Poisonous

Chapter 2

“Ah, you look like shit… and you smell like it too,” came a muffled male voice from the other side of the door frame. He eyed Harry’s wrecked appearance carefully, mentally noting down how drunk he actually was. “So, are you going to let me in, Styles? Or am I going to have to keep standing here like a lost puppy?”

Harry slurred a quick, “hey” and forced a small chuckle at the boys’ comment. This would be something he would have normally laughed at. But now, it was just a stupid thing that meant nothing. Louis and Harry had been friends for what seemed like years. How the two boys met was quite a story to tell. Actually, before they officially met, they were always in the same place in multiple occasions. Except in two different crowds, two completely different friendship groups.

Officially, they met at in Nicole’s apartment’s toilet urinary. Louis peed on Harry, and they just seemed to hit it off right there. Strange encounter, strange way to start off a friendship. But it only went up from there. Their first words to each other were “oops” and “hi”. In this blossoming friendship, they had gotten wrecked with each other, and on this one occasion, they decided to go to a tattoo parlour where they got these words tattooed.  

It had seemed that Louis was the only one who would look after Harry this past month; for what reason was completely oblivious to Harry, he wouldn’t even want to spend time with himself at the moment. But nonetheless, Louis stayed. If it wasn’t for Louis, Harry would have been surviving on bourbon and other liquids. Not that he wasn’t. But Louis was there to feed Harry, make sure Harry showered and dressed. And now, it was one of those times.

After opening the door for Louis, Harry immediately returned back to the couch, again almost tripping over himself. But before Harry could actually sit down, Louis pulled him back up by his arm and pushed him. “Don’t be a lazy fuck, Harold. I’m not fighting you again. You’ve left your house a complete mess. The least you could do was go for a shower and clean yourself up. I’m fucking serious now.”

Louis was pretty. Fierce, and pretty. If Harry still hadn’t been in mourning, he would have totally seen that for himself.  Not saying he hadn’t noticed, because he sure had. Especially when he was drunk, which was basically all the time anyway. But whenever he thought about moving on, Nicole and his last sort of argument would come into his mind: Nicole telling him to move on. Nicole.

Harry groaned, however did as he was told and went for a shower. He went to the bathroom, turned the water on and began to undress himself. Harry had almost managed to do this all without a slight mishap. Almost. Just as he was about to take off his pants, he tumbled over and fell onto the toilet seat with a thud. Luckily, however, he kept the toilet seat down. Sort of like a memorabilia for Nicole, and how she’d always be pestering him to keep the seat down. Otherwise, that would have been a completely sad story.

Meanwhile, Louis had been cleaning up the empty bottles of alcohol, quickly filling up a bin he had been carrying around the small apartment room.  At the sound of the thud, Louis groaned. However, he had the obligation to see if Harry was alright. It seemed like Louis had a lot of obligations now; Harry had become completely dependent on him. So Louis put the bin down and rushed into the bathroom to find the completely disorderly Harry, beginning to fall asleep on the toilet.

“Harry fucking Styles.”

At the sound of his name, Harry stirred awake, raising an eyebrow. His lips curled up at a weird angle for a second. “I had a bit of an accident. My pants… I think I may have glued them on last night.”

“No fucking wonder. Your jeans look like they’re just painted on majority of the time.”

This caused Harry to laugh. Louis did have that effect on Harry. “Help me get them off?”