friends

9

harry woke up feeling dizzy, his heart was beating extremely fast, and most importantly, he was laying naked all alone in a room he'd never been in before.

but then he remembered. last night. he remembered the man, who's name he forgot, the mans hands touching him, his naked body glued in his mind, and he remembered how he feel alseep in the middle of everything.

where was the man now? harry slowly sat up, and he felt a pain between his legs and groaned of pain, the man wasn't in the room at least.

the room was extremely messy, the walls painted with dirty peeled off yellow paint, piles of clothes wherever you looked, tons of bottles half filled with liquid, and it smelled like shit, sweat and sex. it fucking smelled like sex.

but harrys clothes where no where to be seen, but he didn't wanna stay in the disgustingly dirty bed either, but he couldn't stand up because of the pain or the fact that he was still naked.

so he picked up one of the oversized shirts laying on the filthy floor, and reluctantly pushed it over his head with greasy hair. it hurt like hell standing up from the bed, but it was nice, getting up from that bed.

every time he closed his eyes all he could see was scenes from last night, even if they were blurry, all he could think about was the sweaty hand on him and the man standing naked in front of him, talking about how he was going to have sex with harry styles.

he shivered of the thought, trying to walk over to the door on the other side of the room without collapsing.

he was crying, but felt a relief when he tried pulling the handle and the door was open, and finally getting out of the shit smelling room. he could also breath correctly when he got out in the fresh air, feeling the wind bladder in his warm, sticky face.

as he got out, his mind started to work a little bit better, connecting the place he was now standing on to a place where him and the boys ate dinner once, so luckily he knew the way to the apartment.

*

this was the worst day of his life. as he started to walk out and meet people, since it was in the middle of the day, they started to take pictures of him, walking like an he broke a leg, in a dirty, oversized t-shirt without underwear's or pants, crying. so before too many people could take pictures of him or maybe even paps could find him, he decided to take another way, where there wasn't as many people.

*

when he finally was home all the boys where sitting in the couch, completely silent, not saying a word, he could see a blur of louis crying and biting his nails nervously, but he didn't have the time to look since he tried running into his room as fast as possible considering the pain between his legs.

as he closed the door, he started crying again, he put all his weight in the clean bed and it felt so good. feeling the tears falling down his soiled cheeks and the smooth bed under him. he could really use a shower, but right now, he just wanted to sleep and never ever wake up again. but unfortunately, he didn't get the chance.

a knock on his door, ignoring harrys no, just like him and carefully walking into his room.

" hello, harry " it was louis. he proceeded to take a few small steps closer to harry. right now harry was laying on his bed, on his back, in the shirt he had found, also without underwear. so louis looked away. harry didn't really care right now.

" where were you? " his voice was shaking aggressively and he sounded so weak.

harry didn't answer.

" where you at the pub? "

harry nodded, and louis carefully sat down beside harry, reaching after him with his petty hand. harry frowned a bit when his hand got closer so louis looked away again and moved away a little.