Lost In The Noise

Chapter 3

When Louis wakes up, it comes as no surprise that his tear ducts feel like they've been through a year-long drought while his whole body aches with especially a soreness to his wrist, chest, and throat.

Leaning onto his forearms, a piercing headache shoots to the front of his head. He should've just drank because it's the same effects of a hangover, but isn't actually one. Reaching for his phone, Louis falls back onto his pillow and squints his eyes at the abrupt intrusion.

He closes his eyes and sighs. Why is life so painful?

Reopening his eyes and now also his phone, he scrolls through his messages, Lottie saying she went to work with Liam to see what he does, whereas Zayn is stuck at work doing a commission piece, while Beth had an unexpected shift. Thank god he doesn't work today.

The time is two in the afternoon and Louis wants to close his eyes again. There's too much going on and it's making his head even more achy.

Getting up would require so much effort, but also...bathroom...and food. Louis has to pee and he wants pancakes. Unfortunately, he's probably restricted to cereal since he's technically banned from the stove, according to Liam and Zayn, and if they ever found out he went against that ban, he might be lectured...again. That's just not something he wants.

Lazily clambering off the bed, he rubs at his eyes, the dried-up tears making him grimace as they crumble off.

He goes pee, the haplessness of holding it in making it stream out quickly and he washes his hands before heading to the kitchen. Only making it two steps away from the cereal cabinet, he hears a loud three knocks against the door.

Pouting to himself for a moment, he sighs and brushes a hand through his hair, yanking the door open, the cold air (and the sight of Harry) hitting him like a sack of potatoes. Louis no longer likes potatoes.

Harry's green eyes conflict with the darkened, winter sky and his simple outfit of a coat and jeans make him look even taller than Louis remembers.

Louis rolls his eyes. In no instance will he let himself be so affected by Harry. The Harry who left him, Louis reminds himself. "What?" He questions, hoping his tone is enough of a hint that he's not up for whatever this is right now. It's nothing actually. This is nothing.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" Harry questions back, his stupid, perfect smirk still smacked of those puffy, red lips. Louis truly hates him.

"And why would I do that?"

Harry shrugs, brushing his body past Louis' anyways. Louis might cry. He just wanted to enjoy a morning (late-afternoon) bowl of cocoa puffs, but now he has to deal with this. And this is not fun or enjoyable. In fact, his appetite has disappeared once again. Except...well, looking at Harry, his appetite for something else may have—MAY HAVE—increased.

Looking around, Harry kicks off his shoes and plants himself in front of a shelf that has many, many photos of family, events, and anything that was at some point significant in the lives of Louis, Liam, and Zayn. "I came to drop off keys," He holds up a set that looks identical to Zayn's and jingles them in the air before taking off his coat and laying it on the couch. "Also came by to talk to you."

Oh lovely. But no. Louis has to forcefully pull his eyes away from Harry's torso that's fit with a white, almost sheer shirt. His desolate mind doesn't feel like dealing with Harry today.

"I'll take the keys and you can leave," Louis explains, expectantly holding out his hand. "We're not talking."

Harry purses his lips, not in an angry way, but in a smug way. "Fine," He says, stepping closer, his hand with the keys raises a bit and wiggles them again, the clanking noise amplified in the silent room. "Come and get them then."