nobody shines the way you do » l.s.

part twenty

A week later, Louis found himself up at three AM in front of his TV. He wasn't really watching the screen while some random episode of Full House played. Really, he just needed some sound to fill the room. Lately, it felt so eerily quiet everywhere he went. Even at work where he played music. The thoughts in his mind just drowned everything out, making him feel cold and empty.

And Louis just couldn't sleep. He was exhausted and completely worn out, but he couldn't sleep no matter how much he wanted or tried. This wasn't out of the ordinary as of late. After getting so used to having Harry beside him, even if it was for a little while, it just felt weird now not having him there. Louis was lucky if he got four hours in every night before he left the apartment to do something or another.

It was then that his phone started to ring with Harry's name and picture on the screen. Louis usually rejected Harry's calls, but for some reason he answered this time and held the phone to my ear, not saying anything, just quietly listening.

"Lou," Harry slurred. Louis closed his eyes slowly when he realized Harry was completely pissed drunk. It had happened a few times and he hated it because it worried him. "Lou, you there? You picked up. I can hear you breathing."

Louis didn't answer him.

"Louis, I miss you," he said, his voice breaking. "I miss you a lot and I don't feel good at all. I always feel like shit. I can't stop thinking about you--you're my best friend, right? I just--I don't know what to do. You don't think you're important to me, but you are. No one is like you--and I see you everywhere I go. Like, a few minutes ago, I was at the bar and this guy was there. I thought it was you and I felt so bad when it wasn't. I almost wanted to cry."

He took a deep breath before speaking again. "I know that, like, it's me that did this and I'm sorry. I just wish I could be with you right now. I miss you. I miss you completely. I miss not touching you and I miss breathing you in. I want you all the time and no one else."

And Louis wanted to hear all this and believe it, he did, but Harry was drunk. He was drunk and he called. He didn't show up at Louis' doorstep like Louis would have wanted.

"Do you remember, like--when we first met?" he asked Louis.

All the time, Louis thought.

"It was so good. We clicked right away and it just kind of happened. And you were always mine from the start, righ-."

Harry's voice got cut off and Louis could hear a sharp cry come from him. He clutched onto his phone as if it was Harry himself, holding his breath and waiting to see if he was okay.

"Fuck, I fell," Harry muttered into the phone with a laugh. "Fuck, Louis, it hurts, can't believe I fell." He started to laugh, but Louis knew he was too drunk to realize if he was actually hurt or not.

Panic spread through his mind as he started to picture Harry down some random street in New York City. He could get seriously hurt. God knew how much he'd had to drink. It seemed he was alone, too, and Louis wanted to run out of his flat and go look for him. Of course, he couldn't, so he tried to breathe and figure something out.

"Harry, where are you?" Louis asked him as calmly as he could.

"Louis," he cried into the phone. "You're talking. Shit, shit. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never fucking wanted this. I never wanted to see you hurt. You believe me, right? Please believe me."

"Where are you? Tell me, please," Louis prompted, trying not to break composure.

"But can't we talk?" Harry pleased.

"Just tell me where you are or else I'll hang up on you," Louis threatened.

"Soho," he replied. "Near Broome and Mercer."