❦34 • g e t o n , r i d e i t

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The stool I'm sitting on squeaks with each movement I make, making me groan internally out of frustration

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The stool I'm sitting on squeaks with each movement I make, making me groan internally out of frustration.

"Maybe just sit still, yeah?" Louis asks, making me roll my eyes.

"Don't be a dick to me."

"You should have sucked mine then, sweetheart." Louis' smile doesn't drop, he only keeps his stare on his glass before laughing. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding, please don't pull my gun out on me again," he says in a pouty voice, a fake pout on his face.

I can't help but shake my head and laugh with him, he's only teasing and I know that, I think my nerves have just been everywhere tonight. My mind has been everywhere for days. I have started to miss Harry, and even though he's in the next room beside mine, I still feel light years away from him. Having sex with him was a horrible idea, because now all I can think about is how fragile he looked, whining and grinding, a tear slipping from his right eye as he death gripped my hips and said, "Don't stop, please don't fucking stop."

For almost a week now, he's been a bit distant, and although I'm probably the reason why—being that I told him we are now nothing more than coworkers, I still don't like it. How is that? What is the fucking logic behind that? How can I actually hate someone for hurting me—cheating on me, continuing to do so right in front of me, and then blames me for why they did it, and then chooses to do things as of: staring at me like I'm the last person he'll ever see alive, brush his knuckles against my arm when we're sitting by each other on the couch watching a movie with everyone else in the room, tell me I'm beautiful, push my hair back when I'm doing something, grabbing a cup for me before I can get to it, making me a plate for breakfast before I wake up, etc.—after the fact—but still want that person to hold me, be near me, catch me catching him looking at me, brush his knuckles along my skin by accident, even purposely. I want him to still want me, and even though he showed me that he doesn't care if he has me or not, my brain still begs him, please, please let me be the only person who can make you fall to your knees.

Now, all of the boys are laughing, talking amongst themselves, standing over by the bar. That is until they start walking over to the table Louis and I are sitting at. It seems that I can't take my eyes off of Harry. He's looking around the bar, scanning anything he can, and I don't know if he's doing it to avoid meeting my eyes or to not look at me at all, but I'm begging him to with the look in my eyes. As if he could read my mind, he looks down, and as soon as he's a few steps away, he meets my eyes, staring at me intensely. The smile he had on his face is now gone, the only thing being visible is the frown on his lips.

"You guys ever been on a mechanical bull before?" Niall asks us all, to which we all shake our heads besides Louis.

"Yeah...those things are fucking crazy," Louis says.

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