Undone, Undress (Larry Stylinson)

twenty-four

Before he broke up with his boyfriend, and before the pictures of him spread throughout campus, Louis used to go out with his friends almost every night and have fun.

It was usually a good time. He would party, get wasted, and act like a someone who had nothing to lose. He would mess around with guys during the in between time when he wasn't dating someone, and it was great because there was never any real commitment. Even when he was in a relationship, it never lasted too long and almost always centered around sex.

The point is that Louis used to go out all the time, enjoying the freedom and liveliness of being young and unattached. And then the last relationship happened and really put a damper on things. Louis no longer felt like going out and he lost most of his friends anyways so it didn't even matter. The only people who missed him were Liam and Niall.

Going out with them now, after so much has changed, feels starkly different. Especially with Harry there.

To start, Louis doesn't feel like getting wasted. He hardly wants to drink at all, really. He drinks beer to placate the others but really doesn't crave that warmth flowing through his veins anymore. It all seems so pointless, happiness contrived from alcohol. Couldn't he have something real, for once in his life?

Besides, the warmth of alcohol isn't enough anymore. There's this cold chill beneath his skin that has been there for months and it just won't go away, no matter what he does. The iciness is intangible, unable to be reached by physical means. He feels it in his soul, and nowadays not even the distraction of inebriation palliates the ache.

Harry seems to be following an opposite doctrine. His tenet is more about dismissing reality and failing to remember whatever it is that grieves him. He's on his fourth drink and they haven't even been here very long. Louis watches him warily from across the table but doesn't comment on his excessive drinking. None of the others seem concerned.

Louis thinks back to the time Harry was crying in his room and drank an entire bottle of cherry wine by himself. He wonders if it's a coping mechanism or even an actual addiction. Harry doesn't drink regularly, as far as Louis can tell, but he's still worried because there's so much he doesn't know.

Halfway through the night Harry says he isn't feeling well and no one really pays him any mind except Louis. Isn't that funny? Maybe he's abnormally attuned to Harry's feelings and wellbeing because they've been roommates for weeks now, or maybe he's just perceptive and cares about others. Whatever it is, Louis slips out of the booth after Harry, feeling too worried and too sober for a Friday night.

He gets to the bathroom just in time to see Harry stumble into a stall and throw up into the toilet. The entire bathroom smells like puke, cheap cleaning supplies, and regret anyways and it makes Louis uncomfortably queasy. He waits until Harry is finished puking to call out his name.

"Harry, babe," Louis sighs. Why is he always the one picking up the pieces? "We should probably get you home."

Harry responds by dry-heaving into the toilet. Louis comes up behind him and rubs his back comfortingly, knowing from experience how much it sucks to be sick, especially when you know it's your own fault. There's no need to be cross with him; Harry is having a hard enough time as it is.

Once he's pretty sure Harry won't get sick again, he helps him up off his knees and props him up against the wall. Harry moans in distress, swaying dangerously and dropping his head to Louis' shoulder.

"It's alright, H. You're okay. I've got you."

With impressive strength and a lot of resolve, Louis manages to get Harry all the way out of the bar and on the sidewalk outside, leaning against him for support. They aren't very far from their apartment so he decides to leg it, forgoing a taxi since it wouldn't be worth it. Harry is basically deadweight at this point but he thinks they can make it if he tries hard enough.