Uni (A Larry Stylinson Story) ✅

Dizzy

Louis' POV

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I dragged myself up off the floor, using the toilet seat to help leverage myself. After throwing up six times, my vision was starting to blur and my legs felt weak.

But I couldn't stay in here much longer... Harry could come in at any time and then I would lose my shit even more.

Shaking, I pulled myself to my feet and stumbled out of the bathroom stall. As I walked out, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror and cringed. I was so fucking disgusting. No wonder everyone hated me...

When I entered my room, I immediately collapsed on my bed and began sobbing into my pillow. All I really wanted was someone to comfort me, to tell me everything would be okay. But there wasn't a single person I could trust at this school... or in life really.

I stared at my phone, my head rushing with a million and one ways to hurt myself, and began shaking. What the fuck was wrong me with me that I was so unlovable? That Harry, my own boyfriend, would rather spend time with my fucking toxic ex than me? Why could nothing ever go right for me? Why was I like this?

As I thought about what had just transpired in the library, I felt like I wanted to be sick all over again. But my stomach ached and my throat stung with acid. I knew there was nothing left in my stomach at this point— during my final purge, I had thrown up nothing but blood and bile.

Unable to deal with the pain sober, I hopped out of bed and took out a bottle of vodka from my closet. I began to chug it straight from the bottle, ignoring the burning in my throat as I tried to drown my pain in the clear, potent substance.

A few minutes and half a bottle later, my skin felt warm and I started to feel better. I giggled a bit as I knocked into my desk, my mind growing fuzzy. "Fuck Harry," I murmured to myself. "He was the worst boyfriend ever."

I opened my phone and looked through my contacts, thinking of who I should text. Fuck Harry for what he did to me. Fuck Niall for being associated with Harry. Fuck my shit head fake friends from first year. Fuck Zayn for being a dick....

Zayn. Dick. Zayn's Dick. Hmm... didn't that sound good right about now? I hovered my finger over his contact and contemplated sending him a text.

Fuck it, I thought. Who cares if he didn't answer. I'd just send a quick text.

I typed out my text to him:

Hey. Thought about what you said. Want to come over and talk?

I smiled and giggled at my wittiness. If I typed out a drunk booty call in the middle of the day on a Saturday, Zayn would never respond. But if I pretended I was accepting his apology and wanted to have a discussion, he would probably come running over.

I waited a few minutes, compulsively checking my phone as I awaited his response. I decided to eat some cereal while I was waiting — completely undoing the purging I had just put myself through a few minutes ago.

Snacking mindlessly, I jumped back onto my bed and started playing a video game on my phone for a bit. Lol what are video games even? Like who makes them? I wondered.

Fuck. It had been 20 minutes and god damn Zayn hadn't answered. Like why... why did he have to be that way?

Sighing, I rolled over in my bed and started to doze off. It was just so warm, so soft. Kind of like Harry. But no more Harry... not anymore.

I cried a little, thinking of how he was gone forever. Because of me. But he deserved it. He wanted to hang out with Liam. And Liam was so evil and....

*******************************************
I woke up to the sound of a knock at the door. My head swimming, I stumbled towards it, grabbing a water bottle to wash the alcohol taste out of my mouth.

Then, I slicked back my hair and slapped my face a cheeks a bit. I wanted to appear less pale and sickly than I actually was.

Keep it together, Lou, I told myself. You're fine. You're absolutely fine.

I opened the door slowly and then stood in the doorway, staring at my visitor.

Oh.

My.

God.