Apartment 309 [Larry AU]

Chapter 10

[unedited]

Harry's P.O.V.

Waking up alone can be scary, makes you feel abandoned, especially when it's after you were crying your eyes out. However, when Louis' not by my side when I wake up, I understand. Who would enjoy staying with someone as fucked up as me? I mean, it's obvious I'm giving mixed signals; I'm nice to him at the arcade, then turn on him when he reveals he's gay. I drunkenly just about give him a blow job, then blow up at him. And then, to top it all off, I fucking jack off to him then break down like a fucking baby, no less kissing him! Yes I remember. I may have been mostly asleep, but who can forget that kind of kiss? That spark? I wonder if he felt it too.

I like Louis. A lot, if you couldn't tell. Despite only knowing him a few day, there's always been this strange magnetic pull between me and him. It must mean something, right? I doubted it at first, definitely not wanting to have any sort of relationship, but after the kiss, I knew for certain. I, Harry Edward Styles, like Louis William Tomlinson.

The problem is that I can't. I decided two years ago that I would have no sexual or romantic relationships with any boy. None. I've been fine up until now, too! Fucking Louis. Why did he have to show up in my life? I was perfectly fine before he came along, receiving the “bad boy” image and fucking countless girl, despite feeling nothing. There hasn't once been a boy that I feel the need to be with. Up until now, that is.

I push my thoughts aside and decide to have a shower, finding my lower half and hand still covered in cum. I quickly head to the bathroom across the hall, trying to avoid Louis, and promptly shut and lock the door. I breathe a sigh of relief when I didn't get confronted by Louis. Heaven knows that wouldn't be a good talk; however, it will have to come eventually.

After turning on the shower, I strip myself of my sticky clothes and dispose of them in the dirty clothes hamper. I step into the hot water and sigh as I feel it going down my back, releasing the tension in my body. I slowly wash my body, loving the feeling of the water on my skin. After rinsing my hair of the shampoo, I turn off the shower and get out, freezing when I realize I forgot a towel and clothes. I gently open the door and peek out to see Louis laying on the couch facing away from me. I breathe a sigh of relief, but still hurriedly cross the hall to my bedroom.

After drying myself off with a towel from my luggage, randomly pulling on my ripped skinny jeans and Matt Costa t-shirt. I lay in my bed just trying to decide what to do. Do I face Louis? Do I stay locked up in my room forever? I finally decide I would much rather face Louis than starve to death, so I decide to leave my room and face whatever I may. I get up from my bed and gradually make my way to the door. I wait a moment, taking a deep breath before I muster up enough courage to leave my room. I walk down the hall a bit shakily, then decide it's best to just forget everything that happened. Why didn't I think of that before?

I casually stroll through the living room to the kitchen and open the fridge, not once looking over to Louis. I stay standing there a moment, pretending to look through the fridge, but I'm not really hungry. When minutes have passed without Louis saying anything, I turn, about to yell at him for pretending nothing happened, despite doing it myself, only to find him asleep on the couch. I instantly soften at his peaceful face and quietly walk over to him, careful to not wake him up. Being closer, I can see the way his eyelashes flutter artfully against his cheeks. How his perfect thin lips are parted only to let out soft snores. I can't help but lean down and place a gentle kiss against them, feeling the same spark from before. I pull away, realizing what I've done, but I don't regret it one bit. Who would regret kissing such a person as Louis? The only thing I'm able to do in that moment is whisper, “I'm sorry.” I'm sorry for my terrible past. I'm sorry for all the things I've done. I'm sorry for all of the things I'm bound to do in the future. I'm sorry for being the fuck-up that I am.