Don't Let Me Go || l.s.

Chapter 16 - Unfaithful

Harry finally reached the bar, sighing in relief as he did so. He was just glad that before Harry left, Zayn made him a fake I.D. to give to the bouncers outside of the club. All Harry needed was a drink. Just one.

But the plan of only having one alcoholic beverage didn’t last long, because the bartender who had blond hair and oceanic blue eyes, offered Harry drinks on the house.

And Harry accepted them gladly.

After five too many drinks, Harry found himself in the middle of the dancing, hormonal bodies. His hips swayed sensually against that of another man’s and he let out a groan whenever feeling his jeans getting tighter by the second. 

“Don’t drop that thun thun.

Don’t drop that thun thun.”

Harry let out a breathless giggle when feeling a pair of lips on his neck, sucking roughly at the smooth skin to try and break it. “How about we take this back to my place?” The voice whispered in his ear.

Being drunk, Harry’s mind was clouded with one thing that he wanted, and only one thing.

The decision he makes next, will possibly be the biggest regret of his life.

~ * ~

Harry shifted slightly, groaning as he felt a sharp pain in one of the more private regions of his body. He rubbed his eyes, letting out a loud yawn before trying to shift a bit more, but quickly stiffened when feeling an arm draped over his side.

Slowly and cautiously, Harry turned his aching head to the right, eyes widening whenever he saw a sleeping figure with blond hair right next to him. 

Naked.

“No, no, please God . . . no.” Harry whispered while slowly raising the sheet that was laid over him, biting his lip so roughly that it almost drew blood.

He was also naked.

“Shit. Fuck. Damn. No, no, no.” Harry scrambled out of the bed, ignoring the pain in his bum and the throbbing pain in his head. He saw the figure shift in the bed and a few seconds later, the movement stopped, quiet snores filling the room.

Harry pulled on his boxers, hopping around on one foot as he slid his jeans up. “C’mon,” he groaned, thanking the heavens as he finally got his jeans up and buttoned. He pulled on his shoes and slipped on his shirt, seeing his phone laying on the ground next to the bed. Quickly, Harry snatched it and made his way out of the bedroom and into an unfamiliar living room. The living room of the guy he shagged last night whenever he got piss drunk. 

The living room he had staggered through the night before, lip-locked with a guy other than Louis.

** 

“I like your lips,” Harry giggled as the other guy led him through the the spacious flat, their lips pressing together in a drunken kiss every few seconds.

“I like your everything.” The other guy breathed out while tugging on Harry’s hand and bringing him into the bedroom, not having the patience or the time to shut the door behind him.

**

Harry pulled out his phone as he walked out of the flat -or apartment, as they call them in America- unlocking it as he saw checked through what he had missed.

37 missed calls;

2 calls from a number he didn’t recognize.

3 calls from Gemma.

12 calls from Mum.

20 missed calls from Boyfriend<3.

Plus, he had many text messages, mostly consisting of ones from his mother and Louis, and 11 voice mails. Louis had left 6, his mum had left 4 and Gemma left 1.

“Harry, love, where are you? Did you leave to see Gemma before I got up? Let me know. I love you.”

“Gemma said you aren’t over, where are you Harry?”

“Answer this phone right now! Are you alright? Where are you?!”

“Please . . . Harry, baby, come back to the hotel or Gemma’s. We’re all worried about you . . .” In the last voice mail, he could tell that his mother had been crying. But then Harry stopped dead in his tracks whenever he reached outside of the apartment complex, listening to the rest of the last voice mail his mother had left. “Louis is hysterical, Harry. I’m afraid he’s even more worried than me. Jay called and told me he’s in a horrible condition over you. Call me back, please.”

And it wasn’t even 5 seconds after he listened to the voice mail, that he was ringing Louis’ phone.

Ring.

Ring.

Ri-

“H-Harry?” Louis’ broken voice spoke quietly, and Harry could tell the other boy on the other end of the line was trying hard to not cry. 

“Louis, baby, are you okay?”

“I should be asking your dumb ass the same question! You go missing from the hotel and don’t answer any of our calls or texts a-and I was . . . I was so worried.” Louis’ breathing became intense and irregular, so Harry calmed him with a few sweet mumbles.

“I love you so much, Louis. And I miss you.” Harry spoke as he wandered along the sidewalk, trying to find which way went back to the hotel he was staying at.

“Harry?”

Harry hummed in response, grinning from ear to ear as he saw the hotel down a few blocks, straight ahead. But the grin was quickly wiped from his face as quickly as it came, hearing Louis’ next words. 

“Next time you’re fucking another guy, make sure you don’t have your phone in your jeans so you don’t pocket-call your boyfriend, you prick.”

And with that, Harry was left with silence on the other line as he took his phone away from his ear, seeing that Louis had hung up--leaving Harry speechless.

A/N: I understand if you want to douse me in gasoline and set me up in flames after that itty bitty, teensy weensy plot twist.