Sex Therapy//L.S

Eleven

Harry woke up the next day feeling numb. Numb to everything. Numb to words, to feelings. To Louis. He looked down at his phone, not surprised at seeing that no one had texted him. He felt a dull pain in his head, and maybe he felt the sudden urge to puke, but he stayed laying in his bed and staring at the ceiling.

"Harry, it's almost noon. You have an appointment today." Harry's mom called out from the other side of the door.

That's what made Harry stand up and puke into his trash can. He let tears fall down his face, not letting out any noise. He took a long shower, longer than necessary due to the thoughts of Louis that were stuck in his mind.

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"Harry. You are seriously not throwing a fit right now." Anne scolded as Harry sat in the passenger seat, refusing to put on his seatbelt.

"I told you I don't want to go yet you make me anyways. Do you think I'm just gonna give in?" Harry said as he kept his hateful glare on the floor in front of him. Anne sighed and began driving anyways, ignoring Harry's angered attitude.

The drive to Louis' house was quiet, not a word said between Anne and her son. When they arrived, Harry felt himself start to break out into a sweat. A cold, anxious sweat. Harry got out of the car, watching his mother drive away moments after as he stared up at the house.

He gave three shy knocks on the door, his gaze focused on the ground so he wouldn't have to be met with the mans face. He heard the door open in front of him, but made no effort to look up.

"I really didn't think you would come." Louis' words coaxed Harry's eyes towards him, and Harry took in his appearance. He wore a pair of grey sweatpants, and had no shirt on. He looked tired with his deep eye bags and his ruffled hair. Harry just wanted to pounce on him.

"I didn't want to come, so." Harry said back as he stepped into the familiar house. Louis shut the door behind him and stood in front of Harry.

"That was so immature of you. Do you know how embarrassing that was? How much that could've effected me?" Louis said, Harry's eyes blank with emotion.

"I don't care. Really, I couldn't care less." Harry mouthed off. He walked over into the living room and took a seat on one of the leather couches as Louis followed close behind him.

"You're so fucking lucky she thought you were full of shit, Harry. I could be in fucking jail right now!"

"Good! I wouldn't have to fucking look at you!" Harry yelled back, clenching his fists. Harry's comment created an awkward silence, Louis' face full of anger and sadness.

"That's how you really feel?" Louis asked with a quieter tone.

"There's nothing to feel for you anymore Louis. You can't just fuck me, get a divorce from your wife, fuck me again and then go on a date with some girl. What the fuck is wrong with you?" Harry asked as he rose his voice again. Louis suddenly went at a loss for words. What was wrong with him? Why did he treat Harry the way he did, after everything?

"Go. Get out." Louis said without thinking. He pointed towards the door, Harry's face taking on a shocked expression.

"Oh! I'm so sorry I'm such a fucking disturbance to you. Sorry, I'll be on my way. But not before I call Zayn, I'll maybe just fuck him or something, you know? Get a rush out of it. Maybe even ask him on a date afterwards. Because at least he wouldn't stab my fucking back the moment things get better." Harry hissed out, standing suddenly and rushing towards the door before Louis got another word out.