Writer: 'Okay, Let me be honest. I haven't been getting enough sleep, and I haven't been spending enough time with myself, so when you slap those two together, and then you think of your favorite ship, somehow this ends up being the crappy abominati...
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Theme: StayAtHome!Louis - CheatingCelebrity!Harry
~~~~{inevident mentions of sexual abuse/assault.}
Japan, hotel/apartment. 12:26pm.
INTFall haze. Night time--midnight. Bathroom.
-Louis waits for Harry, falling asleep (accidentally) in the bathroom.-
He hears a knock that unsettles him to the core, forcing him out of his light sleep. His spine feels bent broken as he lies in the doorway of the bathroom--back against the wood frame, hunched over awkwardly. He pushes himself to a stand, feet hitting gently on the brown tiled floor. He stood blue eyes sunken as he took in his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He huffed, tears stinging at his eyes before he quickly made his way to the door, clad with no socks and no clothes except for boxers and an oversized Hoodie--Harry's oversized hoodie.
The cold air conditioning twists his skin and melts into the exposed areas where the hoodie failed to cover him, making the windowed-walls around their home feel like an extra layer of exposure that Louis still hadn't gotten used to. He nipped the inside of his cheek, shoulders high as he unlocked the door with red fingertips, grunting when the door was pushed open without him unlocking it fully. When he undid the top lock, Harry came knocking into him, arms wrapping around him, and a gust of perfume and alcohol warping his senses and making Louis queasy.
Louis shuffled away from his arms, tears falling.
"Louis," Harry said lowly, hands grabbing him at places he didn't want to be grabbed. Louis shuddered a breath, taking Harry's hands and averting them from any place on his body. Politely, before Louis thought too hard about it, he turned around before Harry could grip onto him again; feeling like he needed space, and sleep.
He heard a thump. "Louis," Harry had repeated, voice husky and tremblely. Louis sobbed, walking quickly down the hallway, cheeks red, and hands gripping himself to hold onto the little love he still had left to gather for himself. "Louis, please," He heard his name again, but ignored the pleading. He went into their bedroom, pulling the hoodie over his head and slipping under the covers. They were white silk and cotton sheets. They slipped through his legs, and wrapped around his ankles comfortably, keeping him from getting too cold or too warm.
Louis sobbed out a breath, choking on the exhales. He buried his face into his pillow, silently weeping his devastation out. He gripped the pillow cover too hard, making his nails meet through the cotton, and making the skin of his fingers go numb at the touch.
He listened intently into the other room. He left the door wide open, stupidly.
He listened for footsteps--the footsteps that he had memorized perfectly. The footsteps that he'd known for the last five years of his life. The footsteps that had stumbled into another woman's bed before coming home to his husband who was already aware about the sixteen other woman he had had sexual activities with.
Louis bawled into his blanket, lips shaking as he held a hand over them, hearing Harry's boots drop on the tile by the doorstep. He was one of those husbands, wasn't he? The type that- that watched as their lover slowly got bored of them, and began to go with others because they weren't good enough?
Louis was the husband that hid under the covers the moment their beloved got home.
Somehow, because of that, shame ate him from the inside out and he forgot how to speak up for himself. Harry was so precious to him--like no other. No voice, no dimples, no smile, no thought that Harry had wasn't original. Everything he said had Louis awestruck, making him the mere image of a queen on a throne. Gosh, Louis was so madly in love with Harry. Is.
Is.
The first time Harry had slept with someone, it wasn't Harry who had told him. It was the person he'd slept with. She was a brunette who wore a lovely red ring. She said that she had felt pity when she found out Harry was a newlywed, and didn't want to ruin their marriage. So she told Louis about the whole ordeal, and walked away again. No information, no name, no nothing. When Louis asked Harry about it, he said no. Then, a week later, he comes home with a red ring around his finger. The same one she had worn.
Louis gasped in memory, tears stinging his cheeks.
Then, it started becoming a pattern. About three girls later, the third one happened to be his manager at the fashion store he'd worked at. She was a tall girl with long legs and pink ribbon lips. She had blonde hair and brown eyes, was the spitting image of a @ZARA model. It irked Louis the first time he saw her. He thought she was beautiful. and apparently, so did Harry.
Harry had come to his job twice or more times, staying with Louis until his shift had finished. This was about a year ago, three months after their engagement--two months after he'd first cheated. Then, he lost his streak that day.
When Louis was busy on the computer, Harry had uttered "I have to use the restroom." Louis had nodded, not really paying attention when Harry walked off--still wrapped in the screen infront of him.
But he isn't penitent to admit the sinking feeling that had sunk in his chest when he heard it loud and clear from the bathroom. Louis didn't really need to say more than that.
Harry walked right back up to the desk, a fresh sheen of sweat on his forehead.
Louis looked up at him, and back at the computer.
He'd saved their fight for later.
Louis jumped when the door to their bedroom creaked to open wider, blinking his eyes out of his trance.
"Louis?" He heard Harry's whispered voice ask silently into their large bedroom.
Louis tucked his feet closer to his chest, closing his eyes tightly. He breathed harshly, mouth hot.
"Louis, don't do this," Harry whined deeply, closing the door lazily with a hint of raspiness in his tone. Insincerity coated his presence and made Louis tense when the drunken male made his way around the bed, tucking a large hand into Louis' side. Louis leaned into the touch, but the more he leaned into it, the more his heart and mind begged him to stop.
His whole being was telling him to stop.
But when Harry pulled back the covers, he knew it was too late.
