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"Louis buddy, you have to come out of you're room." The familiar Irish voice said. "It's you're birthday, come on."

"I miss him."

"He's been gone for three months. It's time to move on."

"It's my fault!" I yelled. "It's my fucking fault!"

"Dad, please come out. I miss you."

Hold my hand (Larry Stylinson)Where stories live. Discover now