get us a better home, even if I have to save up all my money.

My mum stood cooking eggs on the rusted stove. I could even smell the burning when I woke up just about 15 minutes ago. She smiled and started filling a plate for me without any words.

“G’morning, Mum.” I grinned as she slid the plate across the small, wood dining table in front of me.

“Morning, honey,” her eyes lit up when she saw me smile. She knew it was just as hard for her adjusting as was to me. She went back to her cooking, same as she used to, just in a different place now. This was a new start.

“So, are you ready for your first day of school?” she turned the temperature to medium and spun around to look at me. My smile suddenly turned down once she mentioned school. No, I’m not ready. But you can’t say something like that to an emotionally unstable person, especially your own mother.

“Oh yeah,” I lied, shoving the slightly burnt eggs in my mouth. “Totally.” I gave her a cheesy smile to show her I wasn’t being sarcastic and she could go back to what she was doing.

“Great,” she said happily walking over to me once I’d cleared my plate, wiping my mouth with a few of the thin napkins that lied on the dirty table. “Make some friends.”


I cleaned myself up before heading out the door, hollering goodbye to my mum. Being in the neighborhood of Doncaster, I was surprised my mother let me walk to school. Not that it was far or anything, just that we were sort of in the “hood” of Doncaster.

I kicked rocks with my newly cleaned converse as I walked along the sidewalk. I admired some of the greater and larger houses that reminded me of our old house. I knew that they would always bring back memories, the good and bad.

I wondered how Gemma was doing. I knew that she got angered and emotional easily, which worried me a lot. One part of me wanted to run back home to see if Gemma had left anything for me, but I couldn’t worry my mother like that. I’m incapable of driving yet being 13 so there’s no easy way of me getting back to Cheshire anyways. I tried to ignore the tiny voice in the back of my mind telling me ‘Just run.’

I kept going in the same direction I began in, surprised by the long distance, but I didn’t doubt it. I swiped out my phone, attempting to use the GPS since I knew the address of the school given by my mum. As I was typing it in, my phone died. I must have forgot to charge it last night as I practically passed out once we’d finished getting settled in the apartment. Great, this is my kind of luck. I angrily shoved my phone in my back pocket and pulled my coat tighter around my long torso. This is when I realized that there really weren’t many people out and about at this hour.

It was only 7:30, so I decided I would stop in for a coffee at a local Starbucks I landed by a few minutes later. I pushed past the door, causing a bell to ring as I let it fall back and I stretched to the counter. There were a few people, mainly lonely men drinking their caffeine before a long day at the office. There was a girl, maybe 16 or 17, slouching over the counter asking the woman in front of me what she wanted. I observed the quiet atmosphere, noticing I could only hear a bit of mumbling and mainly the news on the flat screen over the big window. A few workers were cleaning up the tables, getting ready for a long day they knew they’d have. The other workers were getting drinks ready behind the counter.

Once the woman ordered, she slid over, smiling down and using her hands offering me to order myself. I looked up to the blonde and said,

“May I have a tall peppermint mocha?” handing out five dollars. She snatched the money from my chapped hands and jammed it in the cash register. I grimaced and moved over, letting the shorter boy with caramel hair and a blue beanie to the counter.

“I’ll have what curly had over here.” He pointed his finger over to me as I blankly stared back. I first landed on his eyes. A glimmering blue-green; I could stare at them forever. I traveled down the bridge his cute button nose and finally found his lips, so pink and soft. The way the moved when he talked and his jawline came next. It was so sharp and complex, it fit his entire face. I went down his neck, and came across his tan skin that peeked through a bit of his button-up shirt, that was un-buttoned just enough to tease the eyes of everyone, especially the cashier. He tugged on his outer jean jacket and poked through his jacket’s pockets, I assumed looking for money. This followed to me noticing the prize of it all. Damn, that arse. I looked down his fit legs, wrapped in tight, light blue skinny’s and a pair of grey toms covering his feet. He was definitely a beautiful boy, I’ll give him that.

“What do you mean you’ll have it done in ten minutes?” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up. I shook my head and ran back to his perfectly chiseled face, now compressed and angry.

“I have school!”

“That’s not my problem,” the snobby girl said, counting the dollars one-by-one.

“Well, it’s not my problem if I don’t give you any profit either.” He snatched his money back and stormed out of the building. My eyes followed each pace, each step, as he left the coffee shop. I was mesmerized by the boy in the blue beanie.


Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...