Love Me Please (Larry Stylinson)

15

Louis may not be an angel, but he sure as hell isn't cruel.

This is the only explanation he has for why he answers his phone when he sees Harry is calling at midnight on a cold, windy Tuesday night.

Harry got his number only a few days after their disaster soulmatching. He had never called, though, only texted. Louis always ignored him. If he was cruel he would've blocked his number. If he was cruel he wouldn't answer when he called. He isn't cruel, though.

"Styles," Louis sighs, because he still can't say his real name out loud. It feels impersonal to say it like this. Louis likes impersonal. Impersonal is safe. Safe is not loving Harry Styles. Louis wants to be safe.

He's expecting a snarky response for not using his first name. Instead he gets the sound of shaky, labored breathing. For one awful moment he thinks that maybe Styles accidentally called him while nailing someone else. Dread pools in his stomach easily like it has been doing a lot lately. Is that what Styles feels every time Louis seeks out other guys at parties?

He's about to hang up when Styles finally speaks.

"Lou, I- I don't feel very good- I-" He's cut off by a sharp sob and the sound of a whimper, with that same labored breathing.

Louis is confused and worried and he doesn't understand what's going on. He sounds like he's drunk and while it wouldn't be a first for a weeknight, Louis knows he has a big exam tomorrow and he would never get wasted before an exam, and... Something feels wrong. The ache in his chest gets worse, overwhelming him. "What's wrong? Who are you with right now? Is everyone okay?"

"I'm alone," he gasps like he's out of air, like he's drowning. "I'm alone. I feel so sick- I don't know what to do- Please, Lou- Please make it stop."

Louis is out of bed and is outside running down the sidewalk before he even realizes what he's doing, heading in the direction of the Greek houses. He stays on the phone, listening to the panicked breathing of his soulmate the whole way there.