R O O M 1 9 7 // Harry Styles & Louis Tomlinson Edition

Twenty-Three: Part I

~Monday 30th January 2017~

11:27 pm

"I just don't understand. He seemed like the nicest guy." Harry complains, dazed and tired, as Louis opens the door of Harry's apartment, pulling Harry along with him. He throws the keys on the floor and leads Harry into the bathroom, sitting him down atop the laundry basket besides the sink.
"People are like that everywhere, Harry." Louis replies, turning the cold tap on and running a cloth underneath the stream of water. He squeezes the extra water out of the fabric, and moves towards Harry, pressing the cold cloth against his bruising cheek.
"So, do you think I won the fight?" Harry asks, a joyful smirk pulled across his lips. Louis joins in on his laughter, chuckling at the young man, before playfully ruffling the top of his hair and pushing his head away. Harry takes the cloth from Louis and winces when he removes the cold cloth from his cheek, peering into the mirror to check the swollen skin that sits on his jaw. "That's gonna be a nice bruise in the morning." He jokes, putting the damp cloth on the edge of the sink and taking his phone out of his pocket, checking his inbox. Still no reply from Gemma, but it reminds Harry of something.

"How comes Eleanor hasn't called you today?" Harry asks, still peering into the mirror as he inspects his new injury. When he doesn't get a response, he turns on his seat, facing towards Louis and waiting for him to reply. Louis is by the shower, straightening the bottles of shampoo and soap into a line, a smile curling it's way up into his lips. He turns too, leaning against the glass of the shower and putting his hands in his trouser pockets, his signature grin sat upon his face. Harry smiles too, a little wary as to why Louis is so happy. "What?" Harry asks, pleading for Louis to answer him.
"Eleanor and I are getting a divorce." Louis announces, his grin stretching so wide that it hurts the corners of his mouth, as he finally lets the words out. Harry's smile, however, drops, and he looks away from Louis for a moment, staring at the floor and shaking his head. This is not the reaction Louis had hoped for, and he watches cautiously as Harry stands, beginning to pace, his fingers on his temple.

"Since when?" Harry asks, his voice splitting the silence in half, as he finally looks up at Louis from across the small bathroom. His eyes are a wild liquid green, angry and happy and fearful and relieved.
"Three days ago." Louis admits, ashamed that it has taken so long to tell him this important news. Harry's eyes go wide as he answers, scoffing and turning his back on Louis, as he begins pacing again.
"Three days ago?!" Harry explodes, halting his movements and standing still for a beat, before he starts again, shaking his head furiously. This is definitely not the reaction Louis had wanted. "Three days, and you're only telling me now?!" Harry exclaims, looking at Louis and waiting for him to speak again.
"I didn't know when to tell you." Louis confesses, walking closer to Harry, closing the gap between them, reaching his hands forward to comfort Harry. But, Harry doesn't want his comfort, backing away from him and shaking his head once more.
"What else are you keeping from me?" Harry asks, his voice quieter this time, as if he doesn't want the answer to this certain question. He looks over at Louis from across the room, as Louis' facial expression changes. He refuses Harry's gaze, anxious to tell the next part, which just makes Harry even more unwilling to hear the next piece of news, pushing his fingers in circles around his temple, as a headache starts brewing inside his head. Maybe, it was Milo's punches. Or maybe it's this. This uncontrollable anxiety over this doomed relationship.

"It's not mine." Louis says, his voice barely louder than a whisper, but the impact of his words hit Harry in a way that stuns him, shocking him deep down to his core. "The baby...it's not mine." Louis adds, as if it needs confirming, but Harry has already worked that out in his head, staring straight into the distance as this strange feeling, this strange mixture of emotions bubbles up inside of him, screaming for release.
"And how long have you known that?" Harry pleads, as tears start to line the bottom of his eyes.
"Three days." Louis responds, letting his head fall, his eyes on the floor, unwilling to look into Harry's gaze and see the mess he has made. "We spoke on the phone about the divorce, and then she confessed that the baby is somebody else's. She's fallen in love with him." He adds, as if Harry cares about what goes on in Mrs Tomlinson's life. Harry scoffs again, in complete disbelief. He's happy - undeniably so - that the man he loves is no longer attached to anyone, no longer about to become a parent. But, he's angry too. Angry that Louis has purposefully withheld this information from him for three whole days. Harry has lost sleep over this, worrying and worrying over their future together, when Louis knew all along that everything was fine.

"It wasn't my intention to keep it from you." Louis explains, catching Harry's gaze and holding onto it, as Harry's tears fall slowly down his red cheeks. "I didn't mean for this to hurt. I thought you would be happy." His words fall short, as Harry shakes his head, stopping him from talking.
"No, you've kept this from me on purpose!" Harry yells, waving his hands in front of him frantically. This bathroom is too small for all this tension. "I am happy. Beyond happy. But, why does it feel like I'm the last person you've told?! Like I'm the only one you're keeping secrets from?!" He wipes away at his tears, with the back of his sleeve, refusing to be vulnerable in this situation any longer.
"So what?! It's not like I'm the only one keeping secrets around here!" Louis bursts, regretting his words as soon as they leave his mouth, blinking his own tears away. This should be a happy moment for the two of them. They should be planning things, excited for the future, with happy tears in their eyes. But, here they are instead. In a cramped bathroom, shouting at each other, angry and frustrated, close to tearing themselves apart piece-by-piece.

Harry's eyes lower, and his features become sombre, as he slides down the wall to the floor, sitting down upon the cold off-white tile, and letting his head fall into his hands.
"I didn't think you would understand." Harry groans, his voice muffled and low, as he sniffs, crying again. Louis moves towards him, sitting down against the shower across from Harry, his eyes stuck to the hunched over form.
"Listen, if you have a problem with alcohol, we can--" Louis starts, trying to be reassuring and comforting, but Harry cuts him off.
"I've been lying to you about something else." Harry confesses, his head held low in shame and the blood in Louis' veins instantly turn to ice as he starts panicking. Louis stays silent, waiting for Harry to speak again, unsure how to navigate this difficult conversation. "Gemma didn't move back to England." Harry adds, as he begins sobbing, unable to control the pain this secret holds, as it bursts out, forcing itself free.
"Then where is she?" Louis asks, his voice soft, as he moves closer, reaching his fingers forward to touch his leg, planting a comforting hand onto Harry's knee, moving his thumb in slow circles against the fabric there, as Harry continues weeping.

Harry sniffs, wiping his tears once more, trying to force the sobs that make their way up his throat to stop, as he finally speaks. He slowly lifts his eyes up to Louis', dark and tired, letting the words be free for the first time in a while, afraid to finally admit them, as if it's only true once Harry says it. He takes a deep breath, holding back the suffocating cries that sit in his mouth somewhere, before speaking, his voice sending a vibrating echo through the tiny space they are sat in.

"She's dead."

Chapter Image was found on Pinterest