Bullshit

Chapter 6

I don't know what was worse, when Louis yelled at me and got mad at me before, or how he completely ignores me now. No wait, I do know. The ignoring is way worse then when he was yelling at me. 

Louis had told me that he isn't mad at me anymore, that he's fine if I'm gay and I quote; 

"Im sure you'll find a lucky bloke one day."

Those words were probably the last that he spoke to me in the past week. Sure then had been small hellos, and when we're forced to talk on stage. But he wasn't talking to me anymore. Even though he said he was fine with it, I knew he wasn't. I knew that he thought that if he stopped talking to me and touching me, that my feelings would just magically go away.

Sure that might work for a 12 year old thats had a crsuh on someone for a week. But I've been in love with Louis for over three years now... feelings like that aren't just going to go away because he's avoiding me. And it hurt like a bitch when he purposley did that. Everytime he did it, it caused a sharp pain in my chest and brought tears to my eyes. 

Ever since the one night where he held me... its been the only thing that I could think about. His warm string arms, keeping me safe and protected from the world. His hot breath against the back of my neck, as if he was ready to whisper in my ear. And his steady heartbeat, that brought me to sleep, early in the morning. Everything about that night was perfect, except for one problem. The only reason that he did it was so that I would leave him alone.

And I kept to my word. I didn't talk to him unless he talked to me, which was usually only small meaningless greetings. No longer did I talk about Larry Stylinson, or talk about me being gay or having feelings for him. Even though I cried every night, I held it in and put on a fake smile, like I had been doing for the past 2 years now. In fact, I was so good at fake smiling, you could call me an expert.

"Harry, what do you want for breakfast?" Liam asked from the front of the van.

We had just gotten back from a signing and now we were getting something to eat.

"M'not hungry." I said.

"Harry, you haven't been hungry for the past week, you have to eat something." He urged.

I shrugged. "Guess I lost my appetite then." 

"You have to eat something." He told me.

"I don't have to do anything Liam, just leave it. Its fine." I muttered.

"Sir? Areyou still there?" The voice asked from the ordering machine.

"Yes sorry." Paul said. "We'll aslo have a chiken sandwich and a water." He told her.

Paul turned and looked at me. "You are going to eat that, do you understand Harry?"

I nodded slowly and looked down at the car floor. I really didn't want to eat, ever since that night, I have't been able to eat much. Even if I felt hungry, part of me just didn't feel like I deserved to eat. And I know it sounds stupid, but it was like my mind was punishing my body for not being good enough for Louis.

Once the food was in my hand I stared down at it, my face blank. It wasn't gross, in fact it looked quite delicous. But my body just didn't want to eat the sadnwich,I take a small peice of the bread and force myself to swallow it. Thankfully Paul was to busy focusing on the road to pay attention to me barely eating. 

By the time we had gotten back to the hotel, I had ate half of the bread and a little bit of salad that was on the sandwich. But other then that, I refused to eat anythig else. Paul frowned at me, and gave me a dissapointed look when I threw out the sandwich. I ignored it and kept walking to my room. I slammed the door shut and fell on my bed. Pretty soon sleep overtook me, and I took a nice mid-day nap.