Undercover (Larry Stylinson)

3. bitter, not sweet

"Hello?" Liam said, knocking loudly on Harry's door.

When Harry didn't answer, Louis continued to knock. "Open up!" he shouted.

"Shhh," Liam said, grabbing Louis by the collar. "Maybe he's not home."

"His car is in the driveway," Louis said, putting his hands on his hips.

A few seconds later, the door slowly opened and Harry opened the door, his eyes heavy-lidded with sleep.

"Hi, can I help you?" he asked groggily. His voice sounded different than it had the other day.... was that a European accent?

"Sorry, did we wake you?" Liam said quickly before Louis ran his mouth.

"Yeah, um, I work the night shift," Harry explained. "Sleep most the day. Is something wrong?"

Liam looked at Louis, who was holding the bottle of wine firmly in one hand. But Louis was too distracted to respond. Instead, he just stared at Harry, mesmerized. As if it were even possible, he was even more beautiful without his sunglasses. He had this big green eyes paired with long, fluttering eyelashes and eyebrows to die for.

"Are you gay?" Louis blurted out.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry. What's exactly going on right now?"

Liam shot Louis a patronizing look and yanked the wine away from him, handing it to Harry. "Sorry," he said. "You'll have to excuse Louis. He gets a little excited sometimes. We just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. Starting with this wine."

"Oh, well thanks, that's nice of you," Harry said as he took the bottle. "I'm sorry I don't have anything in return."

"It's okay. Our treat," Louis chirped, finally recovering from his faux pas. "Sorry about the gay thing. I just... your eyebrows are so perfect... and truly no one appreciates eyebrows around here."

"He's the only gay guy in town," Liam reiterated. "Or at least the only one out of the closet. It's a really homogeneous town."

"I can imagine," Harry replied coolly. "It's very backwards here."

"It is," Louis agreed. "Hey, you should let us give you a tour of the town. We'll show you the good spots to eat. All two of them."

"Oh thank you, but I'm not dressed," Harry said, pointing down to his flannel pajamas. "I have work in a bit too, so tonight is not the best. Thank you so much for stopping by though. And for the wine."

"No problem," Liam replied. "Well, goodnight."

"Night," Harry replied. He shut the door quietly, returning back to his bed. Those were the first people he had spoken with all day.

******

"Well that went horribly!" Louis complained "He didn't even offer for us to come inside and drink the wine. That was the whole point. How rude! What a waste of 12$."

"Well he had work," Liam said with a shrug.

"I guess," Louis replied. "I still don't trust him, though."

"You don't have to," Liam said, shaking his head. "Why do you even care?"

"Because... he's so hot... look at him, like, ugh," Louis said, biting his lip. "I just need him in my life."

"Okay," Liam said, smiling cheekily. "Why don't you just ask him to hang out directly then?"

"I like the way you think, Payno," Louis said. He hopped up to go back outside, but Liam caught him by the shoulder.

"Not tonight," he cried.

"Fine, tomorrow," Louis grumbled. He headed up to his room, but not without messing up Liam's action figure collection for a bit. How long would it take for him to notice that the 1998 Batman was off by 32 degrees?

******

"Hey," Louis yelled, jogging out onto Harry's driveway. It was 8am and he was just getting home from work.

Harry got of the car, bewildered. "Hey...?"

"Wanna go to the bar tonight?" Louis asked cheerily. "It's Friday after all. I'm going with Liam and some other friends. You could meet some people in town."

"Um, I don't know about that," Harry said. He removed his security jacket, revealing a tight white T-shirt underneath. "Not really looking to make friends. I won't be here for long."

"Oh," Louis replied, raising an eyebrow. "How come?"

Harry shrugged. "It's been a long shift. Too tired to explain. Thanks for the offer, though. My sleep schedule has been awful anyways, I'm looking forward to staying in."

Louis nodded. "Oh, okay. Well, let me know if you change your mind."

"Will do," Harry replied, heading up the steps of his house. "Later."

********

Harry wasn't lying when he said his sleep schedule was messed up. As soon as he got inside the door, all he wanted to do was lie down and rest. His body ached from having to sit in his car for hours on end each night and his head throbbed from exhaustion.

But of course, he wasn't able to fall asleep. He never was these days. At least not without a little help.

Sighing, Harry stood up and grabbed the wine bottle his neighbors had given him last night. He didn't know what those lads were up to, but it was something strange and he didn't trust them one bit - especially the short one.

Asking him if he was gay... as if he wanted to stand out anymore than he already did? This small town was clearly no place for secrets, and here he was keeping millions of them. That nosy man was nothing but trouble, and he could smell it even from next door.

"Fucking Merlot," Harry mumbled as he opened the bottle. "Makes sense. They don't have anything good in these shitty little stores."

Without hesitating, Harry jumped into bed and began to drank right out of the bottle. He set the show "Cuckoo" to play and watched it as he drank.

When he finished the bottle, he wasn't surprised. In fact, he barely felt it. Needed more.

Harry paused the show and headed to his pantry to grab a half finished bottle of Whiskey he picked up the other day.

Taking a swig, he sat back down on the couch and allowed relaxation to wash over him as the alcohol filled his bloodstream and made his world fuzzier.

He was several shots and eight episodes in when he started crying. He'd been having at least two flashbacks per day, even the pills weren't helping anymore. And alcohol just made him feel worse in the morning.

Whimpering, he picked up his phone, looking for someone to call. Niall's name popped up in his contacts and he pressed his face to the pillow, screaming into it.

"I am the fucking worst," he sobbed. "The fucking worst."

When he finally recomposed himself, Harry sat up rubbing his eyes. He took his phone, clicking on Niall's contact information. He had already called dozens of times with no answer. But it was worth a shot. He couldn't lose total hope could he?

Harry expected the dial tone to ring a few times before it went to that all too familiar voicemail "Hey, it's Niall. Leave a message." It was the only way he was able to hear his voice these days. But this time, he didn't even hear that.

"This number is no longer reachable," a pre-recorded voice said. The call shut off before he could even hit the end call button.

As Harry sat up, he looked around at his tear stained pillow and the two nearly empty bottles. He shouldn't be like this. Niall wouldn't want him to be like this. But he couldn't move on. Not yet, not when there was just a fraction of hope that he might still be out there somewhere.

Picking up the bottles, Harry inhaled sharply and thought about what he had to do. He couldn't stay here in Buttfuck nowhere and sit around crying over himself every day. If he wanted to stop feeling so shitty, he had to go out and make a change. Make a real impact.

But how the fuck was he supposed to do that?