Lights, Camera, Harry // l.s.

Chapter 57

Louis’ POV

I watched through blurry, tear-filled eyes as Harry walked out and left me alone in the apartment.

“If you keep going like this, I’m going to break.” He had said.

I didn’t want to break him. I never meant for any of this to happen, I just wanted to be happy again and I thought that Harry could help me do that.

But I was just dragging him down with me like I knew I would.

As I stood, frozen, I almost didn’t hear my phone ring. I pulled it from my pocket, saw my agents name across the screen and answered it.

I wasn’t paying attention as she spoke. I just said ‘yes’ a few times before she hung up, saying something about me having to go somewhere soon.

I decided I’d call her back later and figure it out, right then, I was too busy crying over Harry.

I stood there for a minute, shaking as I took it all in before slowly retreating to my bed.

I laid down slowly and closed my eyes, wiping my face of the tears before pulling the blankets up to my chin.

I had never felt more alone then I did right then, especially in my huge bed.

As I fell asleep, I couldn’t shake the image of Harry’s face when he left.

He looked so sad. So, disappointed.

And it killed me to see it written all over his face.

.

A week later I still hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since that night.

I laid awake in my bed, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes, the same way I had been for most of the night.

Everywhere I looked, something reminded me of Harry so I had started trying to block everything out.

But the voices and images in my head were vivid memories and I couldn’t get rid of those, no matter how hard I tried.

“Louis!”

"Kindly, FUCK OFF!" I screamed through my apartment, hoping he'd leave.

"Louis! I'm not going anywhere!" Zayn called out again. "Get here NOW!"

I groaned as he thumped on my front door, again. Slowly, I wiped my face and rolled out of bed, trudging down the hallway to face him.

He was obviously mad, but I couldnt bring myself to care. I didnt care about much these days.

“What.” I snapped, swinging open the door with a grimace to see Zayn standing there with a frown.

“Your agent called me,” He answered, angrily. “You skipped out on another recording?”

I simply rolled up eyes and turned around, leaving the door open as I retreated to the lounge room.

I slumped onto the couch as Zayn shut my front door and joined me.

“What are you doing?” He asked, sitting next to me.

“Watching TV.” I answered, as if it was obvious.

“I meant with your life.” He retorted. “Have you done anything in the past week? Have you even left the apartment?”

“I don’t care.” I stated simply.

“Well you should!” His voice rose. “Your agent had to resort to calling me because you stopped answering her calls.”