The Styles Brothers | Harry Styles

Chapter 58.

He is such a sucker. I thought he trusted me but obviously not. Who the hell is texting him and what the hell does those text contain. Is it some sort of threats he is receiving, is he seeing another girl who keeps texting him or is it just his mom or dad, who the hell knows. What I know is that I am tired of his constant emotion swifts. 

He is so much like Harry, how comes it that i haven't noticed. They have two completely different personalities but at the sam time they're so much alike. It is confusing.

The house is empty, Joe is no where to be seen and his bags isn't even packed yet. Neither are mine but at least I am home to do it. 

I find one of my bags and put in on the bed. How cold is it in England at the moment? We are in the middle of october so I guess it is like about 12 degrees or something so I have to be quite packed in.

I throw a few of my warmest sweaters in the bag and 3 pair of jeans. I have a few clothes leftovers from home which I didn't bring to America because I knew that I probably wouldn't need it. 

After packing my bag I am completely gutted. I am tired and I most likely would probably just lay down and sleep right now if it wasn't because it was only 5pm. I walk out into the kitchen and make myself some pasta, as usual. I am getting tired of pasta all the time, I can't believe I am saying, thinking, this but I am more than excited to go home and eat some of my moms home cooked food. 

I scroll through Instagram while eating my food and I notice that Harry have posted a photo of him and some friends and if I'm not wrong he is holding either a cigarette or a joint in his hand. So he is back to the person he was when he left England although he looks like he his having a good time.

After a little while I find myself scrolling through Harrys profile. He has lots of pictures of him at parties and with girls. He even posted a photo of a girl sleeping on possibly his bed only covered by a blanket and his text is ''Had a wild night.'' He is such a player, ugh.

I clean up the dishes and sit down on the couch, turning on the tv scrolling through the many boring channels. Finally I find a channel where they're not streaming something extremely boring and I end up watching Friends for 2 hours. 

Josephs face finally appears in the living room and he looks wasted. Oh god, he got to be fucking kidding me.

''Are you drunk?''

''A little.'' He stutters and sits on the right side of the couch. It doesn't take long until he is laying down with his head on my lap, breathing liquor in my face. Disgusting.

''Joe we are supposed to be leaving for England tomorrow and then you stumble through the door, drunk as hell!'' I yell at him.

This is probably one of the first times I have actually been really mad at Joe. How dare he getting drunk and just stumble through the door expecting me to not care at all. We are leaving for England tomorrow and he haven't packed a thing yet and he definitely isn't sober enough to pack them now. It is 9pm. Who gets drunk that early? How did he even get home? I surely hopes that someone drove him because if he drove himself I don't know how to punish him.

''Shh!'' His finger is in a straight line over his lips and his eyes are closed.

God dammit Joe. I stand up and let him sleep on the couch. Now I am stood with the job of packing his bags, he better be grateful as hell.

He has so many fucking clothes and I can't decide wether to pack the black or the green shirt. I go with the black because he wears that more often and it suits him a lot better. When I am finally done packing his bags I walk back to the living room where Joe is passed out on the couch. I won't wake him because I know he will wake up, his whole body in pain because he slept that bad plus the fact that he is forced to sit on a plane for about 11 hours. Poor him.

…

I wake up to the sound of Joe throwing up. I almost run to the bathroom and there he is, his head buried in the toilet. I sit down next to him and tug at his hair. He is feeling really bad and he keeps throwing up. I run my hand up and down his back in an attempt to comfort him but fail miserably. Why am I even helping him, I am supposed to be mad at him.

Because he is your brother you idiot. My annoying subconscious reminds me.

He is my brother and I should always be there for him when he needs it, right now he looks like he need it. I can't believe I actually treated him so bad, and while he was drunk. I feel so guilty.

''Go away.'' He mumbles and I tug a little harder at his hair.

''Please, leave me alone.'' He turns around and leans against the toilet.

Why does he want me to leave him alone now, I am the one who is supposed to be mad at him, not him to be mad at me. Maybe he is just extremely drunk, yes he is. I've never actually seen Joe drunk. Back in England he came home a bit wasted sometimes and he stumbled through the front door, but I've never actually seen him drunk. 

His opens his eyes and he can't focus on anything. His eyes are red and his head keeps falling. He doesn't have the energy to hold his own head. This is bad. How much have he been drinking?

''Come on, you have to go to bed.'' I stand up and hold onto his arm in an attempt to make him stand up but he doesn't. He just sits their.

I notice something different about him immediately. No fucking way, I doesn't have the energy or power to take a fight with him right now. What time is it even? I look at the clock on the wall and notice the big red sign with the numbers 04:37. 

''Are you high?''

''I don't know.''

''Do you remember anything?''

''No,'' He burps. ''not really.''

''Are you mad at me?'' I know that it isn't a good idea to ask him all these questions right now, but I feel like I kinda have to.

''Yes.''

''Why?'' 

''Stop talking,'' He fumble around with his hands and they finally find my mouth. He covers it with both of his hands and his head still keeps falling. ''just take me to bed.'' He holds out a hand for me to help him stand up and I follow him to bed.

He is asleep immediately. Thank god.

...

I wake up to my alarm going off at 9am. I am so tired that I barely remember Josephs annoying behavior. He was high, drunk, everything at the same time and I was so pissed off. At least now I know how Joe acts out when he is drunk.

I roll over in my bed and check my phone. 3 missed calls. Liam. I haven't told him that I was going to England today and he is probably worried because I didn't show up at iHop nor answered any of his calls. I quickly text him sorry and that I'll see him soon. I let out the fact that I am going to England, he doesn't need to know that, no one does. 

After doing all of my makeup and putting on some comfortable clothes I head into Josephs room just to check if he is up. He is to my surprise...