R O O M 1 9 7 // Harry Styles & Louis Tomlinson Edition

Twenty-Four

~Tuesday 31st January 2017~

10:56 am

The January sun forces itself through the green curtains of Harry's bedroom, landing on the bare skin of his back, and slowly waking him up from the unbearable heat. His eyes are tired, as they struggle to open, and his jaw aches as he turns his head, facing away from the bright window and over at the space beside him. It's only now that he realises that the mattress next to him is bare, empty of any sign of Louis. He moves his hands over the empty sheets, but they are cold, and so is the pillow. He sits up now, rubbing at his eyes and looking around the room.
His clothes from last night are neatly folded at the end of the bed, instead of on the floor where he left them. And, when he exits the bedroom and searches the whole apartment, there are signs of Louis' tidying everywhere, from the organised clothes hamper in the bathroom, to the water bottles lined up beside the kitchen sink. He looks up at the clock, not realising that it's this late, and decides to get dressed.
He makes his way to The Magnolia, in no real rush, strolling along the streets of Chicago, unsure whether Louis leaving the apartment early is a good thing or not. When he finally reaches the hotel, avoiding Mr Peckham's hateful stare, he discovers that it is certainly not a good thing.
As Harry opens the door to Room 197, he is surprised to find Louis' suitcase in the centre of the floor, full to the top with his clothes. The business man stands by his desk, rummaging through paperwork, and fitting them tightly into his briefcase. His laptop is already packed away, and as Harry closes the door behind him, he notices that Louis' wedding ring is on the edge of the desk, laying flat against the cold glass.

"Where are you going?" Harry asks, as he moves into the centre of the room, to stand closer to Louis. Louis looks up at him for a split second, before pushing more documents into his briefcase and clamping the lid down tight.
"I need to pack up all my stuff at the house." Louis starts, busying himself with the zip of his massive suitcase. "And then, I need to find a new place to live. Eleanor needs space for the baby, and I didn't like that house, anyway." He adds, chuckling at the last part, but Harry doesn't see the humour.
"And, then you're coming back, right?" Harry pleads, as Louis stands, bringing his suitcase to stand upright on it's large wheels. Louis looks over at Harry, from where he stands behind him, pulling the handle of his suitcase up and placing his briefcase and laptop bag beside it.
"No." Louis answers quickly, shaking his head, before moving to the bathroom and grabbing his reading glasses from beside the sink, shoving them into his pocket so he doesn't forget them. Harry studies his movements carefully, watching him move back and forth, until finally he stops, stood in front of the young boy.

"Look, these last few months have been amazing," Louis starts, and Harry already feels that familiar sense of dread crawl up his legs and into the pit of his stomach. "but, my business is deteriorating because of it. My work should be my main priority right now, and for too long I've let distractions get in the way." Louis claims. There's something strange in his voice. He speaks as if he's saying goodbye to a good friend after a week on vacation together. This isn't the voice of a man removing himself from his lover's life.
"So, you're...breaking up with me?" Harry mumbles, reluctant to say the words. But, this is how he feels. After just over a month of being together pretty much everyday and sharing things with each other that they've never shared with anyone else, this feels like a break up - especially after last night. "Whatever happened to 'I'm still here'?" He adds, his voice louder, bolder as a slow burning anger pumps through his veins. This feels like a heart-breaking betrayal ready to rip poor Harry apart by the seams.

"Harry, we were never a couple!" Louis argues, shaking his head and moving to the bedroom, collecting his coat from the bed and stretching his arms into the sleeves. "Stop making this difficult. I mean, you never expected that I would stay here with you, did you?!" He adds, his voice a cold ice that freezes Harry solid. After doing the zip of his jacket up, Louis grabs the handle of his suitcase and begins to roll it towards the door, his briefcase and his laptop bag in his other hand.
"You don't have to leave." Harry pleads, in one last ditch effort to keep him here, on the verge of tears. He has cried too much these past few days over things that should have never affected him. He should have never made himself so vulnerable, so open to this new pain he's experiencing.
"I do, Harry." Louis answers, opening the door and standing in the threshold, looking back at Harry as he speaks. "I've already checked out and the next occupant of this room will be here in twenty minutes." He adds, before turning his face away, and walking down the corridor, dragging his suitcase behind him. The door closes with a click, and Harry remains where he is, stuck, for a moment or two, battling through every conflicting emotion.

