Night Changes // l.s.

▰ 02 ▰

[only cause it's christmas today🎅]

"'M so sad, so sad. What day is it?" asked Sophia, Liam's girl.

"Still fucking Monday."

It feels like so long since this morning. He wonders what Harry's doing, if he's okay, if he's on night patrol and up thinking about him, or is he's sound asleep, dead tired from the plane. It'll be getting on four thirty in the morning there, Louis' so used to the conversion now that he can still do it when he's downed about three hundred beers. Which is saying something, because he's not even sure he can walk in this state.

"One-hundred fifty-two more days," Perrie, Zayn's girl, hiccuped. Funny; she'd never let him see her like this. She had to be perfect for Zayn, always.

"Wassat?" Niall, just Niall, slurred. Niall was Louis' old flatmate from his freshmen/sophomore in university days; Louis now sat in his senior, Niall in his junior. He was Louis' only male friend since Harry was so jealous when Louis is talking to other men. Which, on another topic, wasn't fair because Harry isn't even gay - Pansexual - and can practically talk to everyone. But whatever. He's loved Louis for three years so far and that's all that matters.

"One-hundred fifty-two more days until Liam, 'nd Zayn 'nd Harry come home," she explained, twisting the engagement ring around on her finger.

"Mhm," Louis glanced at the Polaroid camera that sat on the coffee table and felt tears welt up in his eyes. Harryharryharry.

"One-hundred fifty-one more days now," said Sophia as she watched the clock -Harry's favourite clock that rested above the television- change to 0001.

"My baby," Louis whimpered, letting his tears glide down his cheeks. Perrie pulled him into an embrace.

"I know, Louis. I know."

▰

Louis was dragging the next morning.

He's been through this before, but, Jesus, the first week is just treacherous.

Louis shrugged a navy cardigan over his white button down, cuffed his skinny jeans, tied his Keds. It was 0840 and Louis realised that he has a job and a career he's trying to pursue and as much as he cried, wallowed, and moaned for Harry to return it wouldn't happen. He wouldn't be back for another one-hundred fifty-one more days.

Maybe.

Louis has to go in to work today and then later on he had a to head to the art hall at his UNI to work on his project. After that he'd probably watch Harry's favourite Disney movie, Bambi, and drink some mint Yorkshire (it's gross, but it's Harry's favourite). He'd put on Harry's yellow and black flannel because, wow, Harry looked so good in yellow...and pretty much everything.

He'll snuggle in the bed and go to sleep pretending the pillow was Harry.

▰

Louis pressed his glasses higher in his noes and read over the spreadsheets a little more, typing the information into an Excel database.

He loathed this part of my job.

He had the stereotypical gay man's job. Fashion. Not really, but he hopes to be someday. Right now he's just a secretary at Vouge, but one day, one day he's gonna have his own secretary to fill out spreadsheets and make him coffee and send him print outs.

"Mr Louis Tomlinson to my office, immediately."

Louis rushed out his office quickly at the sound of Angela's, his bosses, voice over the speakers of the eleven floors. Louis scurried up the stairs (because the lift takes far too long) and soon stood in front of her door, panting.