Friends. // l.s.

Chapter 6 - "Why thank you young Harold."

Louis' POV

I woke up the next morning and my bed felt uncomfortably empty. Something was missing but I couldn't put my finger on it. I felt cold and shivered slightly. It was odd. Somehow, I was very shaken up and I tried to calm down myself by massaging my temples with my the tips of my fingers. The right side of my bed was weirdly warm, why was it warm? Like someone had slept there... with me. The blanket was draped over my hip and strangly pushed over to me as if the person pushed it aside to leave the sheets but covered me up afterwards. Nervousness took over me and my breath hitched, this was wrong. Something was wrong.

I sat up and looked around, resembling a meerkat, trying to find out what had happened a few hours ago and why I felt anything but good. I concentrated on remembering the events as it suddenly it hit me. Memories from yesterday night flooded my mind and I facepalmed myself in shock.

Harry had thrown a big house party with a crowded kitchen. Harry had been wasted. Harry had been making out with some chick in my bed. I had acted like a jealous boyfriend. I had kicked her out. I had helped Harry go back to his room. Harry's bed had been full of piss. All the other rooms had been occupied. Harry had slept in this room in my bed with me.

Oh my skittles. The memories of Louise and Harry snogging popped up in my head and the strong urge to rip her limbs off returned. The fact that they've been in my room, made me wanna kill her even more.

Surely, Harry was one at fault as well but he had been wasted and probably didn't mean it. Yet, I scrunched my nose in disgust. This couldn't be happening. Idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot. I repeated and mentally banged my head against a wall.

Another thought struck me. Where was he now? I searched the sheets for him and threw my pillows across the room. Those sheets probably needed a good washing at 100 degrees now after he had touched them. I continued looking for him hectically but I couldn't find him, he was gone. Bloody stupid is what I was.

The worst part, it was all my fault. I had let him sleep in here. Sadly, what was done was done. I hated him, why hadn't I just kicked him out of my room just as I had done with the Louise girl? I couldn't help feeling... rejected? Like, a dirty one night stand, even though Harry had only slept in my bed and not done anything like that with me, of course.

I rubbed my eyes and sighed. He wasn't here anymore anyway and I needed a shower. A long ass hot steaming shower. Lazily, I got rid of my clothes, I grabbed a towel and left my room in my birthday suit. I tied the towel around my waist and just as I passed Harry's room, I felt a sense of curiousity taking over.

The door was cracked open a little and Harry was nowhere in sight. It wasn't illegal to take a tiny look, was it? I just wanted to find out if Harry's bed was still dirty and stained with urin, I didn't even know why. Opening the door further, I finally peeked inside the room and realized that everything was cleaned up and the filthy sheets replaced with freshly washed ones. Wow, he had already taken care of it. Somehow surprising. Or well, probably a maid.

I browsed the rest of his bright room further and took in Harry's daily environment. In the centre of the giant room was his bed which I had seen before but apart from that everything else was completely unexplored.

Of course, in one corner was his music stuff and instruments placed. He had four differently ms of guitars and a piano, or rather a keyboard. This was obviously the source of the disruptive music that I had to endure most nights. I imagined him sitting on the black music stool, one of the guitars in his hands as he played it while singing the familiar tune which he always sang and I never seemed to figure out why. A smile crept onto my face and I noticed that I had somehow walked deeper into the room, now fully invading his privacy.