Not Again? || l.s

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Bruises on both my knees for you 
Don't say thank you or please 
I do what I want when I'm wanting to 
My soul? So cynical  

~ 'bad guy' by billie eilish

ツ

Louis wasn't in the bathroom when Harry went to take his shower. Louis wasn't there when Harry got back to the room, but his side was spotlessly clean. And Harry was grateful, even if he spent the next twenty minutes cleaning his own side of the room and getting their laundry. He's not sure what he'd say if Louis had been there. Not sure if this changed things or not, because he still hated Louis, he did. 

Maybe he hated Louis even more.

Everything inside of him was in turmoil. He couldn't sort out his thoughts or emotions. On one hand, he's shocked it happened. On the other hand, he thought that maybe a tiny, little part of him seen it coming. Another part of him was pissed for even thinking that. And he felt angry with himself, angry with Louis, and he's regretting it already. 

He regretted it so much, because he couldn't get the way Louis had felt inside of him out of his mind —the way he'd gripped Harry's hips and tugged at his hair. While, at the same time, he didn't regret it at all.

Eventually, he left the room with his laptop and his books and his paper. He couldn't be in there anymore.

Only he couldn't focus on his work. He got to the library, set himself up, and then he stared at the word document, fingers hovering over the keys, eyes glazed. He tried, though. He spent about an hour copying the words painstakingly slow, but he kept misspelling things, skipping lines, missing words. There are so many words underlined in red that he gave up, shutting the laptop.

Liam and Zayn weren't in the common room when he got there. So, he hiked his bag higher on his shoulder and headed for their room.

Their room was only six down from Harry's, which was how he met them. The day after they'd moved in, the first time Harry had the room alone since Louis walked in the door, he was unpacking, and someone had knocked at the door. He went to answer it, and the next thing he knows there's this raven-haired guy sitting on his bed, telling Harry his life story, while his friend stood in the doorway, looking both pleased and apologetic.

Apparently, or so Liam told him later, Harry was the only one who allowed Zayn through the door, which was why he's now stuck with the two of them. Zayn pushed into Harry's life without invitation, and he brought Liam along like a carry-on bag. Not that Harry minded. Befriending the two of them was probably the only exciting thing he's done since he got here. Well, it was. He's pretty sure having sex with Louis was now on that list.

When Harry got to their room, he pushed the door open. They have a whiteboard on the door that Zayn obsessively used to let people know if they're in the room, out of the room, or in the room and want to be alone. Right now it read 'COME IN!' with a sloppy smiley face beside it.

He found the two of them stuffed on Liam's bed, a box of pizza between them. Zayn was sitting with his legs neatly crossed, taking up as little room as possible. Liam was spread out, limbs everywhere, lying on his stomach while he shoved a slice of pizza in his mouth, which was such a good representation of both of their personalities, really.

"Hungry?" Zayn asked, nudging the box towards the edge of the bed. "Help yourself. My mom sent me extra cash this week."

Harry nodded mutely and took a piece of pizza, picking off the slices of pepperoni before he took a bite. It's not hot anymore, but it's greasy and cheesy and delicious anyway. He chewed as he sunk onto Liam's bed, pulling his legs up.