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Part II - L.T.

We spend the evening watching rom-coms and eating junk food, which makes me a little bit less depressed. Around one in the morning, when we finally decide to go to sleep, Liam brings in some extra blankets and decides to sleep on the couch so that I'm not alone. I love Liam, he's great for emotional support.

I wake up to Niall pounding on the door and cussing us out.

"Oi, dickheads! We gotta be at the airport in thirty minutes, get your lazy arses up!"

Shit. The biggest part of the tour starts today. I groan and drag myself to the bathroom, waking Liam up on the way. I quickly get ready and toss my stuff into my suitcase. We run downstairs and jump into one of the cars with Paul and Mark. I see Harry and Niall getting into the car behind us with a few bodyguards.

We get to the airport and Paul hands us our tickets.

"Right, so Harry and Louis, you're sitting in row C, Liam and Niall, row A."

We look at each other awkwardly for a few seconds. Liam finally speaks up.

"Um, Paul? We can all sit in any of those four seats, right?"

Paul nods, looking a bit confused.

"Okay, then I'll sit with Louis, and Niall can sit with Harry."

"Why, did something ha-"

Niall shuts him up with a glare.

* * *

It's a long flight from London to L.A., but it feels even longer. I spend the first hour going back and forth between staring at Harry and trying not to think about Harry. Obviously, neither of those activities are helping my bad mood, so, to distract myself, I write.

I can see Harry also writing. Normally, I would feel giddy and excited, knowing he was writing about me. Now I just feel empty.

About halfway through the flight, I start to doze off. I wake up to Liam shaking my shoulder and handing me a piece of paper.

"From Harry. I don't know what it is, but he told me to give it to you."

I unfold it, confused and excited.

"If I could fly

I'd be coming back right back home to you

I think I might

Give up everything, just ask me to

Pay attention, I hope that you listen

'Cause I let my guard down

Right now, I'm completely defenceless

For your eyes only

I show you my heart

For when you're lonely

And forget who you are

I'm missing half of me

When we're apart

Now you know me

For your eyes only

For your eyes only"

I crumple the piece of paper and lean back, inhaling sharply. I will not give him the satisfaction of making me cry again. Liam reaches over and squeezes my arm, looking slightly concerned. I quickly scribble "You indecisive little shit" on the back of the paper and pass it back to Harry. He wants to write a song like that? Fine. I can do that too.

I spend the next two hours writing him a goodbye song, purely out of spite. I make sure to write exactly what will get a rise out of him.

"Unforgettable together, held the whole world in our hands

Unexplainable, a love that only we could understand, yeah

I know there's nothing I can do to change it

But is there something that can be negotiated?

My heart's already breaking, baby, go on, twist the knife"

And then, at the bottom of the page:

"Baby, let me love you goodbye ;)"

I give Liam the sheet, telling him to pass it to Harry. I watch out of the corner of my eye as he reads it and tears up. A part of me feels satisfied, but I mostly just feel sad, because, fuck, I hate to see him cry.

* * *

We quickly finish up at the airport and take taxis to the hotel. For the first time, I'm actually going to be staying in my own room. I can't stand the idea of having a king-size bed all to myself, so I tell Paul to cancel my reservation and I take my things to the tour bus. I dump my luggage in the main area and climb into one of the bunk beds, hoping to get some sleep.

A few minutes later, I hear the door open and the sound of footsteps and heavy breathing. Chelsea boots.

"Louis?"

My heart skips a beat. It's Harry. I consider ignoring him, but I just can't bring myself to. Instead, I mumble, "'M here."

The curtain is thrown open. The first thing I notice is how dilated his pupils are. The second thing I notice is the very obvious bulge in his pants. I smirk and sit up.

"Why are you here?"

He looks me up and down and licks his lips.

"To love you goodbye," he whispers raspily.

And just like that, I'm hard too.

* * *

The first show in the States happens a week after that incident.

Harry left immediately after finishing that night and said that it was "just for closure" and that we were "officially over." It hurt, but I agreed, of course, and it should have ended there. But he came back the next night. And the night after that.

So I've gone from Harry's boyfriend to his booty call. And I'm not even that mad about it. It's much better than being ignored.

And now we're locked in my dressing room, ten minutes before the show, and we're both finishing off.

This can't keep happening. We're supposed to be over.

"What are we doing, Harry?" I ask, finally.

"Like, right now? I'm getting dressed." He looks a bit confused. "Or if you meant a few minutes before that, I was sucking your dick..." he adds with a smirk.

I glare at him. "Seriously, what is this? You broke up with me and now you want to keep coming to me for sex?"

He shrugs. "I know we're not together anymore, but I guess my dick didn't get the memo, because it can't help but find you attractive."

"Harry..."

"Are you going to lie and say you want me to stop?" he challenges.

"Hmm, my dick says no, but, unfortunately, I have a fucking brain. And I refuse to just be your booty call because our relationship meant too much for that."

And with that, I walk out of the room, leaving him in shock.