the light's on but nobody's home || l.s

v

louis

louis couldn't utter a single word as he stands there like a fucking imbecile. he scoffs, recalling what the hell just happened. did he really just shove past him? for no reason at all? well, maybe he was being intrusive but there was no harm done.

what happened to the sweet, charming harry styles he met last night?

he taps his foot for a bit, thinking of what to do next. should he go back and chase after him? though the effort would be wasteful and there's no way harry would be all loving and smiling at him. what the hell? he smacks his forehead, literally. what went wrong?

so he decides to go to the library, texting niall to bring his stuff over for him (they had exchanged numbers amidst niall's listless natter, louis had refused the offer but was convinced by the irish nonetheless) while he sits down on the far corner of the dusty library, the untouched books quietly sitting in the shelves, their leather spines just barely holding the pages together, and sobs. well, not actually sobbing, there's no tears, (maybe no physical tears) but dry sobbing. let's go with that.

"hey you alright, mate?" niall asks, trepidation audible in his voice.

"everything is great, niall. everything is fucking great," he sighs, knowing how bad he sounds like a drama queen at the moment.

"is this about harry?"

"of course it is! who else would it be about. it's always about that stupid prick. he's mean, niall! who would've thought, while you were all distracted by him prancing around town all teeth and smiles, that he's an actual fucking snob! i hate the rich," louis vents, aware of how loud he's being right now.

"woah, slow down there mate... are you sure we're talking about the same harry here?" niall pries, not fully convinced.

louis rolls his eyes and bangs his head on the wooden table. it hurts, but not as much as being shoved past by mr. harry styles. "i'm going back to my dorm. don't text me, i don't wanna go out and i don't wanna communicate with a single living thing!" and with that, he collects all his things and heads out of the library, ignoring the irate looks being given his way.

•••

upon arriving at his dorm, he kicks his shoes off and throws all his items, disregarding if anything even breaks. all he needs now is to lie down and cry while eating ice cream, and maybe binge watch a few episodes of 'say yes to the dress'.

he lies down peacefully, hoping to get swallowed by the world when suddenly his phone rings. he ignores it on the first two rings, but picks it up on the third ring out of frustration and annoyance.

"what?" he vexes, knowing that it's niall who's calling.

"mate! you need to come to this sick party later tonight. quit whining already, man up, you're better than this. i'll pick you up at 9, don't be late, or i'll cut your balls off and feed them to the gremlins. ya hear?"

oh god.

"niall i'm really not in the mood–"

"sorry i gotta go golfing now, bye!" and with that the irish hangs up. the call was too brief that louis contemplates his mental state. had he been imagining all that?

louis hurls his phone on his couch and aggressively rubs his temples. he's obviously not going to the stupid party, he barely knows anyone except zayn. wait.

zayn. he forgot to tell him all about harry.

louis quickly picks his phone up and dials zayn's number, mumbling a few 'pick up pick up pick up's. there was brief silence where all he could hear was his own heavy breathing.

"hey lou, what's up?" he calms down upon hearing his raven haired best friend.

"zayn! thank god you picked up. can come over to my room now? i have so many things to tell you–"

"on my way." he hangs up.

okay first of all, how dare he cut him off. but he's not one to complain, his best friend is always ready to help out. so louis waits in his room, mindlessly walking in circles until he hears the door open. (yes, he's given his spare keys to zayn because he trusts him like that)

"okay. spill," zayn says as he makes his way to the couch and lights up a cigarette, not even looking louis' way because he doesn't have to.

"do you know harry styles?" louis inquires.

there's a pregnant pause.

"yeah, that guy's a total douchebag," zayn replies, releasing smoke from his mouth. louis beams at the response. finally! someone who doesn't worship harry. "why are you asking about him?"

"well, he um... we kind of, met? i guess, last night. i was at the park, you know, getting some fresh air, clearing my mind, when all of a sudden he comes up out of nowhere and introduces himself and makes small talk. small talk! you know how i hate that. but whatever, i didn't know him at that time and was completely gone for him, fuck. why does he have to look so perfect? but eventually he left for some dumb party i guess, and my dumbass thought that he liked me or something. but then earlier today i went to the music room to look for him and..."

louis pauses to breathe and contemplates whether he should speak about the beautifully tragic performance of harry's, or just skip it. he chose the latter.

"...and he was playing the piano and i wanted to tell him how amazing he was but he just stared at me like i was a piece of shit and shoved past me! like, full on pushed me with his shoulder! who the fuck does that?!" louis is breathing heavily at this point, his blood boiling just thinking of the earlier event.

"i told you he's an asshole. he doesn't give a flying fuck about what goes on. he only thinks of himself and uses people for his own pleasure. his parents are rich so that's where he got that snobby attitude from," zayn explains, passing a cigar to louis, which he readily accepts.

louis registers whatever information that was being thrown at him. huh, so harry is a prick, and he was charming louis just so he could get a good fuck. bloody hell.

"i suggest you avoid him, louis, he's not good," zayn warns, tapping his cigarette on the ashtray, anger still evident on his olive-toned face.

"yeah. he's a prick."

louis stares at nothing for a minute and decides that he wants to go to the party that niall mentioned.

"let's go out tonight. there's a party that my friend invited me to. i'm going to quit whining and woman up! we're gonna have the best night of our lives, i tell you zayn. be ready by 9!" louis claps his hands and shoos zayn out of his room. he needs some time alone to process all this.

zayn sing-songs an 'okay' as he walks out the door and then the room becomes peaceful once again.

feeling momentarily abated, he closes his eyes and can't help but think of one person.

harry fucking styles.