Extricate // l.s

4

Three weeks.

Harry hasn't texted me in three weeks and I was beginning to grow worried. The last time I ever talked to him was when we went out for coffee. I wanted to message him and ask him if he was okay but I didn't want to seem like that type. So, I just sat back and waited patiently.

"Hey, Lou? Can you help Lottie rearrange her things in her room? She's moving things around and I keep hearing her groan and scream." Mum asked, poking her head into my room and chuckling a bit.

I nodded, a smile coming to my lips. "Sure, mum."

I made my way down the hall to my younger sister's bedroom and took a deep breath in before entering. Posters and merchandise with his face on them were everywhere. I tried to evert my eyes and find my sister. I found her crouched behind her dresser, picking up some screws she had dropped.

"Need some assistance?"

She jumped nearly five feet in the air. "Dammit, Louis, you nearly scared the piss out of me! Don't do that!" She yelled, shoving me lightly after setting the screws gently on her dresser.

"Don't let mum hear you swear. She'll have your ass. So what are you up to? Remodeling?" I asked, still keeping my eyes off of her belongings that involved him.

"You could say that. I just wanted a change." She shrugged. "Hey, I can trust you, right?"

"Of course you can, Lots." I replied immediately, wondering why she would ask such a ridiculous question.

She scratched the back of her neck. "Well, when we were leaving the concert, I saw something scribbled on your arm. What was it and why did you cover it up so fast?"

Shit. This was exactly what I didn't want her finding out. "Uh... Just some notes from class the day before." I blurted out quickly.

She cocked her head. "It was during winter break..."

Fuck. I was cornered now. I would need to tell the truth or something close to the truth to get out of this. That was when I got it.

"Fine, you got me. As I was talking to Harry, he asked about you and said he wanted to talk more so I had him write his number on my arm. I wanted you to be happy." I lied completely but grinned when I saw that she bought it.

She was grinning from ear to ear. "Really?! What was the number? I'll text it right now! Oh my god, this is so exciting." She moved frantically around her room, searching for her phone. When she finally discovered it, she ran over to me and waited for me to tell her the number.

I was debating whether or not I should tell her the real number or not. If she does text him and he replied, that would just confirm that he was avoiding me. So, I gave it to her.

She wrapped her thin arms around me after she sent the text to him and I couldn't help but feel a stabbing pain in the pit of my stomach. Didn't I do the right thing?

"He replied! Holy shit, that was fast. He's probably not that busy since his tour is nearly over." She said after five minutes.

So he has been avoiding me... Or he just forgot about me.

"What'd he say?" I couldn't help but ask, sitting beside her on her unmade bed.

"Hold on, let me get to it." She said, scrolling through her messages to get to him. She clicked on it and her eyes squinted at the screen in confusion. "He asked about you? What the hell? You don't even like him! This must be some kind of misunderstanding."

I shrugged my shoulders. "Dunno. What'd he say about me?"

"He just asked how you were. Maybe he's just being friendly." She sighed, scratching the back of her neck before replying to the message. "I'll just tell him you died."

My eyes widened at her. "Lottie, what the hell?"

"What? Maybe it'll give me an excuse to meet him again." She shrugged. "Fine, I won't. I guess it would be a little morbid."

"A little?" I laughed and ruffled her hair. "Have fun, kiddo. Be nice."

She rolled her eyes at me and I left her room. I went into my own and grabbed my phone, checking for any notifications. There were none. I sighed heavily and sat on the edge of my bed, my phone still in my hands. We seemed to hit it off well at the coffee shop and had a fun time the time we were together so why would he just forget? Maybe he didn't enjoy it. Maybe he was faking a smile the whole time.

I started brainstorming on what to do until it finally came to me. It might not be the best idea but  it was the best I could hope for. I sprung up from the bed and entered Lottie's room to find her still glued to her phone.

"Hey, Lots. I have a question." I started off, leaning against her doorframe with my arms crossed over my chest.

She hummed in response, not even looking up from her phone. She was only half paying attention. Perfect.

"Do you know where Harry is right now? Like, location wise?"

"London." She replied instantly, still typing on her screen.

I smiled at that. "Thanks, sis." With that, I descended back my bedroom to think this whole thing over.

If he wasn't going to talk to me, then I was going to talk to him.

-

Three weeks.

My outbursts had been getting worse and Jeff has had me seeing a therapist for three weeks now. Everything is spiraling out of control. Three weeks ago, I was almost okay. I had one of the best days of my life but after I left that little one with the cheekbones, everything changed.

I was having these reoccurring dreams about him. Good and bad. It wouldn't end. Now, there was a man that sat on my shoulder and gave me advice on my love life. God, what the hell was wrong with me?

"Hey, Harry. Your next session is in ten minutes." Jeff told me, giving me a look from the kitchen. He thought I was insane.

I simply nodded my head and headed out of the room. Might as well be a little early. The office was only about a block from the hotel we were staying at so it wasn't a long walk. When I arrived, the receptionist told my therapist I was here and I got to head right in.

He sat in his chair, a clipboard in his hands. "Good afternoon, Styles."

"Good afternoon, Malik." I replied back, sinking into the couch across from him.

"I already told you to call me Zayn, did I not?" He sassed. "Now, how have you been?"

I snorted. "Considering I have a man sitting on my shoulder telling me what to do, a homophobic manager breathing down the back of my neck every day, and reoccurring dreams about a boy I'm not allowed to see again, I'm quite peachy, actually. How about you?"

"I'm not answering that. You've never told me about the reoccurring dreams. What are they like?" He was acting as if he cared for once. Usually, he didn't give a shit about his job.

I thought about it for a minute, bringing my legs up on the couch to sit cross legged. "It's like I'm living the same day over and over again."

Zayn's eyes widened, suddenly interested. "Can you control what happens?"

"Sometimes I can. Sometimes he controls me."

He furrowed his brows. "He?"

I finally looked up to meet Zayn's eyes.

"Louis."

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