Do you really think i still hate you?

Chapter 3.

Before we started working, I showed him what he was going to do. We didn't say much to each other the whole time, just tried to work together, even though it wasn't the easiest thing to do.

We were working in 2 hours before we got done. I walked out of the room when I hesitantly heard Harry say something. "Where are you going?" Harry asked.

"Um, we're done here, so I guess my room. Why do you care anyway?" I asked curiously.

"I don't." Harry spoke back, then after some seconds opening his mouth to talk again. "Have you ever drunk alcohol before?" He asked and looked at me questionly.

"No?" I answered.

"Want to?" He asked, and I didn't even know why he would drink with me out of all people. Yeah, I was the only one there, at least the only one around his age, but didn't he hate me anyway?

"No, I don't want to and now if you don't mind, I'm going to my room, or wait I don't care if you mind or not, I'm going to my room anyway. Bye asshole." I said before leaving out of the room and all the way up to my room.

I laid down on my bed, taking my phone out of the pockets on my jeans and scrolled through social media. I clicked on Instagram to see if any of my old friends had posted pictures or something, but none of them had, just some celebrities I followed. Then I clicked on Twitter, and there were some tweets, but just of people writing about their boring life, so I ended up watching some series on Netflix.

About an hour later of watching series, I heard Harry braking a glass downstairs, so I went downstairs to see if everything was okay. Not that I cared, but because I was curious. When I came downstairs I could see Harry waggle around. He couldn't walk straight, and not did he just break a glass, he was drunk too, so I had to help him, again not because I cared, but because I had to. If I didn't, his parents could had blamed me for him being drunk, so I had no choice.

After I helped Harry clean up the broken glass, I heard a car outside. It was our parents. They were coming back home.

"Shit, Harry what have you done?! I don't want to fucking help you, but I have no choice! Oh you stupid- I hate you for fucks sake!" I cursed before helping Harry get to his bedroom. He waggled and almost couldn't stand on his feet. He also giggled and mumbled things, but I couldn't hear what he said. He leaned on me on the way to his room so he didn't fall.

"Louis?" Harry asked.

"What do you want now?" I asked back.

"Why do you hate me?" He asked.

"Because- uhm, you are you. That's why. Didn't you also hate me back?"

"No I told you that one time that I didn't hate you, remember?"

"Yeah, you said you didn't like me as a person either, and I thought you were kidding anyway."

"I wasn't, so why do you hate me so much?" He kept asking.

"You're an idiot Harry, and you're selfish."

"Please don't hate me." Harry said with a sad voice and puppy eyes.

"I just do Harry, so-" Was all I could say before Harry leaned in and locked our lips together. What the fuck? Was he seriously kissing me? Why? Just why?!