pure fiction // ziam

eighty five

Shock. Complete and utter shock.

I take out the bottle of vodka from under Harry's bed and see that it's halfway empty.

How long has he been drinking? Why is he drinking? What's going on? Wait, maybe this isn't even his. There has to be a logical explanation for this. I can't just assume.

Breathe Louis, breathe.

I look at the time and Harry should be home from Taco Bell any second now. What am I going to do? Do I even bring it up? Is this a conversation we need to have? I know I really should talk to him about it but how is he going to feel when I tell him? Is he going to yell at me? Is he going to break down in tears and fall into my arms, apologizing for becoming what he hates the most?

There is so much to do, yet there seems to be no time at all.

I hear the front door open and close and Harry footsteps downstairs.

"I'm home darling!" Harry calls out.

I immediately put the bottle back in the shoe box under the bed. Who would of thought that there would be alcohol inside a shoe box?

"I'm already in your bed!" I shout back and I could hear the footsteps on the stairs. I get into position as Harry gets closer to the bedroom.

There have been so many sexual fantasies fulfilled in here. And another one is about to be realized.

• • • •

"Do you want the burrito or the crunchwrap?" Harry asks.

"Do you even have to ask?"

"You're right" He says and hands me both.

We sit in silence, just the sound of rustling papers and chewing filling the room. You can clearly tell the air is tensed and Harry's mood changes completely.

"You found it didn't you?" Harry asks abruptly.

"Found what exactly?"

"Louis don't pretend you don't know. I can feel you be tensed from across the table"

I sigh, "Listen, I was just looking around your room like always and I can across the shoe box thinking you got new shoes and I just—"

"Louis I'm just going to say this once and we never bring it up again, okay?"

I nod my head.

"I. Don't. Have. A. Problem."