fighting love » l.s.

twenty one - drunk

"I don't believe you," Harry growled, sending shivers down Louis's spine. He stared into Harry's green eyes for a moment, noting how they had darkened with Harry's mood. Harry's eyes flicked down to Louis's lips one more time, wanting nothing more than to give into what he was feeling. But he knew he couldn't.

So without another moment of hesitation, Harry turned and walked quickly out of the room, leaving Louis alone in the bedroom with the sound of his own breathing pounding in his ears.

Harry had to get out of there. He didn't want to go home, but he knew he had to get away from Louis. Even though with every step he took away from that room, his heart cracked a bit more.

He knew that Louis had feelings for him. Louis must have feelings for him -- it was the only way to explain everything that had happened between them. Harry wanted nothing more than to just be with Louis, but he couldn't take this anymore. He wanted to be in Louis's arms all the time, not just when Louis wanted him.

He refused to be Louis's "sometimes" -- not when Louis was Harry's "always."

Not paying attention to where he was going, Harry slammed into someone. Hard. Normally he would be apologizing profusely, but he started to push past before he heard the familiar voice. He couldn't handle talking to a stranger right now, and he definitely couldn't take the risk that it might be someone he didn't want to talk to.

To his surprise, someone grabbed his arm, pulling him back. "Whoa, Harry, what's wrong?" Liam's familiar voice asked, grasping Harry's shoulder and turning the boy to face him. He studied Harry's face, trying to figure out what had happened that had Harry in such a rush.

Instead of looking at Liam's face, Harry's eyes immediately snapped to the drink in the boy's hand. He practically never drank, but right now he needed something to distract him.

"Liam," Harry said seriously, locking his gaze with Liam's. "I need you to get me drunk."

"What? You don't even like --"

"Liam. Please," Harry said firmly, trying to keep the pleading tone from his voice. His eyes were starting to get watery, but he quickly blinked the tears back.

"Harry, what happened? What's wrong?" Liam asked, more concerned than before after Harry's request. His grip on Harry's arm softened as he realized the state that the younger boy was in. Harry was the most controlled person he knew, so he knew that it must be something really bad for Harry to want to do something like this.

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry begged, grabbing Liam's arm and tugging him toward the table of drinks. "Please, Li. I want to forget. I need to forget."

So despite everything in him telling him that this was the worst idea, Liam finally agreed, grabbing Harry a beer. He wanted nothing more than to sit Harry down and force him to talk, but it had taken this long for Harry to trust him and Niall. He couldn't break that trust now. He could do this one thing for Harry. Besides, what could happen? Liam promised himself that he would watch the boy the entire time.

Harry downed more than half of the drink in seconds, scrunching his nose at the bitter taste. "This is fucking disgusting," he told Liam, taking another large gulp.

"I know," Liam laughed, pulling Harry along behind him. "Let's go find Niall, yeah? He'll be so excited to have someone to get wasted with."

And Harry let Liam drag him through the crowd, already starting to feel the tingling feeling of the alcohol in his stomach. A smile twitched at the corner of his lips as he realized why the feeling was so familiar: he almost felt like he was with Louis. He took another sip of the drink. He almost felt the same warm tingles on his skin and fluttering butterflies in his stomach.

Almost.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Louis was trying to figure out everything he had done wrong. After standing for a while against the wall trying to catch his breath, he slowly crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. His brain was moving in slow motion, gears turning as he tried to process everything that had happened between him and Harry since the moment they met.

It seemed that Harry's outburst had finally snapped something inside of him, and he was finally starting to see clearly. Or maybe he had been able to see it the whole time, he just tried so hard not to. He wanted to pretend that nothing had changed. He wanted to pretend that he was still Louis, who had boy friends and girlfriends. Not boyfriends.

But from the moment he saw Harry, he'd started thinking about boyfriends. Or maybe just one boyfriend in particular.

All this time, he'd tried denying it. But he couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't keep holding Eleanor's hand and pretending it was Harry. He couldn't keep giving into his girlfriend's demands for him not to see the curly haired boy -- he hadn't noticed as it happened, but every second away from Harry had ripped away a tiny piece of his heart.

He loved Harry. And he was a complete fucking idiot.

He should have known when he just couldn't shake his feelings. He should have known when he kissed Harry for the very first time and never wanted to stop. He should have known the first time he looked into Harry's beautiful green eyes.

He should have known right then that he was home.