Chapter Seven

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WARNING!

NC-17

When Louis woke up that next morning, his stomach was in a knot. He had barely gotten any sleep the night before, and his eyes felt heavy and sticky. He laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering exactly what he should do.

His alarm blared again, and he silenced it, leaning up slowly, his head instantly becoming light.

He hated this, having such strong feelings for him, it was horrendously terrifying. And he had no clue how to go about something like this.

He considered calling Liam, but he realized he had no desire to really talk about it anymore.

He rubbed his eyes, then found himself shuffling out of his stuffy room, into the dim living area. He stood there for a while, looking over the quiet scene, taking note Harry wasn’t happily cooking in the kitchen, nor sitting in the leather recliner.

It was achingly quiet, and a horrible panic quaked through him. Where was he?

“Harry?” He croaked out, holding his breath and waiting for his slow voice, for him to just appear with that perfect dimpled smile.

But after no reply, Louis began a hectic search of his apartment, pitifully calling out his name as he cried. He left, Harry left.

Louis should have been relieved, it was unhealthy, whatever was going on between them. He’ll be better off without him.

But he knew that wasn’t at all the situation, Harry had been the best thing to ever happen to Louis.

So that’s why he wandered around the tiny apartment, weeping as he sluggishly pulled on clothes to go to work.

Work was hell to say the least, each minute felt like an hour as he sat there, holding back tears, his throat aching as he stared at the computer monitor. He silently watched the changing scenes, gripping the arms of his chair, as though it would keep him from crying.

He just wanted to know where Harry was, if he was okay. He leaned his head down onto the desk, letting out a long sigh.

“Lou?” Liam piped up behind him, and Louis hesitantly lifted his head, looking over his shoulder.

“Yeah?” He croaked out, holding his breath again.

“Have you got those reports do- whoa, man. Are you okay?” His voice took onto a concerned tone, and Louis just groaned, nodding less than convincingly.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Allergies.” He lied, turning back to face his computer.

“Oh.. okay. Had fun last night, man. Harry’s ‘mazing.” He whispered, nudging his shoulder, before saying a quick goodbye and heading back to his cubicle. Louis bent his head, letting out a short breath, closing his eyes as hot tears burnt their way up.

There was no winning with this pain, he didn’t want to go home because it now reminded him of Harry, and just a day before, he had been afraid to go home because Harry had been there. Louis decided he would walk home, to prolong the time he had to be holed up in the apartment. It was a 30 minute walk, and he needed the exercise. He would take a cab to work in the morning.

As he walked along with the bustling crowds of London, he felt a little more at ease, seeing other human beings and being apart of them made him feel slightly more alive.

He gazed through glossy glass windows at the newest electronic devices, or at old oldantiques. He was finally feeling better, until he walked passed a Pleatorial firm.

Its windows were lined with the androids, all doing something like cleaning or smiling blankly out on the crowds that passed by. Louis was so caught off he stumbled to a stop, looking at all of them. One extraordinarily tall and beautiful blonde girl with a huge bust and skinny waste looked down hollowly at him, smiling tartly and waving. But he could tell she was a robot, just by her overly fluid mannerisms and dark, void of emotion eyes.

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