Love For Loan - Larry Stylinson

Chapter Seven

hiiii. merry (late) christmas and happy (early) new year! well, here's chapter seven and thanks for reading and commenting and voting! <3 we reallyyyyy appreciate hearing what you guys have to say :)

CHAPTER SEVEN

Louis wakes up the next morning, feeling literally like crap. He wants to roll over so that he can look at the little clock on his bedside drawer, but just a slight tilt of his head makes him want to slam his head against a wall. So he just lies there, facing the ceiling for a bit. He rubs his temples with his index fingers, but it only serves to make him feel strangely nauseous. 

Louis sits up carefully, but his head’s still pounding like a bitch, and it feels like it’s going to explode any second. Nonetheless, he drags himself to the bathroom and brushes his teeth, since his mouth feels all icky and tastes like vomit and alcohol. 

He looks in the mirror and tries to get his hair to stay where he wants it to stay, but it doesn’t work, so he decides to take a nice, warm shower. As he strips off his clothes, he realises he didn’t change out of them last night at all. Louis turns on the water and steps in, and he instantly feels better already. 

He doesn’t remember the last time he got so hammered, because it doesn’t normally end up making him feel like absolute shit the next morning. And usually, after he drinks and has a great night, he wakes up the next morning with someone by his side. But this time it’s strange because there isn’t a girl next to him that he has to chase out; it’s just him and his house.

As Louis shampoos his hair, he tries to remember the events of the night prior. It isn’t normally this hard, because he’d definitely remember at least some moaning or flirting or something. 

Then he realises why he doesn’t remember any of that; because he was with Harry. Right, Harry. Nothing like that would ever happen when he's with the curly-haired boy.

Harry had been upset because he made a mistake that really wasn’t his fault. Louis comforted him and offered to make him feel better, so they went to a bar. Oh, the bar, right, the bar. The bar at which Louis got awfully drunk and couldn’t get on his feet and started giggling and couldn’t drive home and oh god Harry had to drive him home and does he even have a license, and Harry had to literally carry him up to his room and put him down on his bed. Then he pulled Harry on him and wouldn’t let go and he told Harry-

Oh god.

~*~

As soon as he’s shampoo/soap-free, Louis steps out of the shower, towels himself dry and puts on a pair of sweats and an oversized T-shirt. He almost stumbles in his haste to get back to his room, then he realises his phone’s in the pocket of his jeans, and that his jeans are lying on the bathroom floor. 

“Fucking hell,” Louis mutters as he goes back into the bathroom to grab his phone. 

He presses the home button and prays that maybe Harry texted him or something so that he doesn’t have to be the one to do it. But when his screen just lights up with his lock screen and no notifications, he runs his fingers through his wet hair. He doesn’t know what to do, because, what’s a guy supposed to do after he tells another awkward guy that he loves him even if it’s unintentional? Bury his head in the soil, Louis tells himself.