You're Still The One// L.S.

*3*

***

It was super dark. He tripped over something that felt like a bottle under his foot and landed on his stomach on the floor. "Ouchhhhh! What the fuck." He cried.

He got up again and walked around, in hopes to find his phone or something. He couldn't see a thing, let alone the switchboard, to switch on the lights. This was why you shouldn't doze off midday with no lights on. He assumed it was way too late in the evening, the reason for the blinding darkness.

Finally, he switched on all the switches and the room rose from darkness to brightness. He was standing right in front of his mirror and ew, he was a right mess. Hair flying in all directions, eyes watering due to the constant yawning, clothes crumbled, and face pale. He really should've gone for the dinner party.

His phone rang on the other side of the bedroom. He realized that there was an empty bottle of Jameson's on the floor, which he had tripped on. Oh, yeah. He'd passed out on the bed, drinking. Oops.

He reached for his phone and said, "Hello?" "Oh thank goodness, you're alive. Bloody hell mate, I've been fucking calling you for the past half an hour, where the hell have you been? I'm worried sick here. Did you even check your phone? Are you oka-" The unmistakable Irish accent boomed.

"Oh my God, Niall I'm fine. I just passed out on my bed. I'm fine." Harry mumbled into the phone. Sure, he was fine. Of course, he was fine. Did he not look fine?

"Harry, I left at 3 pm. What have you been doing since then? Anne has been telling me off late that you're never answering your phone. Harold, you know you're no good alone. You get upset and sometimes mad at yourself because-"

"I'm very well aware of how I feel when I'm alone, Niall. Don't remind me, yeah? I just woke up from... 3 hours of sleep?" Harry cut him off. He knew he was being rude but he just couldn't talk about his problems all the time.

"Okay. Fine. Anyway. I called because I wanted to know if you wanted any milkshakes. There's this shop here that has amazing milkshakes. You love milkshakes. Want any?" Niall asked.

"No, I don't want one, but thank you for asking," Harry said, smiling to himself. He loved Niall.

"Harry, I just want you to be happy, yeah?" Niall said. "I am happy, Niall. Why wouldn't I be? I've got a great job that I love doing, I've got you and mum. Wait, Gemma too. I'm happy, really." He said. He wasn't exactly lying, though. He was just leaving out some obvious truths.

"Okay, Harold. See you in a bit." Niall said and hung up. Harry threw his phone on the bed and walked towards the mirror. He eyed himself and concluded that he needed a shower. He walked to the living room, got his vinyl player, and played one of his Coldplay vinyl, before walking into the bathroom.

Look at the stars

Look how they shine for you

No, no, no. Not this song. Harry hurried out to change the song.

Sometimes music is a healer. But sometimes music could be an absolute nightmare. The association of any memory with a song could prove to be the cause of any big meltdown in the future. Especially when the protagonist of the recollection no longer existed in your life. Especially if it was completely your fault they didn't exist. Especially when you pretended they didn't exist anymore or you don't care anymore.

Harry sighed and shook his head sadly. He was a fucking loser. He changed the song and walked back into the bathroom. Let's wash away all those painful tears, shall we?

***

"I need you to stop kissing me in case you'd like to have some breakfast," I said, giggling while trying to push the menace away.