When he finally moves, he grabs the silver wedding band from the desk and rushes out of Room 197. The elevator doors close just as he approaches them, so he runs for the stairs, sprinting down each step with a fearful ferocity. His vision blurs as the angry tears make their presence known, but he carries on descending the stairs, rushing past guests and colleagues, as he blinks the tears away.
He reaches the bottom step, just as Louis is about to exit the large glass doors. Harrison is outside, placing the large suitcase into the trunk of the car, as Louis wraps his fingers around the golden handle of the door.
"Mr Tomlinson!" Harry roars, making everyone in the lobby turn and look at him, as his thundering voice bounces off the walls surrounding them. Mr Peckham looks up from his paperwork, as Louis snaps his head back to face the raging man. Louis' eyes are red and bloodshot, his cheeks damp with tears, but Harry takes no notice, storming over to his counterpart, his eyes wild with fury.
"You forgot something." Harry speaks, his voice vibrating through the small space between their two bodies, as he throws the wedding ring in Louis' face. The business man tries to catch it, but his hands shake with a mixture of fear and anguish, so it hits him on the nose, before falling to the floor. He looks up to Harry for a moment, his angered features unchanging, before bending down to retrieve the ring, placing it in his pocket and turning away from Harry, shuffling out of the building as everyone stares, feeling three inches tall as he exits.

Harry's eyes are stuck on Mr Tomlinson, watching the young man climb into the back of the car, through the dirty glass doors of The Magnolia, waiting for Harrison to pull away from the busy sidewalk. He does eventually, driving away slowly, as Harry catches a last glimpse of Mr Tomlinson, his head held low, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.
Harry turns back towards the lobby, and notices that everybody is still stuck watching. They all jump into action, resuming what they were doing, shuffling along as if they've just been caught red handed.
The rage inside Harry's body is still apparent, as his breathing pattern refuses to slow, and his palms start to sweat. He moves towards the steps, going to collect his few things from Room 197, but Mr Peckham's authoritative glare makes him stop in his tracks. He scoffs at his boss, shaking his head in disbelief and more anger, as the old man crosses his arms against his chest and nods towards the door.

Harry bites his tongue, shaking his head again, as he turns for the door, making his last exit from this godforsaken building. The outside air is cold and suffocating as Harry steps out, aware of Peckham's eyes burning a hole in the back of his head. Fresh tears sting his eyes as they mix with the chilly air, as he shoves his hands deep into his pockets, and looks to the right, scanning the street for Harrison's car. There it is, stuck at a red light, in the middle of a mess of traffic.
Harry looks at the black Jaguar for a second longer, his eyes lingering on the far away car, before he turns, walking in the direction of his apartment, his feet tired and slow as if they have weights attached to them, dragging along the hard concrete, making scratches in the sidewalk as he walks.
The world feels as if it's lost it's orbit, spinning uncontrollably around and around in circles, as Harry tries to walk in a straight line. His eyelids still hold the tears from these last few terrible days, as he feels the movement of the Earth under his feet, twisting and turning in slow, nauseating spirals.

Mr Tomlinson's sudden betrayal stings Harry, making his chest tight, his mind dizzy and his soul empty. It's a toxic mix of so many emotions, so many feelings, that make their way to the pit of his stomach as he approaches his street, holding it all in.
It's rage and anger and the feeling of being abandoned. But, it's also grief and loss and sadness that he's gone. It's fear over his employment, guilt over his sister's death.
The feeling of humiliation that he let his alcohol abuse last for so long, and the feeling of weakness for allowing his infatuation rule his life for the last month.
His undeniable need to be loved by someone has let him down again, proving to be one of his biggest demons, ready to pull him back into that deep dark hole over and over.

And, it's only when he's in his apartment hours later that he lets all of these emotions out, letting them overwhelm him, fragile helpless cries bursting through his lips, and enveloping him.
He sits on the floor, leaning against the dark oak dresser, Gemma's photo laying in it's frame beside him, his phone in his hands, open on the pages of text messages he has sent to her, as he sobs through the silence and the darkness, stuck in the same place that his story had started, all that time ago...

Chapter Image by @melmanpur on Instagram