Don't Leave Me Here (Harry Styles x Cher Lloyd x Louis Tomlinson)

Chapter 15: Harry

Harry

It’s been three hours since I’ve tried to Skype Louis but it was useless. He wouldn’t answer my call. Cher was taking a quick nap because she was tired of throwing up. I tried and tried and tried to call Louis in any way possible but he was—in all ways—unavailable.

I was repeatedly dialing his number while listening to Cher’s low, calm breathing. She looked like an angel. She had no makeup on, (which I thought was beautiful) her eyes were open a tad bit, showing her chocolate orbs. Her eyes were beautiful. I could stare at them for God knows how long yet not getting myself bored.

But that specific pair kept many thoughts and secrets. Just by looking at them, I could tell if something was wrong or not. She could hide but whenever I look at her, I see her, uncovered.

I was drowned in thought when a male voice said, “Harreh?”

I snapped out of my trance and realized that Louis FINALLY answered the call. “Finally, Boobear! I’ve been calling for like… forever!”

“Sorry, I was busy.” I waited for him to ask that question that I expected him to ask but all he said was, “So…?”

“So… aren’t you gonna ask me something?” I replied.

He thought for a while. “No, not that I know of.”

“Ouch. That would probably” I looked at Cher’s sleeping figure. “-hurt her feelings.”

“Huh?” He asked, completely dumbfounded.

“Aren’t you supposed to ask if Cher’s okay? You are her boyfriend.” I paused. “Or… are you?”

“Yeah, I guess.”  I waited for the question. “So how is she?” He asked though I swear he wasn’t completely curious.

“Oh, you know. She’s doing fine. She’s feeling perfect, she’s up and roaming, she’s happy.” I paused. “Not. SHE’S FREAKIN PREGNANT AND YOU DON’T EVEN GIVE A DAMN?!” I yelled.

Cher twisted in her sleep and her eyes fluttered open. “Haz?” She asked, groggily.

“Yes, Cher?”

“Who were you talkin— OMG, is that Louis?” She shot up. “Ow. That made me dizzy.” She covered her face with her hands while I put and arm around her. She rested her head on my shoulder and massaged her temples.

“Look,” I whispered into the sleek, black iPhone, “Don’t make her cry. One wince from her… you’re dead.” I said angrily. On a regular basis, that would be meant as a joke but the thought of Louis verbally hurting my ex (who I still love) was unthinkable.

I handed the phone to Cher. “Here. Tell me if he hurts you.”

She got the phone from me and said, “Louis?... Fine… No… I can’t… Are you coming here?... Why not?... Oh…” Tears were escaping. “That’s okay… I understand… Sure you will.” She said that last part sarcastically. “Look, just say it to me straight… I mean, tell me that you’ve been avoiding me… Don’t lie. Please… Fine… Whatever… I can’t tell. What?... Are you breaking up with me?... Fine… I can’t say the same. ” She gave the phone back to me.

I put it against my ear to check if he was still there and he wasn’t.

Cher started crying heartbroken sobs.

“Cher, what did he tell you? Why are you crying?” I asked while she buried her face on the crook of my neck. She shook her head.

“Nothing.” She replied.

“CherBear, tell me.” I said calmly.

“He… Louis… UGH!” She screamed and I hugged her tighter.

“Shh! Shh! It’s okay. Shush. Please don’t cry, Cher. It hurts me too.”

“I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can.” I put my finger on her chin and lifted it so we were eye-to-eye. “Cher, trust me.” I pleaded.

From her eyes, my eyes trailed down her face and stopped on her lips. They parted ever so slightly. I marveled at them, memorizing every line, crack, color, shade of the color, how shiny they are, their texture, how plump they are, their shape and how they would fit perfectly into mine…

Cher noticed me staring and cringed away from me a little.

“Sorry.” I mumbled, almost unintelligible. “So,” I said louder. “Are you telling me what Boobear told you?”

She shook her head.

“C’mon, Cher.” I took her hand. “Tell Hazza, the great Styles.” I grinned.

She hesitated. “He said…”