Into the playroom (L.S)

The remeet

Harry-18
Louis- 40
Into the playroom O.S 3

It's been a year since I've seen Louis Tomlinson. I'm 18 now, still with mad feelings for him. He's now 40. I get a phone call, I answer it.
"This is Harry,"
"Harry, you sound so much older now, wow." The voice sounds familiar.
"Who's this?"
"It's me, Louis. Would you like to come over to my apartment tonight?" He asks, I bite my lip. His was the only who cared about me.
"Um, sure, what time, and where's your apartment?"
"Brooklyn Heights, apt 400A"
That's my apartment building, I'm 398 A.
"We live in the same building, I'm two doors down from you."
"Would you like to come now?"
"Yeah, let me put on my shoes."
We hang up, I put up on my shoes, and leave my apartment.

When I get to 400A, I knock. Louis opens up the door, looking pretty much the same, towel wrapped around his small waist, hair wet.
"Sorry I just got of the shower."
I look at him, he's beautiful.
"It's fine." He lets me in.
I sit down on his couch, he sits down next to me.
"Harry...I'm sorry, about the past."
"Fuck me, I found my birth dad, he calls me a fag. I want you." I say, he looks at me.
He sallows. "I've been trying to fill this hole in my heart with other men, nothing helps. I miss you. Honestly, I miss you." He says, I lean into him, he kisses my lips, I kiss him back.
He places his hands on my waist, we keep on kissing.
"I'm gonna fuck you so hard and fast, you'll be walking with a limp."
"Please daddy, hazza needs you, fuck, fuck, I think I'm about to come." I sequel
He takes off my pants and boxers, licking his lips, dipping down, and giving me a quick lick.
"Louis! I think I'm about to."
"Hold it, I know you can. You can come when I say so. Also, you can pull my hair, or claw my back give your hands something to do." I nod.
He puts me in my mouth and starts to suck, I feel my knees wanting to give out.
"LOUIS! I DON'T TH-INK I C-AN!" I stutter.
He stops, looks at me.
"You cum when I cum, do a hand job while I suck you. Got it?" He voice is deeper, I nod.
"It's just-"
"SHUT UP! DID I GIVE YOU FUCKING PERMISSION TO SPEAK?"
I shake my head, I'm shocked.
"If you come, before I do-"
I come and start to freak out, full on panic attack.
"fuck, hazza, it's okay." He get up from me, and wets a washcloth.
"Let me clean you up, then I'll help you back to your apartment."
"C-an I ju-st stay wi-th yo-u?"
"Hazza, my roommate gets off at 7, and it's 6:35, I wish you could."
"Can you stay with me? I miss you."
"I don't see why not, I'll leave a note. It'll be like the goodish days."
-
"Um, this is my apartment." I unlock the door, and open it up.
"Wow, it's very emo, a lot of band posters."
I nod, I've always liked my bands.
"Ignore the mess, I've been doing badly since you told me."
"Yeah, it wasn't the best, I missed you too, every night since you left I couldn't sleep."
He sits down on my couch.
"Do you work?"
"Yeah, I work at hot topic."
He cracks a smile.
"Do you still run the bdsm store?"
"Yes, and I feel like I've seen you there before."
I sit down next to him, and nod.
He raises an eyebrow.
"just like a cock ring and a buttplug nothing special." I shrug.
"What's that thing on your cabinet?" He asks looking at the piece of paper.
"Caroles Of everything in my kitchen, it's no big deal."
He looks concerned.
"Do you eat?"
I nod.
"I allow myself certain amounts, or certain things."
"What about binge eating?"
"I purge it."
He stands up.
"YOU DO WHAT?" He's mad. I feel small.
"please don't yell at me, you know I don't like yelled at."
He signs, "Hazza, this isn't good-"
"I KNOW ITS NOT GOOD I KNOW IT CAN KILL ME, BUT HONESTLY I DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT MY SELF! JUST GET THE FUCK OUT LOUIS!!"
-
-LOUIS POV-
Harry slams his apartment door in my face, he looks so mad. It's my fatherly instinct, I can't help it. I walk over to my apartment and realize I don't have any keys. I jiggle the doorknob and see that it's locked.
"Fuck!"
I look to see if I have my phone and I do, I quickly text Harry.
