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Two days for the big match and Louis cannot concentrate. His legs stopped working, magically. His coach was literally showering him with scoldings but nothing is going into his brain, everything is just a constant rewind of Harry's hurt looks, how he made Harry cry, everything is just Harry, he didn't take care of him, well.

Over the past couple of days, he tried talking to Harry, heck, he tried texting, kik-ing, twitter DMs, e-mails, notes, letters and what not. He was ignored. And nothing else in this world could hurt him as much. They went from "Riches" to "Rags", something like that.

He texted Harry half a million times;

"Baby...."

"I'm sorry."

"Very sorry."

"I love you more than anything in this world, more than Lamborghinis. I swear."

"I miss you."

"One last chance."

"Babe..."

"Harry... please. Talk to me, fuck, I miss you. Give me another chance, if I fuck it up one more time.....never ever talk to me."

And so on.

Louis tiredly reached home and fell back on his bed, making his thoughts wander as usual.

He doesn't know when he started crying. He held his and Harry's picture frame- 2nd month anniversary gift from Harry. He held on to it tightly against his chest and sobbed, he wanted the pain in his heart to go away through crying. His heart aches so much with guiltiness and love.

They were so happy and Louis wants to turn back time. So badly.


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