idk who wrote this (i really love it) if it's you pm me i'll put your name here
'no fake bîtches plz'
It's 3 A.M. Louis still isn't home.
Harry should be sleeping. Louis did tell him before he left that he would be out late. That doesn't make it easier to fall asleep though, not with the empty space beside him on the bed. Louis didn't make any promises. He didn't know that Harry would cook dinner for the both of them. He didn't know that Harry would wait up for him, expectantly staring at the door for hours on end. So Harry shouldn't be mad, really. And definitely not so, so sad.
Through the complete silence in the flat, he could distinctly hear the main door creak. He could hear the thud of Louis's shoes as he toed them off, could hear after that his soft footsteps coming towards their room. The knob on the door of their room turns. Harry faces the wall.
Louis is silent. Too silent. He's tiptoeing towards the bed. He lifts the comforter up gingerly and tucks himself in. He doesn't scoot over near Harry to wrap his arms around the taller boy. He doesn't bury his face on the back of Harry's neck to sniff his hair. He doesn't wake Harry up just to give him a goodnight kiss. He stays on his side of the bed. He keeps a safe distance from Harry's body that's turned away from him.
It hurts. Louis doesn't have to say. He was out with her.
He waits for Louis to apologize. Or at least explain.
He waits and waits and waits.
Louis shifts. Harry stops breathing.
Louis's asleep.
Quietly, Harry buries his face in his hands and cries.
cry - your mom