Summary: Louis refused to leave Eleanor, and Harry just couldn't take it anymore. He stood his ground, finally, and wasn't going to budge anytime soon. Is this it?
Warnings: Feels (lots of it), drinking, and mentions of drugs and sex.
Author's Note: This was mainly inspired by Mayday Parade's, Jersey. This song, it just really speaks volumes to me right now - so this story is the result of listening to it on repeat fifteen (actually make that sixteen times) in a row. I really recommend listening to it - it's lovely.
"I'm scared to death that everything you said was just a lie until you left…" Jersey, Mayday Parade.
"Harry, stop," Louis pleaded, grabbing for the youngers' wrist, trying to stop him from leaving the flat.
"Why, Louis," Harry said, finally turning around to glare at the other male. "So I can just sit there and watch you flirt with her? No, I'm tired of this. Fuck management, fuck Eleanor, just… fuck it all."
"Harry, please, don't leave," Louis tried again, staring into those green eyes that he first fell in love with, back on X-Factor when he first caught sight of the curly-haired teenager.
"It's me, or her, Louis," Harry finally said, giving Louis a moment to think.
"Harry, you know we need her," Louis yelled in frustration. "It's too soon for us –"
"For us to come out, for us to be openly gay, for us to be happy. Yeah, I've heard it all before, Louis," Harry waved it off, continuing the walk down the stairs, realizing that Louis had made his decision.
"Can you at least tell me where you're going," Louis asked from the balcony.
"Mum's," Harry answered, slamming the front door to their flat, and nearly speeding his way to his mothers.
It had nearly been three weeks since that argument, and Harry and Louis still haven't talked outside of interviews, live shows, photo shoots, and anywhere else that might show that there was tension was thick; they were forced to act like nothing had happened as it would be bad publicity, and Harry didn't know how much longer he had to keep the act you. It was just one after another, act after act. He was getting sick of it.
Not to mention the fact that Louis had tried talking to Harry, to work through their argument – because, honestly, Louis couldn't live without him – but Harry ignored all attempts when they weren't on camera, near fans or paparazzi. It killed Harry to do that to him, but he had had enough, but he found himself missing the shortest of the pair every night.
Harry had been sharing a room with Niall since their argument as he couldn't keep going from his mothers' house and back to London every day, and as much as he loved being around Niall, it wasn't the same. It wasn't the same because it wasn't Louis. Louis wasn't here to greet him with a hug when he walked through the door. Louis wasn't there to give him small smiles after he had said, or done, something idiotic. Louis wasn't there to give him small kisses of affection. Louis wasn't there to make love to him. Louis wasn't there to hold onto him at night.
Harry missed Louis a lot – so much, he thought he might shrivel up and die from the longing – but he had had enough of Eleanor and Louis, and he was standing his ground this time around. It killed him every time he saw them 'flirting,' hugging, talking, just any kind of contact in general, and while Harry realized he was totally being unfair to Louis since he was doing this for them to, he just… he couldn't do it anymore. Even if it was a fake relationship, he couldn't live in a lie any longer. He needed to be free, he needed to be able to love Louis without worrying they were being overly-affectionate, he needed to declare his love for the tanned-skinned, bright blue-eyed, spastic lover.
But Louis had yet to get rid of Eleanor, and Harry was terrified that Louis would never get rid of her.
"Hey, lads," Zayn said, walking to Niall's flat and flopping himself down on the couch next to Harry, who was watching the telly, waiting for Niall to return with some snacks.
"Got a door bell, Zayn," Niall said, walking in with a bag of crisps, half-glaring at the tan man who just invited himself in, but couldn't put in the full effort as he was just one of the blondes' four best mates.
"Yeah, whatever," Zayn waved the blonde off, and took to looking at Harry. "So, Curly, want to go to the pub with me tonight?"
Harry thought for a moment before answering. Generally going to the pub with Zayn meant getting so pissed that the Cheshire male couldn't think straight for two days, but… he could really use it to take his mind off of Louis for a moment, and he had nothing else to do for the night.
"Yeah, let's go," Harry said, standing up and moving to grab his coat from the closet.
"'ey, what about me, you tosser," Niall exclaimed, throwing a potato crisp at Zayn's head.
"See, that is why I don't invite you to places – you throw food," Zayn joked, finding the crisp, and throwing it back at the blonde.
"'s okay; got plans with Josh tonight, anyways," Niall grinned.
Harry heard his mobile go off for what could have been the tenth time that night, not that he wasn't keeping count or anything, and just let it go to voicemail as he lost himself into pints of beer and pointless chit-chat with Zayn and Liam, who had decided to come to watch over them – ever the good parent, Harry joked to himself.
"Why aren't you answering it," Liam questioned finally, pointing to Harry's mobile as it loudly went off again for the eleventh time.
"'s just Louis'," Harry slurred slightly, before taking another big gulp from the large glass.
