Untitled (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter two

"I was away. And I'm just an arrogant son of a bitch who can't admit when he's sorry."

Louis paused the song as he felt tears start to fall down his face again. Four years later and he can still Harry's pain-filled face as he walked out the door, leaving Louis in the dressing room to cry until Niall had found him, empty, staring at the wall.

"Louis?" Niall called out worriedly. He banged on the dressing room door and swung it open, running inside. "Louis! Louis, what happened? Harry just ran past everyone crying and he got in a car and oh my God," he stopped, looking at Louis' tearstained face and puffy eyes, "Louis, what happened?"

Louis looked up and let out a shuddering breath, "He left me. He said he was done and he left me and it's all my fucking fault. I fucked it up and I yelled at him and he left me and now he wants nothing to do with me," he whispered, "I want my Hazza back."

He started crying again as Niall pulled him into a tight embrace and told him that Liam had gotten in another car to follow Harry and that they would sort all of this out in the morning.

Of course Louis had seen Harry and talked to him since then, but they had both decided that they should pretend that they had only ever been. It hurt Louis when they decided that, and it still hurts him just as much now.

Louis went to lie back down on his bed and unpaused Harry's album. Harry had just released it the day before, and Louis wanted to hear it and support Harry's music as soon he could. The only problem, every song was making Louis tear up. He thought that Harry was completely over him and what he said, but now he felt like a dick again because of what he had done.

Louis knew that he should keep pretending he didn't love him, but he also knew that he would hate himself forever if he didn't pull his shit together and apologize. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts, hoping Harry hadn't changed his number in the months it had been since they'd last texted.

Louis: I love your new album and I hate that I can't say that I love you just as much as your music. I'm so fucking sorry and I miss you and I completely understand if you ignore this, but that doesn't stop me from hoping that you won't.

Louis sent the text before he could overthink and change his mind. Then he stood, ran to his kitchen and pulled out a half-empty bottle of vodka. He decided that if he was going to make more dumb decisions that night, he might as well get drunk.

It wasn't long before Louis was completely and utterly hammered. He stumbled to his couch and sunk into the cushions before he took a final swig, sent a few more desperate texts to Harry, and cried until he was too exhausted to stay awake.