In My Mind. || Larry Stylinson

"I dont need help, ill be okay." (Chapter 3.)

Louis woke up to birds chirping loudly outside the large window, yawning he sat up stretching, he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed his glasses. Putting them on.

Sighing, he removed the blanket from his body and got out of bed. Making the bed, after, he walked into the bathroom. Staring at himself in the mirror, his eyes had dark purple circles and he was losing weight.

He frowned, grabbing the toothbrush and toothpaste, he started gently brushing over his teeth.
Once he was done, he rinsed his mouth out with mouthwash and sighed.

He splashed his face with freezing cold water and dried it off with a towel that looked to be way too expensive for a towel. It had Harry's initials on it, H.S.

"Of course you would have towels like this.." Louis whispered to himself, smiling.

He again, sighed, and walked out of the bathroom, opening the bedroom door he realized Harry's bedroom door was still closed. Which meant Harry was still asleep, it was about eleven in the morning and Louis walked down the spiral staircase.

Yawning, he noticed a tall cabinet with shit tons of alcohol in it. He raised a brow and walked closer to it, he tilted his head and opened it.

Whiskey, rum, vodka, so much to choose from.. he could have a taste right? It'll be okay, yeah.

So he did, he grabbed the vodka and walked into the kitchen and searched for a shot glass and thankfully he found one.

He poured himself a shot, and threw it down his throat, it burned but it was good. It was fine right? Everything was fine.

He couldn't keep count of how many shots he had taken, he felt numb, and he missed this feeling.
He kept taking shots until the bottle was almost half gone and he felt like he was floating. He felt good, he felt like a million bucks.

He somehow ended up sitting on the floor drinking his last shot, leaning his head against the wall.
He heard someone coming down the stairs, shit, Harry?

"Louis?" Harry asked, coming around the corner, he saw Louis sitting on the floor with vodka in one hand and a shot glass in the other.

"Harold! How—" he hiccuped, "How are you Harry," he started giggling, "I'm greaat, so good."

Harry frowned and walked over to louis, kneeling down grabbing the vodka and the shot glass, "shit Louis.. how much have you had?"

Louis our up all ten fingers, "this many," he giggled, "no no.. more than this many, hey ! That's my vodka," Louis pouted, "party pooper."

"You've had quite enough Louis, fuck.. it's not even noon Louis, here," Harry stood up and put his hand down for Louis to grab, Louis reaches up and grabbed ahold of Harry's hand, falling down immediately after.
Louis started laughing uncontrollably, Harry quickly grabbed him and held him up, walking him over to the sofa and laying him down.

"You.. you stay here yeah? Rest, sober up," Harry sighed, making a mental note to get rid of all the alcohol in the house. That was that.

"But Harry nooo, I want you to stay with me, come lay down with me?" Louis pouted, and Harry of course felt bad so of course he did what Louis asked, he lates down next to him and Louis wrapped his arms around him. Resting his head upon Harry's chest.

Harry would be lying if he said he didn't care about Louis, as more than a friend. Louis had only been staying with him for a few months but it felt like forever you know?

Harry reached over and started playing with louis' feathery brown hair, Louis almost purred, "feels nice," Louis spoke up, he ended up falling asleep and so did Harry.