I don't know how long I've been here, but it's now dark. I'm in a ball on the floor, Michael's arms around my middle. I haven't been asleep, but my eyes hurt from the lack of fluid in them. I'm not crying anymore, but I'm sobbing just slightly now, making sounds under my breath. I'm embarrassed at my outburst, certain that the boys downstairs had heard me. I'm slowly, but surely snapping out of it, and Michael's arms tighten around me in response. It's very welcoming, but I don't lean back into it.
"Are you hungry, Lou?" He asks, meekly, not wanting to set me off again. He gently runs his hands through my hair, and my stomach growls loudly. I haven't eaten all day. He laughs gently, but I don't laugh back. "I'll be right back."
"Thank you." I manage.
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I'm woken up the next morning to my phone text tone going off loudly, breaking the silence. I look up at my clock, noticing it's 10:23am. I must've needed that. I'm feeling much better now, my feelings well and truly locked up.
Don't let them in, don't let them see.
Stop quoting Frozen, love.
I groan, pulling myself over my bed. White light filters through the room, making the room look cold and almost grey. I'm aware that my feathery hair has stuck to my forehead in a knot from crying and it's drying there. I comb my fingers to pull it off, thinking that I will definitely have to wash.
I grab my iPhone, peering at it through one eye, and see I've got a text from an unknown number, so I unlock it. I always keep my phone pin-locked, especially as I keep old photos and texts on there from him. I don't know why I don't just delete them. Maybe I like torture.
From: Unknown
Hi.
It's Harry.
Just letting you know we've got a 'dinner date' tomorrow.
Lou will come and make you look presentable at 5. -HWow. My eyes won't leave the word 'presentable' and just like that the word is running over and over again in my mind, imagining every connotation it represents. It shouldn't hurt me, because I haven't cared about my image in so long.
This is going to be torture. I can't believe we're dating. A whole year. He's not even gay. He must know now that I'm gay.
I fall back onto my pillows after adding Harry's number into my phone.
Groan.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ding dong.
This 'Lou' is here. I've never met her before but I understand that she styles the guys so I feel like she must know what she's doing. They all look pretty well done up when they're in the public view.
I open the door to a smiling blonde lady, and I feel myself relaxing slightly. At least I'll have a friendly face while I'm being tortured.
"Hi, love," She says, almost sympathetically, "Here I am." I move aside so she can bring her bags in. And when I mean bags, they're bloody big bags too.
"Hey," My voice is quiet. I'm not sure what to expect. "Lou, right?" I ask.
"Lou Teasdale, yeah. Nice to meet you." She takes my hand and shakes it, smiling through her red lips. She puts her bags down just to the right of our L shaped sofas, and claps her hands together loudly, immediately gaining my attention.
"I'm going to cut straight to the chase, babe. Management want you to be stunning. 'Harry only dates well dressed people'." She says, clearly quoting one of them. At the world stunning, I'm moaning out loud.
YOU ARE READING
Broken Repair (Larry Stylinson)
Lãng mạnLouis lives in London, England with his best friend Michael. He is who he is, and thats loud, cheeky and fun. And did I mention he was gay? He's covered in tattoos and curses a lot. Getting over a horrible break up, Louis is struggling. But what hap...