Chapter 16

19.8K 623 794
                                    

A/N Yeah, it's a day early, but oh well.

BTW, I just bought the new album...it's like...if songs were orgasms, that's what they would sound like.

And on the side is what I think of when I talk about Aubrey. Still looking for a good picture of somebody that reminds me of what I see for Becca.

Ironically, while looking, I saw a picture of Zayn.

That is all!

Love you!

***********************************

Louis's POV

I was soooo happy Harry was coming home today. Quite frankly, I was getting bored and lonely by myself. Niall and Liam were always together and Zayn was doing whatever Zayn does. As if on cue, the front door happened.

"Hazza!" I squealed, attacking him.

"Hazza?" he chuckled.

"I dunno. You needed a nickname, so I gave you one," I explained.

"Alright then, Boobear," he retorted, "You know, I'm surprised the flat's in one piece. No wild parties?"

"Nope! I was too busy being lonely and bored," I replied happily. He laughed and went into his room. I wanted to follow him, but I knew the second I went in there, it would hurt. Seeing everything different, no trace of Aubrey ever being there.

So I stayed on the couch and waited for him to come back out. He was understanding, he knew I detested even having to look in there.

Sometimes I scared myself with how normal I was again.

I was completely aware how hateful and depressed I had been. I knew Zayn was skeptical about my sudden change, and I was also.

It felt funny to laugh and joke around instead of screaming and crying hysterically. Sure, I had my moments where I'd burst into tears, but it was nowhere near as often as it had been.

I wondered why Harry affected me so much. Something about his amazing smile and glittering green eyes just made me so much happier.

"So, do you want me to make something for dinner? Or do you wanna go out?" he asked, coming back out.

"Mmm...I wanna stay in. Make me food. I'm hungry," I ordered playfully. Everyone knew how terrible I was at cooking. I'd once even managed to mess up a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. That was not an expirience I would like to relive.

"How does spaghetti sound?" he asked.

"Fine, anything. I'm hungry," I repeated. He rolled his eyes.

"What did you ever do without me here to cook for you?" he laughed

I smiled, but inside, I knew the painful truth. I hadn't eaten after Aubrey's death, not unless somebody physically forced me to. And even then, I threw it back up a lot. The other boys had barely gone a day without coming over to try and get me up and about. It hadn't worked for about three weeks. That's when management got involved and scheduled the damn interview that I started crying at. I gave them an earful after that. They learned to wait until I was voluntarily leaving the flat by myself until we did public things again.

"Hazza?" I asked, watching him add dry noodles to the boiling water.

"What?" he asked, turning around.

"Why did you stay here, with me? Why didn't you just leave? Management can seem scary, but if you had protested enough, you could have lived by yourself," I said. He looked confused.

Remember (Larry Stylinson)Where stories live. Discover now