Louis Lies [Larry Stylinson AU]

Chapter Six

Please read "Fighting The Feelings" (Larry Stylinson) for me. I'd appreciate it. c: Song is Alyssa Lies by Jason Michael Carroll. This story is based off of this song.

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Harry didn't feel right. He didn't feel complete in this empty flat, not without Louis. He wanted to scream, to shout, to kick things, to throw stuff. But he didn't. He was too busy packing up his things and tidying up the place before he left. The curly-haired lad was traveling to his best mate's house to straighten himself out.

Niall was a highly trained body guard, and not to mention and black belt in karate. Should Harry go into one of his moods, there's no doubt Niall wouldn't be able to handle it.

As Harry packed up the car and started the journey to the Irish lad's complex, he let his mind wander to Louis.

Surely, Louis was just talking out of anger, right? He'll come back. He has to.

Suddenly, it dawns on Harry just how much he needs Louis. Louis would be fine without him. He had such a stunning personality, stubborn sometimes, and equally beautiful features. The Doncaster man would be so much better off without him, so why would he even need--want--to come back?

All of this thinking was just bringing Harry into a panicing frenzy, and suddenly, the road before him looked blurry.

As the first sob racked his body, he had to pull over to the shoulder of the road. He couldn't drive in this state.

So the Chesire lad curled up on his side and began to cry. He cried for himself, for Louis, for his dead parents, for his sister, for Louis' parents, and for the fear that Louis really wasn't coming back home.

Harry was drowning in his own tears, choking on his breath as it exited his lungs in an un-easy pattern that was anything but gentle. Harry couldn't breathe, suddenly very claustrophobic in his oddly spacious car. As his mind played through the moments and his tear ducts stung with effort, he realized that he...he absolutely hated himself.

He hated himself for everything that he had ever done. As a teen, he often cursed the high Heavens for causing such terrible things to happen to him, when in reality, it was probably all his fault.

Now, the curly-haired man was just wishing to die. He wished Death's cold hands would reach out and wrap themselves around him like a cloak. He wanted them to squeeze and strangle and twist until Harry was no longer a mortal but living with the other victims Death has seeked.

Harry wanted to scream from the roof tops abou thow sorry he was. he wanted to jump from the same roof and end his life. He was disgusting, the lowest for of scum there was. But he had to talk to Niall, he needed Niall.

So Harry pulled together his sharded edges and completed the drive to the Irish lad's home.

Niall knew Harry was coming, so he waited, in the pouring rain, for him to arrive. When he finally did, Niall rushed to help him with his things. Tugging the now dampened suitcases into the front hall, Niall ould sense something was off, the atmosphere was tense. But he was completely caught of guard at the water-works show Harry produced for him. Harry grabbed Niall's shirft and belted out a gut-churning, helpless sob.

"He's gone, Niall!" He choked. "H-he said h-he isn't co-coming b-ba-back this t-t-t-ime!"

"Shh," Niall soothed, running his hands through the luscious brown curls. "He was just upset, Haz. He didn't mean it. You know Lou loves you. Damn it, we're going clubbing tonight. You need to cheer up!"

Harry wailed into Niall's chest, blubbering about how terrible he was to Louis, about how he should've never touched him.

But, what the hell did Harry mean by that?

The blonde lad's eyes widened as the sentence left Harry's mouth. He shifted his gaze down to the mop of brown hair. "What?" He asks, his voice breathless. "What did you do, Harry?

"Louis lies, Niall. He lies for me."

--

It had been three days. Three days absent of physical pain, but three days full of emotional pain. Louis missd Harry, to say the least. He craved him, craved the scent of his clothes and the feel of his warm touch. Zayn and Liam weren't sure how they could help, or if they even could. Zayn offered to cuddle him, which earned him a sharp slap to the arm and a "shut up, you prick".

Louis was sitting on Liam's bed, watching Zayn get ready for a nighth out with his boyfriend. Zayn was currently fussing over the fact that he had nothing to wear. Louis sighed, assuing Zayn that the black jeans and black sweater with the white-collared button up was a real panty dropper. To whichh the Bradford man replied, Liam doesn't wear panties, you twat.

"You look fine, Zayn. Seriously. Hey, your name sounds familiar."

"It should," Zayn smirked, glancing at Louis through the full length mirror. "I'm your ex-boyfriend's boss."

"Seriously?" The Doncaster lad spoke. How could he be so stupid? 'Zayn' wasn't even a very common name, for God's sake! "Were you suprised when I showed up here and told you what he did?"

"Not really," He said, turning to face him. "I mean, him kicking you out is totally what I would expect from him. He's a real ass at work. Really hotheaded, you know? God, sometimes I just wanna choke that kid out. Says he loves singing but won't let me offer him a damn contract!"

Louis nods. "I know all about that."

The Pakistani boy turns, adjusting his collar. "What do you mean, Lou?"

Louis panics, Zayn would fire Harry if he found out what he was really like. "Uh, just his...stubborness?" Smooth move.

"Okay..." Zayn says, wearily. "Louis, why don't you come with me and Liam to the club tonight? You know it would help you take your mind off of things. And I know that ass acts as a boy magnent."

"Hey!" Louis gasps, smacking Zayn playfully. "It's not my fault if I'm blessed!"

The younger lad chuckles. "So what do you say? You wanna go?"

"I...yeah. I'll go."