Larry Oneshots

Never Again

A/N: This mentions panic attacks as well as suicidal concepts, please please read with caution. Also the timeline in this is not accurate with the timeline that One Direction broke up, or with the timeline of Jay's passing away as well as the Two of Us performance. Alrighty, buckle up bitches.
Word Count: 9264

LOUIS POV

Numb.

All I can feel is numb.

My beautiful boyfriend of 4 and a half years just walked into our shared hotel room and tore everything apart. He took every insecurity I have, everything little thing he spent the past four years convincing me wasn't true, and threw them in my face.

And left.

This was three months ago and I'm still barely passing by.

Flashback (Louis POV)

"Louis, I'm home. We have to talk."

Words that have always scared me, especially coming from my Greek God of a boyfriend.

"Hi, Hazza. What's going on?"

No kiss from Harry makes me even more scared.

"I'm breaking up with you."

Those five words rung in my skull.

Over and over.

My eyes immediately filling with tears, I frantically tried to find an explanation for what is happening. "Y-you're breaking up with me?"

"Yes."

No hesitation in Harry's voice.

Another sting to the chest. "Why?"

Harry scoffs at me. Actually scoffs. A noise I've only heard him make in the direction of management when they tried to continuously separate us.

"Why? Are you seriously asking me that question, Louis?"

"Y-yeah, I am." My voice cracks with the pain in my heart.

This isn't my Harry.

This isn't my baby.

"Well for starters, your voice fucking annoys me. You're so fucking loud, I can't stand it. You're not exactly in the best shape, I mean come on, Louis. I'm just not attracted to your body anymore. And you're so clingy. You never give me space."

All I can do is stare at the man that used to tell me everything he just used against me wasn't true. The man with the sunshine smile that could make even the darkest days seem okay. The boy that would curl into or on top of me every night with his face buried into my neck.

I draw in a breath, "So what, are you saying you don't love me?"

His eyes widen slightly, an internal struggle it seems, but they quickly go back to normal.

He can't meet my eyes.

"Yeah. I guess that's what I'm saying. That I don't love you anymore. That you're practically unloveable."

My heart stops.

Of all the things he said to me, this hurt the worst. The one thing he always assured me wasn't true, he threw in my face with so much anger and what seemed to be sincerity that I can't even look at him anymore.

Without a final glance at me, he grabs some of his clothes, stuffs them in his bag with some other things, and walks out. I can do nothing but stare at his retreating figure until the slamming of the hotel door hides him from my view.