young and beautiful || larry s.

chapter 30

"I'm hungover as fuck and utterly heartbroken. I'm allowed to be as weird as I want," Louis groans, immediately wrapping himself up in blankets and shutting his eyes from the sunlight that is too much.

Niall shakes his head, glancing once at the phone in his hand before smoothing his features and sighing.

"Well then, go on," he says, taking a seat at the end of the couch, settling Louis' feet onto his lap. "What happened? Talk to me and then... Then I have to talk to you."

Louis peers at him from beneath the arm he's just slung over his eyes. "Why do you need to talk to me?" he asks suspiciously.

Instantly Niall's demeanor changes as he shifts uncomfortably, refusing to meet Louis' gaze. His grip on his phone tightens and he knocks it against his knee unconsciously.

Something's wrong. Yay.

If Louis currently didn't feel like a medieval sewage system, he would absolutely be consumed with worry and weariness. Maybe even be somewhere near livid or hysterical, given the fact that Niall never worries or hesitates or feels whatsoever, so whatever's gotten his panties in a twist must be significant.

As is though, he just closes his eyes and swallows down some bile.

"You first," Niall says, clearing his throat. "Where did you and Harry get to last night? What happened? Why'd you two leave?"

"I didn't go anywhere with Harry, you twat," he croaks. "I left on me own! I swear, you are the most oblivious, self-centered-"

"You most definitely left with Harry," Niall says, looking at Louis as if he's crazy.

He quirks an eyebrow. "I think I would know."

"Would you?" Niall counters. "Your current state suggests you were pretty fucked up."

Louis sighs, too tired to for this, wreaking too much of regret for this. "Ireland. I'm positive I didn't leave with Harry. I think you're the one that was fucked up."

"Right. Well. I guess since he left the same time you did, I just assumed." He shrugs.

And that sparks Louis.

Left the same time Louis did?

"He left?"

"Yeah. When you did. Followed you right out the door," Niall says as if it's obvious, tapping his phone against the armrest of the couch.

"He what?" Louis asks faintly, bewildered.

Almost immediately the wheels begin turning. Harry followed him out the door? Harry followed him? Harry?

"Yeah. He was keeping an eye on you all night. I figured you two had plans or summat since you're, like, dating or whatever."

"We're not dating," Louis says hollowly, head spinning.

Harry followed him?

Did he follow him the whole fucking night? Is that why...

Is that why he was there? Why he found him?

Oh god.

"You're not?" Niall's surprised voice interrupts, his cornflower blue eyes wide and cloudless. "But...didn't he stay here the other night? And you went to lunch and-"

"We're not dating. I'm in love with him. But we're not dating. Don't rub it in any more, Niall. I'm already in a very dark place."

And fuck, Louis is reeling.

Harry followed him when he left. Harry followed him the whole fucking night. He saw. He saw Louis stumbling around and sticking his tongue down how many peoples' throats? He saw him with that guy. He saw him drooling and drugged up and vomiting and maybe even crying, for fuck's sake. He followed him.