Reactive Envy

Chapter Twenty-four: The dominance....

It hurts. Everything hurts. His head hurts from lack of fluids, his eyes hurt from crying, his throat hurts from lack of use, his back hurts from laying on the floor, and the rest of his body hurts from lack of sleep.

The worst pain of all is his heart. He feels like it's been torn to pieces repeatedly by a flaming hot sword. He can't fathom why he let this happen. It's been 24 hours since he last heard Louis' voice, 24 hours since he stopped banging on the door. Harry needs to get up and carry on, but he just can't. He knows it'll hurt once he walks out his door and sees that Louis is gone. He's glad Louis didn't ring Gemma because she would have dragged him out, kicking and screaming, and forced the truth.

Drifting into something too heavy to be a daydream but not enough to be much-needed sleep. Harry thinks about how life could have been if he had met Louis at a different time. If he had met Louis first. They could have met in England. There are so many other possibilities; instead, the universe put them together when Louis wasn't available.

A bang startles Harry into an upright position. A second bang makes him realise someone is ramming something into his door. Another bang, and he can see the door starting to crack. He flinches, sliding back as far as he can into the corner of his room, unsure of what else he can do. Another bang and a large sledgehammer come's into view. There is now a gaping hole in his door that Harry's jaw is currently copying. Harry is in absolute disbelief.

Who the hell is breaking into his room with a fucken sledgehammer? 

A small, dainty hand comes through the hole turning the lock, and the door is kicked open. Standing on the other side of the now open door is a furious but relieved Louis Tomlinson. Harry can't move. He's frozen in shock. He told Louis to leave and hasn't heard any noise since. He now has a broken door and an angry hedgehog of a man staring at him with a fire in his eyes he's never seen before.

"Um?"

"Shut the fuck up. You do not get to speak right now, Harold."

Shock is all Harry is feeling. The painful heartbreak, tiredness, and sadness are gone. All he feels is the feeling of utter shock. Who is this man in front of him?

"Get up, get in the shower. No talking. I'll be in the kitchen."

Louis turns and walks determinedly towards the kitchen. Once Harry can hear the jug boiling, he crawls his way into the bathroom, only standing once he can feel all his limbs again. While in the shower, he thinks about the last 24 hours.

Why did Louis stay? Or did he come back? Why is he so angry? Why did he not just ring Gemma? It's constant confusion with Louis, but he'll get his answers this time. He isn't backing down from this conversation. Not this time. He never wants to feel like yesterday ever again. He promises himself that no matter what happens, he'll be okay.

Standing at the entrance to the kitchen, he sees Louis sitting at the dining table with a mug of what he assumes is Yorkshire in front of him. His head is hanging over the top of it, blowing steam. There is a cup by the jug, which he goes towards to fill with coffee. He also needs water and food, but that can wait. Louis hasn't spoken and Harry is unsure if he should risk pissing Louis off by talking. He makes a quick coffee and slides into the chair opposite Louis. Harry clears his throat, leaning back with his arms crossed and a stony expression.

"Don't, Harry. After the shit you've just pulled, you are fucken lucky I'm still here, and it's not Gemma instead."

He needs to keep his composure. Show Louis that he isn't backing down no matter what he does.

"I'm not sure what the fuck you were thinking yesterday, Harry. I'm not sure I know what you've been thinking from the beginning, but I'm going to start with the most obvious answer. Ashton is not, has not, and will never be my boyfriend. He is very straight and happy with Gemma."