memory lane [l.s.]

chapter one

the pounding headache, tense and weak muscles, confusion,  dry mouth, craving for water. louis knew it all to well. he had woken up with these feelings over and over again, never really getting used to how painful waking up from a night of nonstop drinking could be. although the pain in his muscles seemed to be a lot worse this time. a light was shining through the blinds, causing louis to sigh. he had always closed his blinds to make sure the sun wouldn't come through on days where he woke up like this. and that's when he realized he was not in his own bed.

it wasn't uncommon for louis to wake up in a stranger's bed. after so many nights of unsupervised drinking, he had wandered home with a stranger a few times. it just wasn't something he completely enjoyed dealing with the morning after. the awkward conversation, the avoiding eye contact, the guilt. the guilt was usually what got to him the most. he always felt dirty, like he had done something so morally wrong.

louis used to believe in all of that hopeless romantic shit. not the whole thing about fate and having one predestined true love, but that loving someone was supposed to mean something. it was supposed to be important. it wasn't kissing and having sex. it was treating them special, holding them, cherishing every moment with them. it was love for love, not love for sex. he used to believed in all of it. but, that was when he had all of it. when he had his person.

he sat up from the bed slowly, blinking rapidly to avoid a head rush and a wave of dark vision. he had never seen the room before, not that he had expected to. part of him had been hoping that maybe matt or josh had taken him to their flat. that he hadn't left the club and had a scandalous night with some stranger. but evidently, he had. 

the room was small, yet cozy. the walls were painted white with numerous painting hung up throughout. some of the paintings were photography while some were sketched. it seemed like whoever's room this was had painted them and hung them up. they were rather good, louis thought to himself.

he pushed the covers to the side of his legs, only now realizing that he was, oddly, fully dressed. he still had on his black t shirt and adidas sweatpants from the night before. he then realized how awful he smelled of alcohol, deciding he probably ended up spilling a drink or two on himself last night. not that he could remember any of it. the last thing he remembered was matt at the bar, trying to convince louis to stop drinking. if only he had listened.

he finally rose to his feet, taking all of the energy he had to push himself off of the fluffy and comfortable mattress. he rubbed the sleep from his eyes with a sigh before walking toward the wooden door that had been left open. as soon as he stepped into the hall his senses were overwhelmed my the smell of bacon and eggs. he could hear noises coming from down the hall and decided to follow it. he put one foot in front of the other, observing the coral painted hall. there were no paintings hung, like there had been in the bedroom. not that he had any right or time to be judging the interior design of the home. the wooden floors were cold against his feet as he approached a door that lead into a vast space filled with two couches and a tv set. from where he was standing, he could see the kitchen past the living room. he couldn't see much over the countertops, but louis could just make out a man with jet black hair.

louis never usually slept with men. not that he wasn't into it, just that he couldn't bring himself to. after everything he had been through in the past, after all of the backlash against his sexuality from his managers, he stopped openly liking boys. 

he could hear the guy softly humming a song, his voice sounding oddly familiar. louis approached the kitchen slowly, not in a strange and lurking way, but not wanting to scare or surprise the boy. as he approached the countertops that created a barrier between the kitchen and the living room, the man became more clear. he was dressed in a grey tshirt and blue sweatpants that were hung low on his waist. he was small yet muscular and it was evident by the muscles flexing through the back of his shirt that he worked out.