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Part IX - L.T.

I can't decide whether I'm more angry at Harry or myself. Maybe it's neither and I'm just angry at the universe for the situation we're in.

I'm also really hungry. I skipped dinner with the boys because I'm definitely not ready to sit down and have a conversation with them after the events of last night and this morning.

My phone's blowing up but I don't bother checking it. I'm pretty sure I can guess what the messages are anyways. Niall and Liam asking me why I didn't come to dinner, Lottie wondering why I haven't called home in ages, Paul checking on me, Simon getting tired of my shit...

I sigh and log on to Twitter, hoping to distract myself. Bad move. The second I open the app, I'm assaulted by mentions. I ignore all of them and click on the trending page.

Trending hashtags:

1. #OTRA
2. #onedirection
3. #ChickenCaesarSalad
4. #hendall
5. #harrystyles
6. #kendalljenner
7. #harryxkendall
8. #justiceforzayn
9. #rainbowbear
10. #LoveIslandIsMakingAComeback

What? Harry and Kendall Jenner? Since when?! And he had the audacity to get mad at me for a meaningless hookup. Wow. Okay.

I go through the list again. The eighth hashtag breaks my heart, the ninth makes me smirk, and the tenth makes my face contort in disgust. Honestly, Love Island is a tragic show and I've got no time for it, or anyone on it.

I briefly consider turning my phone off and throwing it at the wall, but I hear a knock on my door before I can go through with it.

"Hey, um, Louis? Are you there?"

Fuck. It's Harry's voice. I could ignore him...

Who am I kidding, of course I'm going to let him in.

I open the door and he walks in, awkwardly sitting on the edge of my bed.

I close the door and join him, looking at him expectantly.

He looks down and clears his throat.

"I, uh, I'm sorry about...you know. I shouldn't have said those things."

I turn away, my anger already rising, and take a deep breath. I don't want to explode on him, but if I talk to him right now, I know I will.

I shake my head. "Don't."

He looks up at me and he seems pissed, which only makes me angrier. What right does he have to be mad?

"Don't what?" he snaps, "You said you wanted to talk."

And that's it. I turn towards him and glare furiously.

"Don't you fucking snap at me," I growl. "Don't you fucking dare snap at me. You don't get to give me attitude after the shit you put me through. Yeah, I said I wanted to talk. I don't fucking want to anymore. You have no right to be mad at me. In case you don't remember, you broke up with me. Which means I can do whatever the fuck I want with whoever the fuck I want. And you're a fucking hypocrite too. You went off on me for a meaningless one-night stand but you seem to have moved on quite nicely. Tell Kendall I say hello."

He looks shocked and hurt, but, for once, I don't feel bad. He fucking deserves that.

"Me and Kendall aren't..."

"And you know what's funny, Harry?" I continue, ignoring him. "That panic attack that I had the other day? That was you. Do you know how much I regretted what I did with Briana? I hated myself for doing that with anyone but you. I felt fucking filthy. If I could take it back, I would. In fact, if you asked right now, I would come back to you in a heartbeat. Call me weak, pathetic, I don't care. I love you, Harry. If you think we don't work, then, fine. So be it. But it fucking hurts when you accuse me of not caring. Because I do care. I care so fucking much."

"I'm sorry," he whispers, tears in his eyes. "Shit, I'm so sorry. I thought... I didn't... Fuck. I don't want this, you know. I love you so much, Lou. You know that. But this...this fucking industry, we just can't. I already told you that I'd choose you over my career any day, but what about Niall and Liam? The fans? I just... I'm sorry."

I didn't realize I was crying, but there are tears streaming down my face.

"I'm sorry too. I know it's not your fault, but I'm just mad at the world right now and I'm taking it out on you. I get it, Haz, I do. But that doesn't mean I have to like it. I miss you. So fucking much. I can't stand fighting with you. Every time we talk lately, it always ends in tears. I need you, Harry. And if I can't have you as a lover, I still need you as a friend."

He sighs and looks down.

"I miss you too, fuck," he chuckles sadly, "We're a pair of pathetic losers, aren't we?"

"Friends?" I ask, smiling slightly.

"Friends," he responds, throwing his arms around me.

And, as I bury my face in his shoulder and breathe in his familiar scent, I think that friends might not be too bad.