Playboy » L.S

Chapter 39

Harry's pov.

"Not this shit again," I hear Zayn groan, his voice too loud and obnoxious for it being so early in the morning. I keep my eyes closed and ignore him, hoping that this tactic will make him go away.

A hand wrapping around my upper arm and yanking me from my laying position grabs my attention, my body being flung from the comforts of the bed. I manage to catch myself and only stumble a few times thanks to Zayn's lack of serious muscle.

"You know, most guys would be extremely pissed off to find their man in bed with their best friend," Zayn seethes, crossing his arms over his slim chest.

Liam grumbles about it being too early for this shit, smothering his face back into the pillow, trying to do the same exact thing I was. Zayn isn't having it, clearly, as he stomps over to Liam's side of the bed and yanks him from the soft confines of the blankets.

"The hell, Zayn?" Liam yells, wiping his eyes with his fist, trying to rid the sleep from them.

"This is the fourth fucking time I've come over here to find you two in the same bed!" Oh, shit. Here we go. "I'm sick and tired of this, damnit!"

"It's not like we do anything," I defend lazily. We have the same heated conversation every time he wakes us up so abruptly and it's starting to feel like a record on repeat. It's all my life ever is, really.

"How am I supposed to know that?" Zayn growls. Liam moves to touch his shoulder, but he quickly slaps it away before it can even make contact. "I'm really fucking sick of this. Just because your boyfriend left you doesn't mean you have to try and steal mine, Harry."

"Zayn," Liam sighs, "C'mon, baby, that's rude. He's your best friend."

"Louis didn't leave me, asshole," How fucking dare he bring him up when I'm sober as shit. He should fucking know better. "I left him and I'm fucking miserable. Liam helps me through it, okay? I come to him for comfort as a friend would. I have no intentions of fucking him. How stupid can you really be?"

"Don't call me stupid, you piece of shit," What the hell.. "Liam is mine, Harry. Go find somebody else to sleep with."

"Dude, you're the one whose technically cheating on him," I laugh bitterly. "Pick a fucking gender and stick with it and stop stringing Liam and Perrie along. It's pathetic."

"Harry," Liam warns, but Zayn has already stomped around the bed and let his fist connect with my right cheek. I stumble a bit to the side, but luckily keep my balance.

"All you have left is drugs and alcohol, Harry! Nobody can stand you anymore! Stop fucking coming to Liam for weed and figure that shit out on your own. I swear to god, if I find you here again, we're no longer friends. I mean it, Harry. Get your shit and get out."

"Zayn, it's my house," Liam finally steps in.

"I don't give a shit. It's me or him, Liam," Zayn stands his ground, crossing his arms over his slim chest.

Liam sighs heavily, his shoulders visibly slouching. He bows his head and glances at me. "I'm sorry, Harry."

"What the fuck ever," I mutter, picking my clothes up off the floor and quickly dressing. "Fuck you both. You're both assholes."

"Fuck you too, Harry," Zayn yells as I finally slip my boots on and stomp out of the room.

When I get into my car, I slam my hands on the steering wheel out of complete frustration and irritation. My fucking life is falling apart, all of it leading back to one particular person who I want to see so badly but know that I can't. I haven't seen Louis in months, so I don't even know if he cares about me anymore. He hasn't even attempted to contact me, not even when I needed him most.