Rumors, Rumors, Nothing But Rumors (L.S)

Chapter Sixteen

A/N I just restarted work after two weeks of drinking and now I'm tuning into my new everyday without school and I love it.

Louis feels like absolute shit when he wakes up, and it isn't even because he is hungover, as all the alcohol he drank last night was practically out of his system by the time he stopped crying yesterday. Well, technically Louis never really stopped crying, he just fell asleep at some point.

A horrible, horrible night's sleep that has left him drained and with a numb headache, his body feeling ten times heavier than normal. Yet even in this pathetic state - tired and unwell, combined with tear-streaked cheeks and the need for a shower - the worst part is still Harry.

Louis doesn't even know how Harry got home last night - if he got home last night - and that only adds another worry to the exponentially growing pile of concern for their relationship, anger with himself, self-hate for fucking everything up, and worst of all: Having hurt Harry, after the model opened up to him, and knowing very well that Harry might not ever forgive him for that.

Hell, Louis barely remembers how he himself got home last night - he wasn't that drunk, just blinded by tears and suddenly a weird kind of numb - definitely not in a state to drive.

Reluctantly, Louis gets out of bed, waddling over to the window as he is wrapped in a blanket.

Their car is there, parked neatly in the parking space as always. Briefly, he prays everything was a dream, and that him and Harry are better than ever, but he can barely convince himself of that for a second.

And that's when he remembers; He called Zayn last night after running out of the club's backdoor in a fruitless search of Harry, tears streaming down his face as soon as he got outside and his best friend took a cab across the city, all the while trying to calm a frantically sobbing Louis through the phone and attempting to stay calm himself without knowing whether Louis' incoherent state meant he was in danger, hurt or something worse.

Zayn had found him sitting on the pavement almost a block away from the party, as Louis wanted to avoid all the paparazzi and people outside the main entrance of the club. It's a luck Zayn found him really, but instead of scolding Louis for scaring him, like he probably wanted to do, Zayn just dragged him to his feet, hugged him close and took him home.

That's kind of the latest thing Louis remembers from last night. Oh, and a whole lot of crying, yet he still feels like he could cry again, as soon as his body is hydrated in the slightest.

Well, Louis reasons. Considering that he has already gotten up from his bed, he should probably get some water or something, before he ends up crying under his duvet again, being sad for the rest of the day. So, he tiptoes into the kitchen, still rolled up in the blanket, sleep-marks and tearstains covering his face, and he is suddenly glad that Zayn is currently at work, so he can be home alone in his despair.

However, Louis doesn't even make it to the kitchen, as Zayn catches his eye from the couch, immediately opening his arms from his horizontal position, inviting Louis into a hug despite his disheveled stage.

"Called in sick, love", Zayn mumbles into his hair, and fine, maybe Louis is glad he isn't home alone even though he's now crying again, something he thought nearly impossible, considering the amount he has already cried.

***

Zayn didn't ask about what happened yesterday, just told Louis to drink some water, prepared him a toothbrush and tucked him into bed, offering to stay until his friend fell asleep - hell, until morning - but Louis had refused so, telling Zayn that he had done more than enough already.

Zayn still doesn't ask about anything, even after Louis has been crying into his chest for about half an hour without uttering as much as one word. And here Louis was thinking that he was too dehydrated to cry.