The Moment I Knew (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 14

A/N

Yes, three chapters in one week!! And I might update more as the week goes on, who knows.

I'll admit, I reallllly like all the comments I get when I upload, so I guess that's my motivation!

Sorry if this is kind of short, it's really just a filler.

AND REALLY IMPORTANT:

THERE IS GOING TO BE ONE MORE BOOK IN THIS SERIES AFTER THIS ONE!!! Just so you know!!

Love you!!

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Louis's POV

I was surprised that it took a while for the press to catch on to how often I was going out and getting drunk.

It was a week after Zayn, Niall, and Liam had tried to talk to me and I was sitting at some bar in a club, downing drink after drink.

I felt nauseous every time my eyes passed over my left wrist and the healing cut that was on it.

I was extremely careful every time I went out. If I wasn't wearing long sleeves or a watch or a bracelet, I put concealer or foundation or whatever the fuck it was called over it to hide the cut.

I hated the constant reminder of what I had done, but at the same time, I supposed that I deserved it.

I understood that I was completely out of line when I'd been talking, well, yelling, at the boys, but it just made me feel so sick that they were right and that I really was ruining myself. It wasn't that I was angry at the boys, I was jealous if anything. I was jealous that they could see Harry, I was jealous that he hadn't fallen in love with them, and I was jealous that they didn't know what the pressure I was under was like.

I was so angry with myself for so many reasons and I was taking it out on everyone around me.

Girls came up to ask me to dance and I politely declined.

Then guy came up and asked me.

"I've noticed that you've been turning away all those girls. Are you just not in the mood to dance or are you not in the mood to dance with a girl?" he asked, grinning cheekily.

"I'm not in the mood to dance," I snapped.

I didn't want to talk to anybody. I just wanted to get spectacularly drunk like every other night and I wanted to just forget.

"Not with me?" he joked, leaning on the bar counter and smirking at me.

"I'm not gay," I said simply, turning back to my drink.

"Never said you had to be. C'mon, it's just one dance. Lighten up a bit, yeah? You've been sitting here and glaring at your glass for two hours," he urged.

I stood. I would probably be in articles claiming that I was gay because I was dancing with a guy, but I was drunk enough that it didn't matter.

"Alright. But you better impress me," I said, winking at him.

He pulled me over to the dance floor and into the mass of sweaty bodies.

The music was something loud and fast- easy to dance to. He pulled me back against his chest and ground against my arse.

"Sure you're straight?" he laughed in my ear, "You've got a fantastic arse. It's a pity that you don't put it to good use."

"I've got a girlfriend!" I replied.

"I know," he said, "I know who you are and I know you've got a girlfriend."

I suddenly felt uncomfortable that he knew who I was. I knew that he could tell the press what it was like to dance with Louis Tomlinson when said popstar was on the verge of being pissed. I didn't know if I could trust him and I didn't like it. I squirmed away from him a bit.