Don't Wake Me Up || Discontinued

Chapter Eleven - They're Looking

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"Where are you? We're worried. You're both gone. We have a concert later. We need you," I listened to the fourth message from Niall, the seventeenth in general. The boys had realized we were missing before sunrise, trying to contact us nonstop since then. We had checked into an inn and were sleeping  when the search first began. Luckily, we slipped the lady at the desk a few pounds not to stay that the runaways, Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson, were staying at Day and Night Inn for the night, or maybe more. She willingly accepted with a little bribe.

I deleted the message from Niall as I had with everyone else's messages, not ready to go back. Maybe, just maybe, we'd go for the concert. But I didn't know if after all this, I wanted to go back. I know, I was living my dream, but not how I wanted to. I was stuck in the closet, all the way in the back, and maybe eve in the wall behind it. I wanted to preform for people and be myself, which clearly didn't happen. Therefore, it was only half of the dream and that wasn't enough.

Harry's head was on my lap, one of my hands tangled in his curls. He was looking at Tumblr, alerts everywhere saying Larry was missing. More than half said we left to have "vigorous butt sexx" and the rest claimed we left due to the constant accusation of us being gay. Honestly, it was neither. We just wanted to get away from it all, be in love. We didn't want restrictions anymore, we wanted to be free. We wanted to be ourselves and running was the only way we could. There was no way that day in and day out, we'd be able to be ourselves if we were on tour with everyone else, even in the bus. I hated it. And I left it.

"Lou?" Harry said, looking up at me. I brushed the fringe out of his green eyes, waiting for more. Nothing.

"Yes?" I said happily, completely nostalgic about tis privacy and time with my boyfriend.

"Are we ever going back?"

"Eventually. . ." I didn't want to think of going back. I didn't want to go. I was too happy here with Harry, us being ourselves. I wanted to live in what we had now and not what will come back. I ha enough of that. I wanted to be with him happily, not hiding.

"I kind of don't want to," he said, looking down towards his feet.

"That makes two of us." He smiled, so I smiled back and kissed him, just so happy about everything and anything. My phone rang, but we just kept kissing. It's not like I was going to answer anyway. For a fact, I knew it was in love with Harry Styles.

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"That's me when they say I cant be with you. Most of the time." I stared at the screen, seeing Olaf getting impaled on an icicle with Harry for the billionth time. It was Harry's favorite movie.

"Me, too. It's like, you have to act like it's no big deal but it hurts like a knife through your heart. I do that. . . a lot." That's the truth. Someone says something that hurts, and you just have to brush it off - your face, thetas, it stays with your heart. And it hurts like hell. Your attitude is I-Don't-Care but your heart is aching with emotions you don't want to feel. Oh, I've been impaled!

"It makes me sad."

"Ditto, Harry." He slouched and leaned on my shoulder, pushed his cheek against me. I put my head on his and pulled the blankets up higher, snuggling with my Harry-baby. I blackly looked at the Telly, not really caring about the child's move. I was more interested in re-living the past, when Harry and I didn't have to write on our skin to show the world that yes, we are in love.

I remember everything. I remember "And I'd marry you, Harry." and "Always in my heart" and all the "I love you" that were muttered, being able to sit near each other and be together and not have to act like string puppets. None of it was blurry, and that was the worst part. It felt like yesterday, meanwhile it was years ago. It was almost 1460 days ago, not one. Not even close. I missed it so, so much. The thing I worried about the most was that I'd never have it back. A tear rolled down my cheek, which I quickly stopped, but the rest wasn't. I was crying, crying, crying and it didn't stop. There were no signs of stopping. It was only getting worse. It kept going. And going and going and going. Harry was sure to notice.

"It's raining on my head," he joked, then looked up once again. "Loubear, please don't cry."

"Ignore me. Watch the movie. I'm fine."

"I know you've been impaled, and its okay." I punched his shoulder. Oh, have I been impaled.

"You're in idiot."

"I know I am. But you love me."

"I really, really do." he sat up, engulfing me in his strong arms. I'm safe here.

"I miss it."

"There's a lot of things to miss, silly!" I know, I wanted to say because I didn't want to talk about it. I wanted to forget I even had this break down, and more importantly, I didn't want Harry sad, too.

"Before. . ." I said, not really saying the particulars. He rubbed my back and talked soothing words, but I failed to listen. I paid attention to the pattern on my back, not wanting to be in the world. I wanted to be somewhere else. I began to drift off to sleep until someone banged on the door. Louis held up his hand and left, getting the door. Then he stopped. He shook his head and came back to bed. This was our world. Alone.

"Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson, you're missing persons. Get up and out. You need to leave. Its the police."

[A/N: Sorry for the mix-up with the update. I failed and updated I Choose You when I was supposed to update this one. I apologize. I was just so excited to write both (because both had cliffhangers), I went straight to the other one. I'll try not to let it happen again.

Anyway, im trying really hard with the not-cliché Larry fic, so if you could tell me if im failing or not would be helpful. Thanks!

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