Falling Again [Larry Stylinson]

Chapter Eighteen-Drunk

WHAT IS KNOWN TO BE THE BEST CHAPTER SO FAR, I GIVE YOU, CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"Don't be stupid." Louis sniggers.

"How am I being stupid?" I laugh as I hit him with my pillow.

"Ow! That hurt, Haz." He pouts.

"Sorry, Boo." I say, kissing his lips gently. "Better?" I pull back, smirking.

"Nope."

"Maybe you need some ice." I say, getting up and walking out of the living room, shoving my hands in my jean pockets as I head for the door.

"Haz? Where are you going?" Louis giggled as I silently opened the front door and scooped some snow into my hands.

"I'm getting you some ice to put on your boo-boo, Boo." I say.

"What? What are you-no! HAZ! NO!" He squeals, giggling as I dump the snow on him.

"Better now?" I smile.

"Now I'm cold." He says, slipping his wet shirt off.

"Come here then, silly." I laugh, wrapping my arms around him. "Boo, you're shaking." I say, pressing my lips to his shoulder.

"I told you I'm cold." He nuzzles his face into my neck, pressing his lips briefly onto my neck, making me shudder.

"Well, how do you suppose we warm you up?" I ask softly, pulling back so my forehead is pressed to his.

"Well," He wraps an arm around my neck as the other toys with my shirt. "I heard somewhere that physical exertion helps to heat up the body, when you get blood flowing."

"So," I smirk. "You want to.. Go to the gym and workout?" I suppress a laugh.

"Well," he presses his lips to mine. "If that's what you want," Another gentle kiss. "To do."

"Hm.. Unless you can think of something better?" I smile, pressing my lips to his again briefly. "But otherwise..." I pull back, turning to the door.

"Haz you're terrible." He chuckles, grabbing my hand and pulling me down the hall to the bedroom.

***

I gasp, sitting up in my bed. Oh god, not again.

I run my hand through my curls, trying to calm my breathing. I'm panting.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.

This is exactly what I was hoping never to have happen again. These dreams about Louis that.. That feel too real.

I can't stop thinking about it. I need to stop thinking about it.

That's when it hits me. The cupboard of alcohol downstairs.

Silently, I sneak out of my room, then head down to the kitchen. I can hear the TV on, even though it's nearly three in the morning.

I grab the first bottle I see, before sneaking back upstairs, unnoticed.

I sit down on my bed, looking at the bottle. Vodka. This'll do.

I screw open the bottle, and take a small swig, coughing slightly as the drink burns down my throat.

After a few more deeper gulps, it doesn't burn as much anymore. And I'm not so mad about liking Louis anymore, although he'll never like me back.

I've almost half drunk the bottle now. Wow.

I'm half way through a deep swig of the burning liquid, when I hear a cupboard slam shut downstairs, making me jump, and choke a bit on the drink.

I spill some out on my shirt. Well, actually, I spill a lot out on my shirt, so there's only a few sips left.

I place the bottle down on the floor, slipping my soaking shirt off over my head, getting some vodka in my curls.

Well, fuck.

I grab the bottle, not feeling a good enough buzz. I chug the last few sips, heading out of my room and down the stairs.

I jog lightly to the kitchen, placing the bottle on the counter before turning to the cupboard.

"Hey, Harry." Louis smiles coming into the kitchen.

Shit, but he looks damn hot... He's in his pyjama pants, a tight grey shirt that fits his body greatly, showing off his perfectly toned abs, and his beanie is hanging off his head, his glasses not on his face.

"What are you doing up so late?" He asks casually, placing his glass on the counter as he reaches for the fridge.

But before he can near the handle, I grab his shoulders, spinning him to face me.

"H-" he starts.

But I cut him off, pressing my lips hard onto his, making him back into the fridge. I let one of my hands cup the back of his neck, gripping his hair slightly, while I rest the other on his waist.

I move my lips harshly against his, expecting him to jerk away or push me off. But to my suprise, I find his lips moving back against mine.

I feel his hands press against my bare chest, and I pull back slightly, then press my lips to his neck, nipping at it.

"H-Ha-" he starts, but somehow, I don't know how, I know where his soft spot on his neck is.

So I gently nip at the area, generating a muffled moan from him, pressing my entire body to his.

I hear him inhale, then he freezes. I feel his entire body freeze, then he pushes me back.

Shit. He's just realised what we were doing.

"Have you been drinking?" He asks, as I step back.

"What are you talking about?" I ask, trying to act nonchalant.

"You reek of vodka." He states.

"I wasn't drinking." I say a bit defensively. My eyes flicker briefly to the empty bottle.

I curse as Louis' brow furrows in confusion, before he turns to see where I was looking. His hand snaps out as he grabs the large glass bottle.

"Did you drink all of this?!" He snaps, his eyes wide with horror.

"No." I say, a bit too quickly, so I add. "I spilt some?" Shit. That sounded like a question.

"Holy fuck, Harry, how are you still standing?" He asks, placing the bottle back down and shaking his head.

"Louis, I-"

"Fuck it, Harry, go lay down. You'll probably pass out or throw up soon if you don't." He says, leaning against the counter, dropping his head.

"Well then, fuck you." I snap, grabbing another bottle of something before running up to my room.

I knew it. He doesn't give a shit about me.

Fuck, but I'm an idiot.

How am I going to explain all this in the morning?