Sugar & Kisses || Larry ||

Sickies - 16

"Liam! Let's do shots, I'm feeling it!" Louis yells over the loud music, a tray of shots in hand as he stumbles over to him. He can't see that Liam is talking to a very nice girl, whom Louis is fully ignoring. He wants to get drunk. And while he can already feel the buzz deep in his bones, he wants to feel floating, actually, he wants to feel nothing at all. And that means; more shots, more alcohol, and maybe some weed if he can score any. He knows one person in this crowd who definitely has some weed on him. Or at least he used to, but that will have to wait till later, he thinks.

"But, Louis, you seem drunk enough right now, and I'm having a bit of fun..." He trails off. He also wants to do shots, but this girl! This girl! He feels torn: his best friend or a girl who is probably going to ditch him later. That's an easy choice for him; he chose his best friend.

Louis lets out a little squeal, he is overly joyed that he can get more alcohol in him. He's feeling over the moon, so happy, and he can't help but want to share this feeling. So he takes up his phone and opens his private Instagram, the one only his friends and family have, so he can still share his life online but not get mobbed by fans.

He posts a silly selfie with the tray of shots, misspelling horribly on the caption which reads: "Out wit me bous, we aree dunk and happi" He forgets in the moment that Harry is very often one of the few people that checks his posts and stories, and that he didn't want Harry to know he was out drinking.

Harry would have noticed anyway, by him coming back to the bus drunk, by the other boys telling him, by the hangover, he was going to see. He always noticed things like this.

His smile begins to falter as he starts thinking of Harry, Harry and his big hands and comforting arms. The way he would hug him so close and would kiss his temple when he thought he was asleep. There was just something in him that screamed after the comfort Harry gave.

No! He was going to talk to Liam and take shots as the independent adult he is! He doesn't need the comforting arms of Harry or the nice smell of his warm body.

"Come on Liam, cheers!" He yells, forcing a shot-glass into Liam's hand, spilling a little bit on his pants, which none of them care much about, they're partying.

They yell and cheer, then down the many shots on the table. Louis isn't sure how he is feeling other than the floating feeling of his feelings dissipating. It makes him feel better, makes him feel like he doesn't care about the rest of the world.

As he decides to go dancing with Niall, he gets a notification on his phone, it's a worried text from Harry reading; "I thought you were tired, Louis what is this, you were supposed to take care of yourself, let me come pick you up and we can cuddle before your hangover gets too bad? Love H." It makes Louis second guess his decision, he just can't handle the sweet words Harary is throwing at him, he really is too sweet. Why does he have to care about him? It would all be so much easier if he didnøt care, that would mean Louis could do whatever he wanted, and not have to worry about what someone else was thinking of it. Or if he was hurting someone else when he was in his self-destructive phases. Why does it have to be so hard to be cared for? Why is he even cared for...

He feels a small tear fall down his cheek and raises his hand up to wipe it away. But as he does he feels his stomach churn, he feels sick, but in his head and body. He can't seem to make himself walk to the bathroom and decides just to go outside the club, where there is now a heap of young people, and stands to the side, knowing that he will probably throw up within a few minutes.

He feels bad for those who need to clean this up tomorrow, however, he doesn't care much about those when he can feel the alcohol rise in his throat. It spills out and he coughs and spits. He feels like death. This is not how he wanted his night to end.