17 Black

20•

This one is a super short one guys, and it leaves on a cliff-hanger (SORRYYYY AGAIN I KNOW IM AWFUL). Larry action coming upppppp I won't give away any hints about it though;) I've been really busy with school and sports, and also super slow at updating so I really appreciate all of your patience with me and I hope you're enjoying the story! Love u guys and your FUCKIN HILARIOUS COMMENTS KEEP THAT SHIT UP YEET
-Bella
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It feels like there's a dozen drills twisting into Louis' brain, all set on their lowest, most excruciating setting. The fucking bright sun decided to shine right on his fucking face, too, which adds another dozen drills in his head. Screw vodkas and their stupid orange slices. His hair is still a little damp and stuck together with wetness at the ends, and Louis feels like chopping it all off. Instead, he rolls out of bed and starts his shower, stubbing his toe on the way, of course.

He may or may not momentarily doze off against the slippery tile, but hey--at least he didn't fall in there and kill himself. When he gets out, the hot steam clings to his skin and he feels refreshingly clean. He changes back into the pair of sweats and the sweatshirt that he wore late last night, but as soon as the faint scent of vanilla and Harry that lingers in the soft cotton threads of the garment reach his senses, his mind immediately switches into gear. Every moment of the night before returning to him in great detail. He remembers the look on Harry's face when he first saw him in the bar, and the low, angry rasp of his voice when they were in the car. He remembers laying in bed and Harry looming over him, wet skin glowing in the dim light, and rain dripping off of his face, his hair, looking like a god. He remembers the slow drag of Harry's fingers against his chest as the shirt came over his head, and that look that kept returning to his eyes, making Louis' heart jump. And lastly, he remembers Harry just leaving--leaving him with so many questions and far too much confusion. And that's not fair at all--not after everything he had done that day, not after everything he had done to Louis throughout the course of this entire season. Harry has owed Louis answers since the first day they met. As he thinks about this, Louis doesn't know if he can last much longer without knowing them. If Harry's not going to tell him what the hell is going on, then he might have to take matters into his own hands and get the answers himself.

Louis saves these thoughts and worries for a time when they can be useful, since he knows he won't talk to Harry until practice on Monday. Potentially. Depending on if Harry decides to avoid him again.

It's a Saturday afternoon, which means Louis has work later tonight at the bar in a handful of hours. He absolutely dreads it. He wishes he could stay in bed all day or go visit Liam, but he has to go deal with Arie and a bunch of stupid, horny bar patrons instead. Louis picks up the wet clothes beside his bed and finds his phone among them, praying that when he turns it on, last night's rain hadn't killed it. Thankfully, the screen blinks to life, and he plugs it in before taking the clothes from last night, along with his other dirty clothes, into the laundry. One he's started them up, he addresses his growling stomach with the only meal he knows how to make, really: eggs and toast. Sometimes, if he's out of eggs or just plain lazy, he'll text Liam to put something together and show up at his house ten minutes later to eat whatever he's made. It usually ends up being something delicious and fancy, like French toast with eggs and hash and sliced fruit in a cup, or cinnamon waffles or some shit that Louis could never do himself. And sometimes Louis will just stay at Liam's for the rest of the day until work or whatever else he has going on, enjoying the company of sweet little Karen and quiet Mr. Payne. The "homey" atmosphere at the Payne household is comforting.

But anyway, in comparison to Liam's fancy breakfast concoctions, Louis' eggs taste bland and are overcooked. He didn't even know it was possible to burn eggs, but he looks down at his plate and stands corrected. Maybe it's for the best if he sticks to cereal.