BLUSHING//L.S.

Chapter XVI

Louis set on the edge of his bed for what felt like hours. It had only been twenty minutes since Harry left and he could already perceive the absence of the boy in his room: never in his life he thought he could feel so much pain looking at a pair of cum-stained jeans. He had fixed his hair and put on some random clothes, in hope to look more acceptable, but he knew that his eyes couldn't lie as much as his words could.

He knew that Paul had understood something: his eyes said enough, when he closed the door in front of a sad and disappointed Harry. 'I'm sorry Louis, but you know it's for the best', he said while Louis walked next to him. All he could do was shake his head.

Now he was ready for whatever would happen next.

When he heard the door being opened and a few muttered words came from down the stairs, his whole body started to tense and anxiety filled his mind, making his sight blurry and his heart race.

'LOUIS!' he heard his dad shout. Slowly he got up from the bed and started to go to the kitchen, where he knew he would find him, probably with a beer in his hands.

And the scenario was exactly that: his dad set there, while Paul leaned against the kitchen counter.

-Hi dad..- Louis tried to say, soon cut off.

-Didn't I tell you to pick up those fucking glasses yesterday? - he shouted, as soon as he saw him. Louis sent a glare to Paul, because he thought that he would pick them up. His brother tried to apologize with a sorrowful stare. He knew that his father had asked him to do it, but it was hard since he had tears streaming down his eyes and blood dripping from his chin.

-Sorry- he muttered, mentally following it with a 'go fuck yourself', while he picked up the pieces of the broken bottle.

-Your mum is at Claire's fucking house again; I can't believe it- the man said, anger palpable in his words. Louis wanted to shout at his face that his mum was once again making the best choice, since he was such an awful person to live with. But he stayed quiet, swallowing his feelings.

-She'll be back for lunch, you know it- Paul tried to reassure him. Louis didn't know how his brother could be so gentle, and part of him despised him for it. But the other part of him was grateful, because he knew that he did this only to keep their father calm. And they both knew that he had a tendency on taking his anger out on Louis.

-She better be. I don't want to starve, it's Sunday- he grunted, taking another sip of the beer. Most of the time what he said didn't make sense, thoughts blurred heavily by alcohol.

Louis set uncomfortably at the table, not knowing where to put his hands or what to do with his legs.

-Sit like a fucking man- his father said, seeing him cross his legs. Louis obliged, not wanting to anger him more. -You didn't learn yet, did you? - he continued mockingly.

Louis knew he was referring to the fight they had the other day that caused him the bruised eye. A fight that had no reason to start in the first place, since it was about a lilac sweatshirt that Louis was wearing. But apparently that wasn't right for his father, because it made him 'a disgusting fag', as he always liked to shout since what had happened one year before.

-Paul, would you bring me another beer? - he asked.

Louis had no hard feelings for his brother for being treated better than him. He knew it wasn't his fault and he was suffering from the situation as well. But still he couldn't help himself from thinking that if he was like him, his life wouldn't be such a disaster. And so that's what he was trying to do, with all those football games and flirting with girls. He was trying to be a child that is not hated by his own father.