True Lies (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 1

ONE YEAR LATER

HARRY:

     I woke up to the sound of rain hitting the window next to my bed. I groaned and rolled over. It was two in the morning. I ran a hand over my face and tried to fall back asleep, to no avail. It was like this most nights. I would wake up after another nightmare. I had them frequently since mine and Louis' conversation a year before. To say I was worried was an understatement. I had moved out of our apartment just a month after he confided in me, his reason for asking me to leave was that he needed space. I agreed, and moved into an apartment with Niall, seeing as though i didn’t want to live alone. Since then, he had sunken into a deep depression. He hardly comes out of his apartment anymore, only when I make him come out with me. Our friendship has gone back to what it was, you could say. Louis wasn’t the same due to the depression, but he wasn’t nervous around me anymore and most of the tension between us was alleviated. I was planning on meeting him the next day to take him clothes shopping, seeing as though he was wearing the same two shirts and three pairs of pants every day. I sighed and hugged my pillow close to my chest as, missing Louis, the old Louis. I mean Niall is one of my best friends, but I miss Louis more than anything. The day he came out to me was the day I lost him and it was all my fault. I felt a single tear fall down my cheek before falling into an uneasy sleep.

     "Louis?" I shouted, banging on the door with my fist, waiting impatiently for him to open the door. My heart began to pound and images of Louis, bloodied and pale, lying dead on the floor in the apartment flashed through my mind. I tried the knob again, with no success and beat the wood even harder. I finally heard the locks turn and Louis glared at me from the doorway.

"What?" he snapped.

"I told you I was coming today." I defended myself.

"I just got to sleep." he growled. This Louis wasn’t uncommon, the cranky, moody Louis that bit your head off for every little thing.

"Sorry." I muttered, feeling a weight of guilt in my chest. Looking at him, it was obvious that he needed the sleep. He had dark circles under his sunken in and hollow eyes, he was thin and frail, pale and almost malnourished looking. He wore a long sleeved black sweater and dark jeans despite it being a rather warm September morning. He had changed a lot over the past twelve months and I couldn’t help but think it was my fault. I needed to think of a way to fix it.

"You want me to come back later then?" I asked, starting to back away from the door.

"No, I'm already up. It's not like I'll get back to sleep anyway." he said, opening the door and allowing me to step inside.

     I sat on the couch while he went to get dressed. The apartment was completely unrecognizable since I had moved out. Papers and clothes and other pieces of clutter lay scattered around the living room and the TV was on, playing nothing but static. I could see a few empty beer bottles lying around on the floor and proceeded to the kitchen. I opened the cabinets and noticed a layer of dust coated the few dishes he had. It wasn’t a secret to the boys and i that he wasn’t eating, but we didn’t know it was this bad. I looked in the fridge, and rotting vegetables and fruits layed on the shelves I looked to the back and saw a bag of oranges that had turned white and green over time and I stumbled back at the smell. Louis didn’t eat oranges. Only I did they had decayed over a year. I felt tears prickle in my eyes at the thought of Louis not eating for a year. I opened other cabinets and found little food; the items that remained were old and stale, having been long expired.

"What are you doing?" I heard a familiar voice ask from behind me and I jumped, closing the cabinet quickly.

"I was just looking around Lou." I said.

"Well, you don't live here anymore." he said.

"That wasn’t my choice." I snapped back.

"Why were you going through my cabinets?" he asked.

"Because we're all worried about you Lou, if you took better care of yourself we wouldn’t have to do this!" I shouted.

"Get out." he whispered in a low raspy voice I had never heard before.

"What? No. We're going out to get you some clothes and then you're going to eat something."

"Get out!" he screamed, pushing me to the door.

     He threw me out into the hallway and before I was even able to get to my feet, I slammed the door in my face, locking it.

"Louis!" I screamed, banging on the door again. "Please open the door!" I yelled and heard nothing in response. I sat on the floor with my back against the door, deciding not to leave until I knew he was okay. I knew he wasn’t though. He hadn’t been okay for a year now and it was my fault.

     After a half hour of no answer I took out my phone called the only person I could think of that could solve this problem. I dialed the number with shaking fingers and waited impatiently as it rang. 'Please, please answer' I silently pleaded.

"Hello?" I heard a deep voice answer.

"Liam?" I asked shakily into the phone.

"Harry?" he asked. "What's going on? Are you crying?"

"Liam, he locked himself in the apartment. I'm scared!" I cried.

"Okay, hold tight, I'm on my way." he said and the line went dead.