Haunted (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 9

Harry's POV

I was in one of those moods where you're restless but you really don't know why. I felt exhausted, but I couldn't keep from pacing around my flat, absently picking things up just to do something with my hands.

Taylor had left to go back to America, and now I had nothing to distract me from the pain that threatened to tear me apart.

I had seen the pictures of Louis and Eleanor walking around. Louis didn't look very happy and I knew that a lot of our fans were blaming me seeing Taylor for that. I knew it actually because of our fight and that Louis was just worrying again. I wished it was because Louis was secretly in love with me and was depressed that I was seeing Taylor, but that was sadly not the case.

My phone rang and I sighed, pulled out of my thoughts, and picked it up.

"Hello?" I said.

"Hazzaaaaa! Hi! So, I'm like...drunk of something?" Louis slurred on the other line, "And I like...need you to pick me up cause my car like...vanished or something? Or maybe I'm in the wrong part of the parking lot, I dunno."

He exploded into a fit of giggles. I rolled my eyes. Louis got so weird when he got drunk.

"Where are you, Lou? I'll come get you," I sighed.

He told me the name of the place.

"Why are you so drunk anyways? I thought you were hanging out with Eleanor," I said, cringing.

"Mmm...no," Louis replied quietly, suddenly seeming a lot less drunk, "She broke up with me and now I'm drunk and I just want to go to sleep."

I almost dropped my phone.

"I'll be there in a bit, yeah? Just go back inside or something and don't drink anymore, okay?" I said gently. I was surprised Louis wasn't in hysterics yet. His emotions were always in overdrive when he was drunk.

"Mkay, Hazzabear!" he giggled, his mood changing again.

I trudged down to my car and got in, heading towards the club he was at, praying he wasn't being stupid. We didn't need anymore negative publicity.

I knew that the publicity that Taylor and I were receiving was extemely negative. I spent hours scrolling through the hate on Twitter. It was kind of an addiction, like cutting. But I didn't cry or get upset with the hate anymore. I felt kind of connected with the haters, knowing that I wasn't the only one who hated me.

Taylor had seen my cuts on like the second day we had been together. She had gently touched them and pressed her lips to them, almost exactly how Louis had. I had almost started to cry, just like I had when Louis had done it, but this time it was because it wasn't him touching me like that.

I pulled up to the club that Louis was at and walked inside. I found him fairly quickly. He was dancing psychotically and stumbling every few moments. Yep. He was extremely drunk.

I walked up to him and tugged him behind me, having to stop every few seconds when he tripped. We finally reached my car and I shoved him inside before getting in myself.

He stared at me, grinning.

"Hey, Hazza!" he greeted, "Fancy seeing you here, isn't it?"

I shook my head, smiling.

"You are so drunk, Lou," I snorted.

He hummed happily, bouncing in his seat as I started to drive.

Drunk Louis had stages.

At first he would be happy and bubbly and completely childish like he was a kid. This usually blended with a very typical drunk person Louis where you couldn't understand a word he said.