"Harry, he's called eleven times now – don't you think it might be important," Zayn interfered, taking Liam's side, as usual.
Shrugging in indifference, Harry grabbed his mobile and walked to the loo to call the brunette back to get Liam and Zayn off his back – he had come out to drink his problems away, not deal with them.
Getting into an empty stall, Harry quickly dialed Louis. On the second ring, he heard a very strained voice come from the other line. "Harry?"
"Lou, are you okay," Harry asked, concern in his voice; Louis never sounded like that unless he was deeply upset.
"I – I don't know."
Sobering up as much as he could, Harry took notice of the background noise on the other line. "Louis, are you outside? Where are you," he questioned, exiting the stall and loo, and walking straight to Liam once Louis had tried his best to describe where he was at; Harry putting the pieces together even in his slightly drunken mind and figuring out he was near The Eye in London.
"We have to go," Harry said, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair and paying for his, slipping it on quickly, and Zayn's drinks.
"Go? Why," Zayn asked, trying his best to stand up, but ended up needing the bar to hold himself steady – he was going to have a massive hangover in the morning.
"Louis," Harry said, pointing to his mobile with his other hand, as he was still on the line with Louis, trying to talk to the other him.
Liam quickly caught on to the worry in the curly man's voice, and grabbed onto Zayn – leading them to the car, not stopping to take photos or sign autographs for the fans that were waiting outside.
"Okay, where is he," Liam asked, getting into the driver's seat after sitting Zayn in the back.
"He said he's across from The Eye. Lou, stay where you are; I'm coming," Harry said into his end, and was satisfied when he heard a mumbled 'okay.'
It took less than ten minutes to get from the pub to where Louis had said he was at, and less than a minute for Harry to spot him. "Louis," he whispered, tearing off his seat belt and running out of the car to said male.
"Shite, Lou – what happened to you," Harry mumbled, when he got face to face. Louis' hair was disheveled, clothes in disarray, his eyes were rid, and pupils dilated. Shaking his head, Harry picked Louis up and carried him back to Liam's car – Liam and Zayn choosing to wait for the pair, instead of drawing unnecessary attention.
When Harry got back, he noticed Zayn had switched seats from the back to the front, letting Harry sit with Louis and comfort him to the best of his abilities.
When they got back to their flat – no, Louis', Harry forced himself to think – he immediately put Louis into his bedroom, deciding to question what happened to him at a later time.
"Wait, don't leave, Harry – don't leave again," Louis pleaded, latching onto Harry's hand, refusing to let go, when he tried to exit the room.
Weighing his options, Harry thought for a moment – while he had desperately missed Louis' embrace, his company, Harry still had alcohol in his system and he didn't want to do anything he might take back in the morning… Ah, fuck it, Harry thought, climbing into bed with Louis, covering them both with the satin, red sheets.
Wrapping his arm around Louis, Harry heard the other sigh in content. "I missed you," Louis whispered, turning around to be face to face with Harry.
"I missed you too," Harry whispered back, immediately face palming himself in his mind – bloody alcohol. Always made his lips loose.
"I love you, Harry – you know that right?"
Harry nodded, silence settling between them as Harry couldn't say it back – not while he was with her.
"I, um, I left her," Louis said finally, breaking the near deafening silence and biting his lower lip in nervousness.
"You did what," Harry asked, sitting up straight in shock.
"I left her – for you," Louis repeated, adding in the last part, sitting up as well.
"For me," Harry repeated, looking down.
"I couldn't be without you, and I knew the only way to get you back was to get rid of her – so I did. Management sure was mad. Anyways, that's what I have been trying to tell you for the past three weeks," Louis softly smiled.
"I – I am so sorry I didn't listen to you" Harry apologized, grabbing Louis' small hand in his large ones.
"'s okay; I would have done the same thing too, in all honesty."
"Lou – what happened to you tonight," Harry asked finally, hating not knowing. He was so messed up, and it had to be more than alcohol. Harry has seen Louis drunk – and this wasn't it. This fragile state was Louis on something completely different.
"Promise you won't get mad at me?"
"I promise," Harry chuckled.
Reaching into his bedside drawer, Louis pulled out a small baggy of white powder. "I took some of this," he said, handing it to Harry.
"This – this is coke, Louis. What are you doing with this," he asked, staring at the other in disbelief.
"I told you – I couldn't be without you. That's how I got through," Louis shrugged as if it was nothing.
Grabbing Louis face with his hand, Harry looked into the bright blue eyes that he loved so much. "Promise me you won't ever do this again."
"Promise me you'll never leave me again," Louis retorted.
His heart tugged from those words and he couldn't help himself; tossing the baggy into the garbage bin, Harry crashed his lips into Louis', enjoying the amount of warmth just that simple kiss gave him.
Pulling away, Harry rested his forehead on the others before whispering, "I'll never leave you ever again, I promise."
"Then I promise too," Louis smiled, pulling Harry into another kiss.