He Was My Because

The Start Of Him: 06

HARRY'S POV:

I grunted, trying to get him to roll off my feet, he just wouldn't budge. I looked at the door, I wished I would have locked it, but it was too late now, I didn't want to move him off of me.

I removed my feet from under him, sliding down onto the bathroom door, Louis laid on his back, his eyes closed.

"Get over here Idiot," I said, pulling his body towards me, he rested his head on my lap.

"Did you drive here?" I asked, Louis, grunted.

"No, Oll-" He tried saying, but somehow fell asleep.

"What?" I asked, trying to shake him. There was no point, he was dead asleep. I sat on the floor for what felt like hours, Louis was fast asleep, I caught myself running my hand through his hair, while I admired the paintings on the walls.

I looked down at Louis, my heart dropping when his eyes were wide open, staring up at me. I stopped running my hand through his hair, pulling myself up, fixing my posture, Louis broke his gaze from me.

"We should get you home," I say, feeling Louis try to sit up. He tried to stand up but failed falling back onto the ground. He ran his hands over his face,

"I don't have a home," Louis grunted, while I stood up. I reached my hand out, offering him a hand.

He picked himself up off the floor, grabbing onto my arm, he drunkenly fell into my arms. I picked him up, sweeping him off his feet, carrying him like a baby, he accepted my help.

"Where do you live," I asked, not struggling to hold the small boy in my arms. I knew we hated each other, but I was raised too well to leave someone alone in this state, no matter who it was.

"I don't know, I don't really-"

"Just take me anywhere," Louis grunted, clenching my shirt.

Where the hell was I supposed to take him? He won't tell me where he lives, what the fuck do I do with him?

I carried him out of the room, throwing my flannel over his face so that people wouldn't recognize me carrying him. I made my way downstairs, surprisingly there weren't many people left.

Eleanor had sent me a text saying she had left early along with Niall, apparently they had to leave because Niall puked all over his shirt and her.

I placed Louis down softly into the passenger seat of my car, my back feeling a bit of pressure from carrying him all the way to the car. I hopped in my car, staring it up.

I was tired, tomorrow was Saturday, my body was beat, I just wanted to lay in my bed. My mom was working a shift tonight, it was a Friday, so it meant more emergencies, so at least I wouldn't have to explain to her.

Gemma was out with her friends at a sleepover, so that meant I had the house alone. I pulled into my driveway, shutting off my car. I climbed out of the car, walking over to the passenger seat.

Louis complained and cursed at me when I pulled him out of the car. I helped him walk into my house, while I struggled with my keys to open the door.

Finally, after what felt like a century, I opened my door, stepping inside and kicking my shoes off at the entrance, I helped Louis remove his shoes.

I struggled, trying to make my way up the stairs and into my bedroom, accidentally dropping Louis harshly on the bed. He grunted, rolling over in my bed, deciding to sleep in the middle.

What the hell was I doing? Suddenly Louis was stripping himself of his clothes.

"Louis, what are you doing?" I laugh, watching him throw his shirt across the room, along with his jeans.

He slipped under the covers, making space for me on the bed, "Nev..eer sleep, with jee-ans," Louis slurred his speech, quickly drifting into sleep.

He looked peaceful, he was only in his boxers, he left his socks on the edge of my bed. I knew he was going to regret this in the morning, and I would be facing a hell of wrath from him. I took off my own clothing, slipping into some sweats, before placing myself on the bed.

I laid on the sheets, at the very edge, leaving Louis some space. I felt my eyes starting to get heavy, making me drift into sleep.

One hour later:

I blinked, trying to adjust my vision, Louis' knees were pressed into my back, my leg practically hanging off the bed. I grunted, flipping onto my side, scooting Louis over.

"Hi," Louis mumbles, his breath smelling like weed. I stared at him, even in the dark his blue eyes still seemed to sparkle.

"How do you feel?" I ask, putting my hand under my pillow, his face only inches away.

"I'm still high, or drunk, I'm not sure, why am I here..?" Louis says, making me grow nervous.

"I know you hate me, but I didn't want to leave you there, alone, I'm better than that," I say, Louis, let out a huff, his hand landing on my waist.

I flinched at his touch, his hand gripping my waist, pulling me closer. His eyes looked into mine, as he trailed his hand from my waist, up to my bicep. We looked at each other for a couple of seconds, Louis running his fingers up my bicep, and onto my shoulder.

In a matter of seconds, Louis' lips were on mine. His kiss sent shivers down my spine, giving me goosebumps as the kiss intensified. His lips tasted sweet, the little hint of weed on his tongue, along with alcohol.

I kissed him back passionately, he found his way onto my lap. I gripped his waist with both of my hands, pinning him down onto my lap, as he kissed me.

He kissed with desire, his tongue finding its ways inside my mouth. I felt butterflies form in my stomach, at the feeling of our lips moving in sync with each other. It's like he was perfectly molded for my lips.

His body fit perfectly into my arms, the way he ran his hands through my hair, nibbling at my bottom lip, making me lose my breath. I found myself gasping for air, Louis devouring my lips, straddling my lap in only his boxers.

I felt a cold substance on my cheek, and a salty taste on my lips. I pulled away, Louis turned his face away, wiping his face,

"Are you okay?" I ask, still holding onto his waist. I heard him sniffle, still wiping his face, not looking at me. One of my hands left his waist, and up to his face. I held his chin with my thumb, making him look at me.

He was crying. He looked broken, I couldn't tell where something went wrong.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I asked, caressing his cheek, wiping his tears away. Louis flopped onto the bed beside me, looking up at the ceiling.

He turned his body towards me, burying his face in my chest, I held him while he sobbed himself back to sleep, running my hand through his hair.