'Cause I'm Tired of Living Alone

Louis has tasted hard liquor, whether in a club, pub, or the darkest corners of his house. And it burns, oh, how it burns.
You don't even feel it in the beginning. Then suddenly it's like a lump in your throat, a sour yet delicious taste on your tongue. You force it down and it burns everything in its path but you can't stop, so you take another gulp, and then another, and then another. Before you know it, your head is fuzzy, palms sweaty and the burning in the pit of your stomach won't go away, not even when you touch your slowly numbing lips and can still feel his imprint there.
That's how Harry's absence feels like.
That's how vodka feels like.