You drive me round the bend - l.s

Chapter 11

Twenty minutes. That's how long Louis lasted before his feet carried him back to the hotel, the aimless walking around doing fuck all to calm him down.

Louis wanted to become someone better, more deserving, someone Harry would never have believed could cheat. He didn't want to be Harry's friend. Not when all he could think about was kissing Harry for so long their mouths would feel raw with it.

That's not what friends did.

Louis walked into the lift and pressed the button, watched the floors climb up, barely aware of the people standing in the lift with him. They all stepped off one by one until he was the only one left.

No matter what he'd expected once he got off on his and Harry's floor, it wasn't this.

"Haz, you idiot," Louis whispered, rushing over to the door and kneeling beside Harry's dozing frame. Harry must have followed Louis out without taking his key card and Louis had to wonder how Harry had managed to survive all these years unscathed. Maybe Harry was just fine when he was on his own. Maybe Louis was the problem here.

"Harry," he said, reaching out and pausing before he could touch. "Harry, come on."

When he wouldn't even stir, Louis cupped Harry's shoulder and squeezed. "Wake up."

His traitorous hand slid lower until his palm met Harry's bare skin, thumb rubbing back and forth as though it had a mind of its own.

Harry slowly stirred awake, blinking up at him.

"I forgot my card," he rasped, the baritone of his sleepy voice catching on Louis' heartstrings.

"I'm surprised someone hasn't called security yet," Louis said, knowing he sounded a bit harsh, but... the idea of Harry being out here so vulnerable didn't sit well with Louis at all. It didn't matter that was a decent hotel or that it most likely had security cameras everywhere. He just... he didn't like that.

"What time 's it?"

"I haven't been out that long. Twenty minutes, tops."

Harry rubbed the heels of his hand over his eyes and Louis looked away, had to breathe through the way it made him feel. "Up you go."

He helped Harry up and ushered him inside, not missing the way Harry dug his knuckles into his lower back.

Louis wanted to push Harry onto the bed, straddle his hips and massage all the painful knots out until Harry felt better and Louis stopped feeling shitty for intentionally causing Harry pain in the first place.

"I'm gonna clean up," Louis said, not waiting for Harry's response. He didn't know why he'd told Harry in the first place. Why he was feeling as though he was standing on the precipice, all his muscles pulled taut like a bowstring, waiting and ready to snap.

Harry's words wouldn't stop running around his head over and over again.

'Because I feel something for you.'

So did Louis, and wasn't that a bloody joke? Maybe he needed to get it out of his system. For a brief moment Louis thought about it – but he knew that it probably wouldn't work. Deep down, he didn't want Harry out of his system.

He walked out of the bathroom, dressed in boxers and a soft, loose T-shirt, the taste of nicotine washed out of his mouth.

"What are you doing?" Louis asked once he walked back into the main room, faltering.

Harry whirled away from where he was already half-kneeling on the sofa. "What?"

"You're not sleeping there."