Dancing and Dissension

Drop Everything For You

Louis blinked a couple times at Harry's words, letting them replay over and over again in his mind. "Dress up? Listen, Harry, it's not that serious. I stained my shirt and needed to change, this is all I had on me." He explained with a huff, his eyes not leaving Harry's as he got out of the car to come approach him. He glanced down as Harry plucked the material, scoffing at the comment. It was clear his patience was running thin. "You don't have to be such an asshole about it." He snapped at him, shoving his hand away with a glare. His frustration grew as Harry downplayed how difficult it was to get to him, letting out a little laugh. "You think it would be that easy, huh? Stupid Louis didn't think to drop it off at the studio, of course not. I waited outside every day since, trying to get it back to you. But don't worry, won't be afraid to just leave it outside next time and whatever happens to it, I don't care!" He didn't care about the small crowd forming either, unable to focus on anything else in the moment. Harry asking him why he cared went over his head, but it would certainly come back to haunt him later on. He had to take a deep breath to calm himself as Harry sent him rocking on his feet, digging his nails into the palm of his hand. "Ah, right. Drop all of my plans to deliver your belongings to you, got it. Whatever." He muttered, refusing to let Harry have the last word as he started to turn around for his car.

Harry stopped in his tracks and turned back around to Louis with a furrowed brow. "Plans? Please. Don't act you do anything outside of that studio, Louis," he glanced around. "What the fuck are you all staring at? Get on," He waved his hand at the onlookers, and they all seemed to go back to minding their own business for the first part. "Show up or not- I don't care anymore," he shrugged before turning for a final time and heading off. The rest of his day seemed to drag by, until he finally ended up back home. Alone. On his couch, sulking in his own self pity until he decided to get up and crack open a neglected cheap  bottle of wine in the back of his freezer that he had been putting off drinking because of the taste. He sipped straight from the bottle, heading to his bathroom for a cold plunge. He filled the tub with the coldest water it would go, and sunk down with a long breath out. He tilted his head back against the tile, closing his eyes. He couldn't stop thinking about everything; his past, Louis, whatever it was that was going to happen next. He wasn't sure if Louis was going to show, and he didn't even know what to say if he did- he sat for a moment wondering if he could ever just like someone like a normal human being- feel loved, and believe it. He felt everything welling up suddenly again, but before he would let tears fall he yelled and punch the side of the tub, his hand numb from the water anyways. He then sunk down completely, under the water now, letting the silence sooth him. After he was out, he wrapped a towel around his waist and left his dripping and soaked, heading back into the living room. He eyed the out of fashion digital clock, watching the red digits switch every minute, then eyeing the door. Eventually, he heard a knock. "A minute," he spoke out, before finding a pair of joggers and slipping into them, answering the door now. He saw Louis had changed clothes. After a moment of awkward silence, he did the only thing he could think of, and held the bottle of wine out to him as an offering.

Louis watched as Harry turned around, rolling his eyes at the comment. "As if you would have any idea what I do outside the studio." He mumbled, glancing back over at the rest of the onlookers as Harry told them to get on with their day. He had nothing left to say to Harry after that, watching him as he turned and drove off. He threw the rest of his smoothie into the garbage, no longer in the mood for any of it. He headed right home and the first thing he did was change out of Harry's shirt. It didn't matter how comfy it might've been or how annoyed Harry would be if he kept it on, he was over it. He changed into his own comfy clothes, crawling into bed and pulling the blankets tightly around himself. He stayed there for a while, debating if it was worth getting up. He didn't owe Harry anything. He could get a new t-shirt. The thoughts earned a frustrated groan from Louis, shoving his face into his pillow. He wasn't like that, even on his worst days. He had to return it. He allowed himself a few more minutes of time in bed, reluctantly pulling himself out of bed and retrieving the t-shirt. He still folded it neatly, grabbing a sharpie and post it note from his coffee table. 'You're welcome, asshole' was scribbled down on the brightly coloured square, pressing it on top of the shirt. He gave it a nod of approval, putting it into a bag and making his way to Harry's place. Minutes later he was knocking on the door, rolling his eyes a bit as he heard Harry's voice behind it. He waited patiently anyways, looking up at the man when he answered and letting silence fall over them. He let out a little scoff as Harry held the bottle of wine out to him, but he took it regardless, handing Harry the bag as he took a long sip from the bottle.