^Harry, it's Louis, did I leave my keys there?^
-sent-
I wait a few minutes, look at my phone and see no answer, I try calling him.
"Hi you've reached my voicemail which probably means, I'm at work, asleep, or dead. Will call back if I'm not the last one!"
I frown, I walk over to his apartment, and knock, wait a minute and no Harry. I check the time and see that it's 12:45 AM.
I jiggle the doorknob and see that it's unlocked. I open the door and call out for Harry. No answer. I walk in, and see that there's bottles of pills on the kitchen table.
"HARRY?"
No answer. I pull out my phone and press the 9. I walk into his room and see him passed out.
I call 911. I go closer to him, his arm is all cut up, a rainbow switchblade next to him.
"Nine one one, where is your emergency?"
"Hi it's at Brooklyn Heights apartment number 398 A."
"What's the emergency?"
"My friend tried to kill themselves. There breathing."
"How old are they?"
"Eighteen."
"Okay were sending an EMS over."
"Okay thank you."
I roll Harry to his side, move the blade and sit next to him. Something I've done a little too much.
I grab his hand, start to gently rub it.
"It's gonna be okay Haz. I'm sorry I most likely caused this. I love you."
-
The EMS came and picked him, I ride with him.
They put him a room. He has IVs and wires everywhere, a tube in his nose, one down there, so many.
"Why are you here?" He's up, he looks down, "what are all these, and what's this thing coming out of my nose."
I sigh.
"Did you know what your only 56 pounds Haz?"
"That's my lowest weight! I'm so-"
"That's not healthy. You were 90 when you were 15. You've lost 34 pounds in three years Harry! That's not good."
"If you're just gonna bitch about my weight and all that you can leave."
"Haz, I'm not trying to bitch. Look, I was at your point to, my dad killed my mother when I was twelve. I was bullied, for my weight. I'll keep this short. I was 45 pounds when I was 17, my organs were failing, I was on the brink of death."
"And what? You decided to eat a cake and not purge it? Big Woppy do."
"No, I tried killing myself 8 times. Then I met your mom, and you. Harry, you gave me the hope to get better. I want to be your dad, your lover whatever. I want you in my life again and if you don't, I understand." I start walking out, then I hear a little, "louis"
I turn around and Harry's crying.
"I want you in my life, in my home, in my bed, I want you, I wanna get better, but I don't know how."
I go over and hold him, thinking he just needs love to claim him down.
-
-
I go back to visit him, a few days later, being busy with work I couldn't see him.
"Hi I'm here to see Harry Styles."
"He, passed on Monday. His organs failed. We're sorry, we didn't know he had next of kin."
My heart breaks. No, no, no, no.
"Do you know any burial info, anything?"
"No, I know he's at All Days Funeral home."
"Thank you."
The nurse nods. I walk out the hospital and drive back to the apartment building.
"Hey X," I walk in seeing my roommate.
"Hey, you got a letter."
"Oh, let me see."
Probably just a bill till I look at the return address. Harry Styles.
I go into my room and read it.

-Dearest Louis,
If you're reading this that means I'm gone. Please don't blame your self, it's not your fault. I wanna thank you for being the best father figure I ever had. They found a massive tumor in my brain that spread too much to fix. I love you. Please don't forget that, Daddy. I wish I could write longer but I'm too tired to finish. I love you forever and always.
-Harry Styles-

I crawl in ball, on my bed.
After a few hours of thinking and crying, I walk into my bathroom, and run a bath. I look into the medicine cabinet and grab all the pills I can. I walk out into the living room and see my roommate is gone, I open the liquor cabinet and grab two bottles.
I strip, and start taking hand fulls of pills with the liquor. When I finish the pills and both bottles, I lay in the bathtub relaxing and falling asleep.

THE END OF PART 2.