Six Degrees of Separation ➳ Larry

Third Degree

"And the third, is when your world splits down the middle"

THIRD DEGREE

The carpet pattern in the hotel hallway looked like a honeycomb: white hexagons amidst a canvas of black. Louis stared at it numbly as he sat on the floor in the long corridor, knees tucked against his chest. Wet tears clumped in his eyelashes as he tried to process what just happened. He felt a stinging ache of betrayal deep in his chest. The visual of Harry kissing that woman replayed in his head on a loop.

It didn't take long for Harry to follow him outside, but it felt like an eternity. He quickly spotted Louis sitting on the floor with a blank stare plastered on his face. His eyes moved up to meet Harry's, and when they finally connected, it felt like an impending doom. Louis wanted to press pause on his life and prevent this from unfolding. He'd been dreading this day for a long time.

"Lou," Harry said cautiously, crouching next to him. He reached out to hold Louis's hand, but he quickly flinched away.

"Don't fucking touch me right now, H," Louis warned. He folded his hands in his lap, fiddling his fingers anxiously.

Harry's lips pressed together. "I'm sorry."

Louis simply shook his head, gaze shifting to the floor— like it physically pained him to look at Harry right now. Which, it kind of did.

"Why would you do that?" Louis demanded.

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. "I don't know."

"Don't you dare lie to me right now."

Harry's exhaled a nervous breath. "I... wanted to make you jealous."

Louis scoffed bitterly. "Why on earth would you want to do that?"

"Because I was jealous," Harry confessed.

"I've been nothing but devoted to you throughout our entire relationship. What the fuck do you have to be jealous about?"

Harry frowned. "I saw you watching that stripper."

Louis threw his hands in the air, exasperated. "This is Liam's bachelor party! What the fuck did you want me to do? Cover my eyes?"

"You could've at least pretended to not find her attractive," Harry bit back, voice cracking, tears now swelling in his own eyes.

Louis stared at Harry for a few seconds before slumping his shoulders, defeated. "Are you serious? I can find someone attractive and not want to fuck them, Harry! This is all about you being insecure, not me."

"Lou—"

"Shut up," Louis said angrily. "Even the thought  of kissing someone other than you makes me feel physically sick, Harry. Fuck you for not feeling the same way."

Harry bit his lip. Guilt settled in his stomach. He wished the ground would swallow him whole and suck him underneath this ugly hotel carpet.

"You know I'm gay, Louis. It didn't mean anything."

Louis laughed humorlessly. "That's not the point."

"Well, you haven't exactly been the best boyfriend lately, either," Harry said defensively.

Louis gawked. "Are you serious right now? So, what? I have a few shitty days at work and that gives you the right to make out with someone else? Good to know!"

"That's not what I'm saying!"

"Then what are you saying. Enlighten me."

"You've been neglecting our relationship for months now. You love your new job more than you love me nowadays," Harry snapped. It wasn't true and he knew it, but he said it anyway.