"Get me out of here Louis!" He yells, twisting his body around, trying to slip from the tape holding his hands and feet. Louis rolls his eyes and slams the shed door, leaning against it. Harry smirks at him, grabbing onto Louis' ripped shirt.
"Fuck...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
He looks up at the spinning ceiling. "I'm never drinking again," Louis groans, another wave of nausea taking over, "they lie about hang overs in movies. God, it's so much worse." Harry squints at him, his eyebrows pulled together in pain.
"I have a headache and every time I try to move everything spins. I can't even close my eyes," Louis whines, he throws his hand over his eyes, "like in that glee episode when everyone was wearing sun glasses and acting like every noise sucks. Bitch. That sounds a lot better then what I'm feeling right now."
Harry sits up, "well I'm sure it's different for everyone. Also don't drink as much next time."
"I needed to drink this much. Helps the anger," Louis says, forcing himself to move his head.
"What anger?" Harry asks, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He's putting on his therapist mode, Louis usually loves it but he's not having it today.
"I need to go," Louis mutters, quickly stumbling out of bed. He ignores the nausea, looking around for his clothes. "Where are my clothes?"
Harry shrugs, looking around his room. "Mom probably is washing them or something. Plus school doesn't start for an hour." Louis frowns over at Harry.
"I need to leave, like now," Louis says urgently, "I'll just borrow some clothes." He walks over to the closet, ruffling through some of Harrys clothes. A hand rests on his shoulder gently, Louis tenses.
"Please stay," Harry whispers, Louis sighs and closes his eyes.
"Harry," he turns around, Harry pushes his bottom lip out. Louis shakes his head sadly, "Hazza I can't."
Harry slides a hand across Louis' lower back, pulling him closer. Louis giggles, squirming away from Harry. "This is the first time you've stayed the night in years and I can barely remember any of it," Harry whines, his eyes dart down to Louis' lips, "well I remember the good parts." Louis' face heats up at the thought, he almost forgot about last night, he was too busy whining about his hang over to even remember.
"But my dad," Louis starts, Harry puts a finger to Louis' lips.
"So what. I'll go home with you, maybe that'll stop your dad," Harry says, removing his finger from Louis' lips, he leans forward.
"Stop your dad from what?" The boys jump apart, twisting to the door. Gemma smirks, she's bleached it and cut it since Louis last saw her, Harry might've already told him that.
