Two Months With Him [COMPLETED]

Part Eleven

Harry's POV:

I head back to Louis' around five. I don't suspect him to make dinner so I pick myself up something from the drive through.

His car is already in the driveway and I pull mine up next to his.

My headache is pretty much gone but the fogginess is still lingering.

I knock on the door because I don't have a key and when Louis opens it he's standing in front of me in shorts and a black shirt.

Classic.

I walk past him and towards the kitchen.

He's following me?

"Dude." He says to me.

I turn around and he's looking at me. As if I haven't been through this fight before. I've already mentally prepared myself for this.

"Hey, Louis is it?" I act like I don't know because I'm sure it pisses him off. Even more than he already is now.

"Yea, it's Louis. And you're Harry. And you came home drunk last night, you remember that?" His tone is fucking annoying.

Louis POV:

I hear his car pull up into the driveway and I'm preparing myself for what I want to say.

He knocks on the door and I almost forget that he doesn't have a key to let himself in.

When I open the door I'm ready to open my mouth and speak but he just walks past me.

Did he just?

I follow after him.

"Dude."

He turns and looks at me like he's been tired of looking at my face for hours.

"Hey, Louis is it?" He's smiling at this point and I feel like slapping that little smile off his face but I control myself.

"Yea, it's Louis. And you're Harry. And you came home drunk last night, you remember that?"

I look at him and wait for a response and he just looks at me like he's staring at a wall.

"What is your problem man seriously? You're in my house. My. House. And you came home drunk in the middle of the night. And you made the biggest fucking mess in the kitchen."

I wait for a response but he continues to stare into me so I just continue.

"And not only did I clean up your mess that your drunken ass made I also made sure you didn't die in a pile of your own vomit."

"Oh god lay off the dramatics, I wasn't going to puke I had only drunk a little." He says to me.

"So that's why when you fell into my kitchen you broke a glass wine bottle and there was no liquid spilt? Because you had 'only drunk a little'?"

He's looking at me still but I can tell he's listening to every word I'm saying.

"You've only been here for a day and we still have two months to get through. How do you expect me to feel about you when you haven't even acted like you want to be here? Because if I'm being honest I really don't want you here either."

He turns his body away from me and continues on to the kitchen.

I follow him and continue to talk.

"You know it would be nice to not hate you for the next eight weeks."

He takes a burger out of the bag as he leans against the counter while eating it.

"Look man," I start

"No, you look." He begins.

"If it's not obvious I'm not really the 'friendly' type of guy that you might be used to having as a friend. You don't want a person like me as a friend. So don't try. I can live here for two months like my mum wants me to. And I'll even tell her I'm having a good time. But if you're expecting to make a friend out of me stop trying now pretty boy because it's not happening."

He just looks at me after he stops talking.

What a fucking slap in the face...

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AHHHHHH how lame is it that I'm getting excited for my own story. I love you guys ☺️☺️☺️☺️

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