To Be So Lonely || l.s. ✓

Chapter 5

"Harry? Where the fuck are you?" A panicked Irish voice rung out through Harry's phone, causing Harry to pull it away with a grimace.

"At home."

"Does the meeting ring any bells?" He heard Liam add.

"Yeah, I'm ill." He mumbled.

"And you didn't think to let us know?"

"I'm sorry, wasn't thinking." He closed his eyes, taking a sip from his beer. When he said he was ill, it wasn't really physical. He was just having one of those days, one where he couldn't bring himself to interact with anyone. He was feeling incredibly anxious and barely managed to drag himself off the sofa- where he had managed to fall asleep for an hour- in order to get a drink. His eyes flickered up to the clock as someone sighed on the other end of the phone. 10:41 am. He should not be drinking this early, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Okay, well we can reschedule it, or-"

"Don't bother, just tell me what happens."

"Are you sure?"

"Mhm."

"Alright, well, bye then. Get better soon."

"Thank you, see you." Harry hung up with a sigh of relief, his eyes settling on the stuffed bear on the armchair opposite him. His mum had bought it for him a couple of years ago when she realised he wasn't his usual happy self. He frowned at it for a couple of seconds as it seemed to stare back before huffing and leaning forward to grab it, hugging it to his chest.

//

Harry groaned at the persistent knocking on his front door but made no move to open it. He was now surrounded by beer bottles, well, only around 9, but he couldn't be bothered with stepping over them to get to the door, that's what he told himself at least.

He took another sip of his current bottle, almost spitting it out as the front door swung open, he quickly grabbed an empty one, ready to throw it at the intruders head.

"Didn't know that still worked." He heard an Irish voice say, "woahhh, fuckin' hell, are you tryna kill me or something?" He quickly put his hands up as he rounded the corner and spotted Harry armed with his bottles.

"Thought you were an intruder." Harry murmured apologetically.

"What kinda intruder knocks you idiot?"

"Well you just came in."

"You didn't open the door." He retaliated. "Surely you heard the knocking. I thought it was quite loud."

Harry rolled his eyes, settling back onto the sofa, "what are you even doing here?"

"Brought you soup, Liam's here as well."

"Oh, thank you."

"Fucking hell." Liam murmured as he entered the living room, "are you drunk?"

Niall only then noticed the empty bottles which littered the floor. "That's why it stinks of alcohol in here."

"'m not drunk."

"Are you trying to get drunk?"

"Not exactly."

"Well you're going about it the right way." Liam murmured. "What time did you start drinking?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business."

"Don't you have a show tonight? You can't be drunk." Liam scolded.

"You and Louis always drunk on stage. It's no different."