This chapter is mainly gonna be focused on Harry and the next one will be focused on Louis. Just so you guys have a central idea of how they are both doing
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It had been six months since Louis had left Harry.
Six. Bloody. Months. Harry was worse than he has ever been. Worse than when he would cheat on Louis. Worse than when he'd drink until god knows when in the morning.
His apartment was a hell hole. He got semi-permanently fired from his job until he could get his shit together. Words of wisdom from his boss.
He wasn't being paid for it though. He was just waiting for the numbers in his bank account to drop until deciding to go back. Let him tell you though, it ain't hard for that to happen. Especially when you don't know how to cook with home made ingredients.
Harry woke up with a permanent frown etched into his face. Today was the six month mark of Louis leaving. It felt like 2 years. That amount of time spent away is easy to feel 2 years long when you spend every single day with the person.
He pulled back the warmth of the covers and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Ah, 11:59 am. What a surprise...not.
He checked his phone. Nothing except a message from Zayn checking in on him. Again, not surprising.
His phone was on 15% battery. He must've forgot to plug it in. Not that it matter anyways. He had nothing to do on it and no one bothered speaking to him except Zayn. No one that mattered anyway. Definitely not Louis.
Stop it. Harry focused his tired brain on something other than Louis. Louis shredded his heart with his bare fingers. His longing was starting to turn into hatred now. He deleted all their pictures. He took them down in the flat. The walls were bare. The white paint never seemed more blank. The only thing that remained hanging was a wooden painted plank that said "home" in white letters. He was thinking about taking that down too. It just mocked him whenever he walked inside. This place was far from home. His home took his stuff and left. That's not what a home is supposed to do. A home is supposed to provide comfort and safety.
Now he was alone and numb. The silence had never truly been louder.
He finally got out of bed and dragged his big feet to his bathroom. He opened the glass door of his shower and grabbed ahold of the handle to turn on the water. Without a thought he turned the knob all the way to the right. Then he stripped off his boxers and socks. He glanced at the mirror, staring into the eyes of someone unrecognizable. He stood there for a moment. The goosebumps started to raise on his limbs and torso. He turned his head and stepped into the steaming shower. The heat of the water failed to burn him with the numbness coursing through his veins. Harry brought his fingers through his hair, down his neck and paused, feeling the hot water paint his back with red.
Louis hurt him more than this. He sighed and began to wash his hair with the black- half empty shampoo bottle on the rack. It smelled of something musky. Harry never really cared what scent his shampoo was. Louis was the one with preferences. He liked anything fruity smelling. He mostly used Dove.
Not that it mattered anymore anyways. Harry threw out the bottles of Louis' that were left. He put whatever clothing he didn't take with him in the guest room and he never went in there. Harry was just trying to erase the thing that caused him the most pain. As much as he never wanted to see Louis' face again, he would give up everything just to have him back.
Harry stepped out of the shower and wrapped a white fuzzy towel around his waist after dabbing at the water droplets down his chest and back. He brushed his teeth and shook out the water in his hair.
When he turned his body halfway around he could see the pink skin of his back from where the water was beating down on him. Going to his bedroom, he opened his drawer and grabbed some clothes. He grabbed a white shirt that had a smiley face with the tongue sticking out with holes in it. Then he threw on a snap back to hide his unruly hair. He really needed to cut it. (Outfit)
He let it get too far out of hand. Not like he was trying to take care of himself anyway.
Harry grabbed his keys and decided to go get some breakfast. He hopped in the car and turned it on. Waiting for the engine to run for a little bit, he opened the mirror and took a look. On his forehead to the upper right corner sat a small pimple. He was breaking out again. He hasn't had break outs for years. Maybe the stress was finally catching up with him. He shook his head and shut the mirror then stepped on the break and shifted into reverse.
Once he pulled out of the driveway he sped down the road towards a cafe him and Louis went to a few times. Harry recalls bringing Louis there for their second date.
It was a brunch date sort of. It was nice. Harry felt his eyes sting as he parked the car in front of the place. "Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry," He muttered to himself. He willed the tears away then got out of the car and headed in the place. The older lady Margaret who worked there immediately recognized Harry and broke out into a smile.
"Harry! How are you?!" She rushes around the counter with her short legs and pulled Harry into a warm embrace.
"I'm alright Margaret," he sort of lied, "how are you?"
"Great, great!"
"The place looks great!" Harry complimented. Although the building was older she kept it in good shape.
"How's Louis? That little darling! Haven't seen him in ages," She laughed lightly. Harry stiffened at the name. He knew this was bound to be brought up the moment he saw her.
"Uh- um yeah he's uh- he's fine." He didn't feel like explaining it, and lying was easier than talking about shit he didn't want to talk about.
"Good! He's always been my favorite of yours."
She was referring to Harry's relationships. Even before he began dating Louis he had been with 3 other people. They didn't last long but Margaret was there for every single one.
"Yeah..mine too."
She ushered him to the bar stools and told him
she'd make him a tea on the house. He tapped his fingers on the counter mindlessly. The time was now 2:06 pm. He had gotten a late start. Not that he had anywhere to be anyways.
"Can I have a bacon, egg and cheese on an English muffin?" Harry asked one of the workers who was wiping down the bar top.
The woman nodded and started to make Harry a breakfast sandwich. He was reaching his hand into his pocket to find his phone when he realized he left it at home. He grumbled then slouched and lent his head onto his hand.
"Here's your tea Harry, dear." Margaret set a cup of piping hot tea. The smell sent nostalgic feelings to Harry. He hadn't had a good cup of tea since Louis walked out and left.
He hadn't done a lot since Louis left. Now that he was pondering about the subject.. he wondered how Louis was doing. If he missed him. If he was happier. If he was a mess.
"Thank you," He replies a couple seconds late. She furrowed her brows at him.
"Is something wrong Harry?" She asked concerned.
"No.. everything is fine," His voice went more flat. He tried his best to mask his emotions. It seemed that whenever someone asked him if he was okay his body immediately wanted to break down. It's too late to be crying about it. It's over now, get over it. He told himself.
"You know I'll always be here for you. I have no room for judgement when I've lead a life of mistakes. We are both human here Harry," she said softly. Her old wrinkled fingers caressed the bend of his arm.
"I know Marg. I just don't feel like talking about it," He replied shortly. He knew she was trying to help, but he was sick of talking about his life. He was sick of thinking that Louis was done with him and moved on. He was fucking sick to his stomach.
He didn't want to think about it anymore. He wanted to forget. He wanted to do better. He wanted to get his job back. But he couldn't. He was stuck.
He was depressed, and anxious, and broken. Each day was just a challenge in itself. Could he get out of bed tomorrow morning? What about the day after? Was he gonna ignore Zayn again tomorrow? What about the days after. He was just digging to rock bottom and he couldn't put down the shovel.
When he was done with his brunch he left Margaret a tip and the other woman who made his breakfast that he didn't know the name of.
He drove home and fell onto the couch. He flicked through the channels and settled on the cooking one. Then, he passed out for the next couple of hours.
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There's a glimpse into the mind of Harry.
What do you guys think?
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