Fine line (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 11

"Louis, what the hell are you doing on my front porch?"

He lets out a cynical, sloppy chuckle and the smell of liquor hit me like a bus. God, he was fucking wasted.

"Oh," Louis slurred, "this is your house, is it? I had no clue."

"Don't fuck with me, Lou. What are you doing here?"

I had to bite my lip to refrain from asking more. The man was hardly coherent as it is, god forbid I tried to hold an actual conversation with him.

I couldn't quite tell what I was feeling, but I knew it wasn't good. Confused was definitely at the top of the list.

"I just wanted to congratulate you on your speech."

Louis began to stand, and although I should've helped to keep him from falling, I felt frozen in place.

He was drunk. Drunk drunk. And he was here, on my front porch steps, talking about my speech?

And how the hell did he even get here? He couldn't have walked, not in the condition he was in now. At least not safely.

"You already did."

I spoke through gritted teeth, the anger in my veins starting to burst through my pores.

He laughed again, cynically and dryly, and took another drag off of the cigarette. The suit he was wearing was wrinkled and hung loosely around him, both signs of his drunken demeanor.

"No," he slurred once more and stumbled as he moved closer to me "I didn't. Not really."

Almost without hesitation, I took a step away from him.

"Shit Lou, just say it. Congratulate me, say what you have to say and then get the hell out of here."

I spoke before thinking, but didn't exactly regret my words. For the first time in a long time, I wished to be farther away from him rather than longed to be closer.

I felt anger writhing inside of me, confusion, disgust, even.

I didn't know the person standing in front of me. Not anymore.

"It was bullshit, you know that right?"

He spat his words at me, and they hit me like daggers.

"Excuse me?"

"It was all bullshit, Harry. The speech and everything about it."

I could do nothing but stare at him, hatred spreading like wildfire in my chest.

He began to speech again, but stumbled violently and began falling. Without thinking, I moved quickly and caught him under his arm.

I felt my body tense at the touch of him but I pushed the thought away. Now was not the time for that. I don't think it ever will be.

Louis laughed, obviously amused at the game he was playing with me.

"Stand up," I spoke sternly, "I'm calling you a cab, and you're leaving."

Without warning, he jerked himself away from me, stumbling backwards and almost falling once more. It was almost pathetic to watch, but I could still feel that pull in my heart. That voice in my head urging me to help him, guide him.

"My fiancè will pick me up. I bet she's already on the way here."

I couldn't help myself, and let out my own cynical laugh at his words.

"Your fiancè, Louis, left the party hours ago. She's probably in bed, asleep. Let me call you a cab."

I noticed a slight falter in his features, but it disappeared within a second.