No Strings Attached

Chapter Thirteen

“Louis? Lou, please pick up. Please.” 

That was the entirety of Harry’s first voicemail message. And from what Louis could tell, he had at least six more to go through. 

He sighed, sprawled on his bed and exhausted from last night’s difficulty sleeping. He had heard his phone ring throughout the night, but he couldn’t bring himself to answer it. Something like remorse weighed him down, and only perpetuated itself the longer he held off on answering one of Harry’s calls. 

“Hey Lou. It’s…well, it’s me again,” the third message began. This time, Harry managed a soft chuckle. “Listen, Zayn’s snoring right now and I’m sure it’s driving the other blokes mad. Would you come over and pick him up for us?” This time, the laugh that followed ended somewhat brokenly, like he had given up before he could finish. “Would you please just…come over?” 

Louis groaned; he hadn’t meant to leave Zayn behind. But when he stormed into the living room and swept Rosie into his arms, he didn’t feel like waiting for his best mate, who had fallen asleep on the couch. He mumbled his goodbyes to a confused Niall and Liam, mentioned a brief apology for making so much noise and leaving Zayn behind, and left. He felt like a right prat. 

“I shouldn’t have done it – not like that,” the final message began, and Harry sounded weary and defeated. “You’re probably asleep – of course you’re asleep, I’m an idiot – and to be honest, I’m falling asleep as well. Bright side, I’m no longer drunk. Yay…” Another soft noise that could have been mistaken for hitched breath, a chuckle, or a sob. “Look, Lou. I know you don’t want to talk to me right now, I know that. But when – if you wake up feeling differently, please…give me a call. There’s a lot I want to say and I’m…I’m not going to lie, I’m fucking miserable here. So please, call me tomorrow. And sorry for saying ‘please’ so much.” He held his breath like he was going to say something else, but moments of silence passed and he must have reconsidered because that was the end of the message. 

Guilt. It was what Louis had fallen asleep with, it was what he had woken up with, and it was what wracked his mind right now after having spent the past fifteen minutes listening to Harry’s voicemails. In fact, it was all he could feel the moment he slammed Harry’s door last night. Almost instantly, he wanted to turn around and walk back into the bedroom and apologize. 

It wasn’t too late, he decided. 

Staring at his phone, he weighed his options. It was either ‘call’ or ‘don’t call.’ And really, the answer was almost too simple, too obvious. 

He reached over and dialed the number he didn’t even realize he knew by heart; looking through his contact book would only make things go slower. 

Disregarding the fact that it might be too early to call, he held his breath while he let the line ring. By the fourth ring, he considered giving up. Until –

“Hello?” Harry’s voice was thick and groggy; Louis had woken him up. 

“Ah shit,” he responded, unable to help himself. “Erm, you’re sleeping. Shit, sorry. I’ll call back.” 

“Wait…Louis?” 

“Yeah,” he answered softly. “Hi, Haz. Go back to bed, mate. I didn’t mean to wake you – ” 

“No,” Harry said abruptly, suddenly sounding very awake. “Don’t leave again.” 

He winced. That felt like a blow to the chest. 

“Alright then,” Louis managed slowly. “I’m not leaving. I’m right here.” 

Shuffling noises on the other end told him that Harry was probably untangling himself from his sheets and sitting upright in bed. He didn’t mind; hearing any of the sounds Harry made at all felt like some sort of privilege.