Remember Me? (Larry Stylinson)

Ch 12: Utterly Lost

Harry's P.O.V.

After twenty minutes of not hearing the shower running, I went up to check if Louis was still going to take one or not. I checked the bathroom only to find nobody there. I figured he was still in his room, so I went to see, but it was empty. I popped my head outside the room and called his name.

No answer. I walked back into his room and checked behind the door, maybe he was just pulling a prank. Then it caught my eye. Lying on his comforter, a piece of stark white paper, words hastily scribbled on.

I scanned it quickly and my heart thumped wildly against my chest. Shit.

"LOUIS!" I scream even though I know it's pointless. He's long gone. Where'd he even go? He doesn't even know where- I pause. Fuck. He doesn't know where anything is, so he doesn't know how to get back here. If he asks someone, they'll either 1. know where two members of One Direction live, which might actually make us have to move; or 2. be recognized and be questioned or worse,.. paps.

I run down the stairs, grab my phone, jacket and keys, and rush out. His car's here, so he's out alone walking, with no memory. I jump into my car and shove the key's into the ignition. I quickly call Liam and tell him Louis left the house and we need to go look for him. He starts screaming chants of "How could you let this happen?"

"Liam, I know, I know, I don't know how he just left, out of the blue! Just, tell Zayn and Niall and start circling the neighborhood. Call me if you find him." I end the call quickly and pull myself together. I back out of the driveway, and start looking. I try to ignore it, but I have this gut feeling.

If anything happens to Louis, it's your fault.

******

Louis' P.O.V.

Before I know it, it's noon, and I have no clue where I am. I've been walking forever, I'm tired, hungry, have no money, memory, or way of getting home.

I'm currently walking through this little cluster of sidewalks I found. I would've taken the main road, but I was too afraid of being recognized. In all honesty though, I still don't really feel famous. I'm just Louis. No different from yesterday. Well, except the last week I remember was technically two years ago. And I have a fake girlfriend. And loads of tattoos. And I live in London with a guy that I might possibly, truly, have a somewhat large crush on. But other than that,.. I mean.. pffft.

I spot a little street, sort of shady, but still bustling. There's a little coffee shop. I don't have any money, and the whole "famous" thing, but if I walk any further, I'll fall over since I'm so tired. The bell chimes as I open the door. It's not as busy as I expected. There's an old couple sitting at a table, a few waitresses walking around, a man with two little boys, and what looks to be two-

"Louis Tomlinson!" One girl shouts.

-teenage girls. Fuck.

I give a small, nervous, smile, and take a seat at the bar stool. The girls rush over.

"Hi, I'm really sorry to bother you, but can I preeeetty pleaseee have a picture?" The non-shouter asked.

"Erm, you want a picture? With me?" I ask, surprised, this really hasn't sunken in.

The girls exchange a worried glance. "So it's true, isn't it?" the shouter asks, almost a whisper.

"What?" I ask even though I already know.

"The memory loss. You have memory loss, don't you?" She asks, almost as if she's about to cry.

I glance around the coffee shop, and then give a slight nod. The girls sit down next to me.