I Hate You (Larry Stylinson) ✅

40. goodbyes

Harry's POV 

September 15

"Waaaaaaa!" 

Great, James is crying again. Beautiful.

It's three in the fucking morning, and this is the third time he has cried in the past hour. Groaning, I get up and head to his room to check on him. As I grab him from the bassinet and cradle him in my arms, I try to ignore the empty feeling gnawing away at the pit of my stomach. 

Sometimes, if I focus on James enough, I forget about how lonely I am. But now isn't one of those times. All it takes is one look at his blue eyes to send me spiraling deep into my thoughts, removing me from the tiny nursery and sending me backwards in time, to a place that wasn't so dark. 

Twenty eight days ago, I saw Louis for the last time. If I had known that's how things were going to end, I probably would have dressed nicer. I would have worn that new cologne I bought. I would have said something more meaningful. I would have told him I loved him. 

But I didn't know. I had no fucking idea. 

Louis and I had just gotten back from a date at the theatre together. We saw the play "Wicked" and had an amazing time, or at least I thought so. 

I remember holding Louis' hand at the end of the movie. He squeezed it and kissed me on the forehead. 

"This was so fun," he whispered into my ear. "Thank you for taking me, love."

We left the theatre hand in and hand and went to a diner across the street with live music. I ordered a burger and fries and he got a chicken sandwich. 

"You're so gorgeous," he told me as we dug into our meals. 

"So are you," I replied. 

During that night, there wasn't a moment that his eyes weren't lit up, that he wasn't smiling. 

It was the first time in a long time that we both just forgot about our demons and enjoyed the night, reveling in each other's presence rather than the toxic thoughts surging in our minds. 

When the band started doing pop song covers, Louis slid into the booth next to me, wrapping his arm around me. 

"I asked them to do this one," he giggled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "While you were in the bathroom. I know it's your favorite."

The song began to play and I kissed his neck, laughing.

"When your legs don't work like they used to before

And I can't sweep you off of your feet

Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love

Will your eyes still smile from your cheeks..."

"You're the best, Louis," I said, nuzzling my face into the crook of his neck. 

He didn't reply.

When we got back to my flat, I expected him to spend the night. It was already three in the morning, and Liam's place is a thirty minute ride across town. 

But when I started to change into my pajamas and lie down on my bed, Louis stood in the center of the room, looking down at his shoes. 

"What's wrong, baby?" I asked. "You don't have to get undressed in front of me if you don't want to."

Louis met my eyes for a moment, staring at me, and then shook his head abruptly. "No, um, it's not about that. We just... I think we need to talk."

"Sure," I say, sliding onto the edge of the bed and taking a seat. "What's it about."

I pat the side of the bed, but Louis doesn't join me. He just stands there, staring at his shoes again.