you put the O in disOrder ➢ (l.s)

O.22

(HARRY'S POV)

It sucks being seventeen.

Trapped by 365 days.

8 765.812 hours.

525 948.766 minutes.

31 556 926 seconds.

But it seems longer than all of that.

It seems like a billion years before I'll ever be eighteen.

And free.

What's strange is that I never even wanted to be alive that long four months ago.

But lots of things have changed since then and they continue to shift with every moment that passes.

Things have become less... Cheerful.

My mother refuses to accept me.

Why is being gay so fucking difficult? I mean, the word itself means 'happy' right?

So why the fuck aren't I happy?

Louis and I can't even breathe the same air in school, and that makes my lust for him reach all time highs.

I've been having accidents more often because of that.

Awesome.

Louis can't even help me anymore so the bullying has come back full throttle once again.

Plus, Louis will most likely fail his project if I'm not there to be interviewed.

But on Monday... It's like fate when we both sign out of our classes to go to the bathroom.

I walk out of Chemistry, keeping my head down before I look up and freeze.

He just came from History class, it looks like.

He pauses too, and we stare for a moment.

But it's not long before we're nearly fucking in the hallway though...

Whoops.

"Lou, Lou god, I miss you. I miss you so much-" I pant out between feverish kisses and he pulls me into the bathroom, fumbling a little and laughing giddily.

He kisses me hard against the counter before he speaks, grabbing my face in his hands and tearing up.

"I'm moving out," he states, eyes flicking around Harry's features with excitement.

"To Zayn's, my friend Zayn... Babe I'm eighteen. I can move out. I can do whatever the fuck I want Bambi."

I laugh, a little loud, and he joins in and we laugh until our abs ache and our foreheads press together.

"Fuck Louis, please. Please skip with me. Lets go to the beach. Please Louis."

Okay, so I'm begging...

But you'd be too if you were restrained from someone you absolutely cannot function without.

That's why I start freaking out, coming undone at the hinges.

In a literal sense, I start coming.

Stress, stress, stress.

What a beautiful thing, yeah?

Louis notices how I'm panting heavily, shaking, crying... The need is blowing up and he feels it just the same as I do.

He knows what need does to me and he helps me through it, rubbing my thighs as I sit on the counter, moaning deeply into his shoulder and feeling like I could come a couple more times.