Pairing: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Harry Styles/Zayn Malik
Word Count: 1,262
Summary: Harry never cries, especially not when he's sober so this, this is something.
Warnings: Breakup fic, overall angst, Louis feels
Dedication: Dedicating this to Cat and only Cat just to torture her.
Disclaimer: I assure you if One Direction belonged to me I'd be far too busy hanging with them to write fic.
Author Notes: I don't know. Sorry... by Allstar Weekend came on shuffle and then I started writing. Title goes to Living Proof by The Downtown Fiction. Cut goes to Come Back Home by Two Door Cinema Club
“I’m sorry…” He’s drunk and Louis can tell before he even says anything because of the fact that he sounds like he’s crying. Harry never cries, especially not when he’s sober so this, this is something. Louis doesn’t know how to respond so he just holds the phone in his hand, trying to ignore how he’s shaking just at the sound of Harry’s voice in his ear. “I’m sorry, Lou. I’m sorry…”
“No,” Louis responds and it’s quiet with just a hint of tentativeness but the anger’s what really gets through and he knows this by the way Harry’s breath hitches as he tries to choke back a sob. “You don’t get to do that anymore. You don’t get to call me by my nickname and try and make it sound like everything’s okay when we both know it’s not.”
Harry stutters and Louis almost forces himself to rip the phone away from his ear and end the call before he can hear the rest of this but he doesn’t. He keeps on listening, waiting quietly for Harry to figure out what he’s trying to say and when he eventually does speak it’s so soft that Louis almost misses it.
“You left me, remember?” And Louis’s throat tightens because he did. That was his fault, but everything else…everything else was Harry’s. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to keep the flashback of memories from coming forth because if he does then the tears that have been threating to fall, the tears that he’s yet to let win will appear and he can’t do that. If Louis knows anything he knows that the second he cries then the cracks will start to show and they’ll be ruined.
“I left you, yeah,” Louis manages, his voice choked. “But at least I didn’t cheat on you.” It’s harsh but it’s true and it’s the first time that Louis’s managed to say it aloud. He tries not to think back to when it happened; when they’d gone out to that club and Harry’s eyes had drifted away to the bartender, the one with the tanned skin and the random tattoos that barely even looked up from pouring the drinks and actually wore glasses even though Louis was sure he didn’t need them.
Harry sobs and Louis finds himself having to reach out and grab ahold of something to keep his knees from buckling at the sound. He wants to apologise even though it’s not his apology that’s needed. He wants to find Harry and scoop him up and press kisses to any bit of exposed skin, whispering apologies until Harry’s actually weighed down by them. He wants to fuck him, no, he wants to make love to him tenderly and tuck him into his bed and take him back.
But he can’t do that. He can’t let Harry back into his life after this.
“I-I know…” Harry stutters and he can’t breathe around his tears. “I know what…what I did and I’m so, so sorry…” Louis almost drops the phone from how much his hand is shaking and he barely manages to slip it onto the counter and press the speaker button before Harry continues. “If I could take it back I would. I…Zayn-“
“Stop,” Louis cuts in because he didn’t want to know the man’s name. He never did and now that he does it’s like the anger and betrayal has anchored itself into his heart so that he can’t find it in himself to let Harry back in. He wants to. He wants to more than anything, but after knowing what Harry’s done, after walking in on Harry writhing beneath the body of someone who wasn’t him, Louis’s not sure he can do it.
“Just stop, Harry,” Louis whispers and it’s defeated, completely defeated to the point where he can’t…he can’t anymore. “Don’t apologise. Don’t call me again. I don’t…I can’t…” He swallows. “I can’t love someone who doesn’t love me back.”
Harry’s full out sobbing on the other line and each one’s more broken than the last. Louis can hear the way that Harry’s falling apart and he can almost imagine it, perfectly seeing how Harry would be curled up in a ball, the phone clutched in his hand so tightly that he’d end up breaking it if it weren’t for the fact that he’s barely holding on. Louis can almost see the tears running down Harry’s cheeks, his eye rimmed with red as he tries to keep himself together but fails completely.
The image is burned in his mind and Louis desperately scrubs at his eyes to remove it as Harry chokes out a, “I do love you…” And it’s broken, just like Louis is and he feels like the words are tearing apart what’s left of his heart; the little bit that he managed to repair after he found Harry with someone else. “It was a mistake. A drunken mistake, Louis. Louis please!”
“No,” Louis manages and the finality of it shocks him just as much as it does Harry. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry, Haz. Goodbye.” He hesitates to push the end button because he knows that this is it; that there’s no going back from this. The call ends just as Harry sobs again and Louis breaks at the sound of just how broken Harry sounded.
He could’ve taken Harry back. They could’ve fixed this, made it all better. He knows this and it utterly destroys him that that wasn’t the path he chose because Louis knows he had that in him. He knows that he could’ve picked Harry, but what would he have sacrificed to choose him? How much of himself would he have lost in order to take back the one person that he actually admitted that he loved? How much would have had to been sacrificed to feel happy again?
Too much. It was always too much with Harry because Harry takes and takes and takes until Louis has nothing left to give and he’s left alone, empty; a shell of what he once was. It’s because he loves Harry and he loves him so much that he would give Harry the world if he could but even if he’d done that Harry still would’ve wanted more and there was no more. There is no more. And Louis knows that this…this might be the death of him.
He doesn’t realise that he’s crumpled to the floor until his knee slams against the edge of the coffee table and he gasps in pain. He can feel the wetness starting to form at the corner of his eyes and Louis can’t breathe anymore because he’s done it; he’s let Harry go and now he’s all alone.
That’s how it always ends. In the end he’s alone, left with nothing and no one to care that he exists, that he’s human too and he needs to be cared about and cared for. Louis cries, the tears slipping down his face silently at first until they turn into loud, aching sobs that make his chest ache until he’s coughing and choking because he can’t breathe.
The blood’s rushing through his ears, as he chokes, hyperventilating in an attempt to just breathe. But all he can hear is Harry’s broken sobs and his even more shattered apologies repeating over and over, taunting and torturing him until he’s not Louis. He’s not anything anymore.
After all he never was much of anything without Harry. Now that he’s gone there’s absolutely nothing left to Louis. Then again, maybe there never was.