Chapter Thirty Six

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Harry stumbled into his dorm room a few hours later, knowing that even if Louis had waited in his room after the fight, he would have left by now. 

He took a shaky breath and headed toward his room, freezing by the door when he heard voices. 

"Oh my God," he heard someone say- it was an unfamiliar voice to Harry, but it sounded male. He heard muffled laughter, and he was about to open the door when he heard. "Your roommate wears these?" 

More laughing. 

There had to be at least four guys in his room. He heard his roommate's voice now, and Harry's heart was racing as he inched closer to the door to hear them. 

"I'm telling you, they're his, man... I mean, it's not like he has a girlfriend. And I mean, come on, he even wears makeup." More laughing. 

"Fuck, how did you end up with the freak-show roommate?" 

Harry opened the door to his room, and saw his roommate, surrounded by four of his friends, some of them still laughing, and one of them holding a pair of Harry's panties between his thumb and pointer finger like they were too disgusting to touch. But they were clean, they were in Harry's drawer

Harry's heart slammed against his rib cage when he saw the pair the boy was holding. 

The green lace pair. 

I just thought they were, you know... festive...

...I want to show you how much I like my gift...

Good boy...

"Give that back," Harry said, his voice steady as he locked eyes with the boy that was holding onto the pair of panties. 

The boy tossed them into Harry's hands, and all the guys in the room fell silent. Harry snatched his favourite clothing items from his drawer, his school books, and his necessary toiletries, stuffing them into a small duffel bag before zipping it up and looking over at his roommate. 

"Don't you ever go through my stuff again," Harry warned. 

His roommate mumbled something about 'we were just messing around' but Harry had slammed the door before he could hear the whole halfhearted explanation. 

He made it about halfway to the bus stop before he broke down. He slipped behind a quiet building, sitting down on a park bench and fumbling out his phone. 

"I need-" he gasped. "Need you, please come." he sniffled, and wiped at his nose with the sleeve of his flannel. "I don't know," he moaned, shaking his leg up and down. "Behind Benton Hall I, I think, you know which building that is? I don't know I'm on a bench," he said, and he couldn't get out any coherent words after that so he hung up the phone and hugged his knees to his chest. 

And people walked by and some people stared, and God, he was still clutching onto that green pair of undies but at college everyone seemed to mind their own business. He knew he'd been sitting there for at least fifteen minutes since the call ended but he still held his phone in his hand like he'd just hung up. 

A pair of strong arms wound around him. 

"Right here," he heard- soothing, soft, but trying to tug him up from the bench. Familiar cologne. "Let's get you somewhere comfy. Make you some tea? Run you a bath?"

"Wanna stay here," Harry grumbled, but he was gently tugged up and lead toward the parking lot. Warm hands.  

"You can't just live on a park bench, H." 

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