Playboy » L.S

Chapter 37

Louis' pov.

"It all confused the hell out of me, to be honest," I began, using my hands to gesture along with my words as I spoke. "Our relationship was.. strange. We were kind of fucked up - both in our own way, but sometimes I thought that maybe that's why we worked, you know?"

Dr. Mathews nodded along, her hands clasped together over the black, pencil-like skirt she was wearing. I was glad she wasn't like the stereotypical therapist that would constantly write things down on a stupid yellow notepad, mumbling "Ahh" or "Mhm" every two seconds.

"We had the best times together," I smiled fondly, my mind drifting off. "It wasn't just when he took me on pointless dates to the movies or a local diner, or when we'd touch each other in our own privacy. The most memorable moments for me was just simply lying in bed all day, playing with each other's fingers or hair and just talking until our jaws were sore. I liked that - we were so calm and it was just comfortable."

"But, as always, when there's good - there's also bad. I admit openly that I do have problems. I'm irrational and my mood swings are a bitch to deal with. I know Harry secretly hated them, but he's too nice to ever tell me that. I abused him in a way, but the good memories are the ones I always held onto, not the bad. I just hope he did the same."

"How exactly did you two break up?" She asks the one question I wanted to avoid, but knew it was inevitable to ignore. This was the main reason I was even here - it had to be addressed.

"We were at the club he works for, or at least he used to work there. I don't know if he does anymore," My gaze drops down to my lap where my fingers are twisting and pulling together, trying to get my mind off of the nerves that are slowing creeping to the surface. "I was drunk. I've had a problem with drinking after my father died."

"We'll discuss that another time, honey," She reassures me, smiling encouragingly. "Go on."

"Right, well.. I had this dream a while before it all went down. It was a very, very vivid nightmare and it haunted me. In this dream, I saw Harry having sex with another man, but that man didn't have a face. At the club on the night we broke up, I met somebody that connected directly to that man in my dream. He was wearing all the same clothes that were in my dream, too."

"That's extremely curious," She comments, her head tilting slightly to the side. "I've never heard of that happening before."

"It was hell," I clear my throat, my eyebrows knitting together as I tried to concentrate. "One second , Niall, the guy in my dream, was punching me, and the next he was kissing me or I was kissing him - I don't even know. I can barely remember that night or what exactly happened. The main thing I remember was hearing these heart-breaking sobs that made me shiver down to my bones. It was so, so sad.. but I later connected those sobs to Harry. Harry had walked in on me, his boyfriend at the time, kissing another man. He hit Niall and then, I'm pretty sure he hit me, too."

"Did you necessarily kiss Niall?" She asks.

"I don't know," I groan, "I could barely comprehend a single thing! Niall's punch mixed with my alcohol intake made my mind hazy. I know for a fact that I didn't return the kiss, but his lips still technically met mine."

"So, really, Harry just walked in at the worst possible moment?"

"Actually, in a way, I'm kind of glad he did walk in. If he hadn't, I don't know how far Niall would have made me go. I'm thankful that the only thing Niall did was kiss me. If we would've-.." I shiver at the thought, "I wouldn't be able to forgive myself, no matter how fucking incoherent I was."

"How long has it been since that night?" 

"Over three months."

"Have you two had any contact in that period of time?"