Harry was downstairs in the living room of Liam's flat, feeling very out of place amongst the sweaty teens grinding on each other around him. He was surrounded by people and he still felt alone. Harry was about four drinks in, not including Louis' whiskey, and was now nursing his fifth cup (this one containing watermelon vodka which he actually really liked).

"Harry! You okay? You look kind of stressed," Liam's voice rang. The brunette approached Harry with a concerned look on his face.

Harry met the boy's brown eyes, nodding his head. "Yeah. M'fine," he replied slowly, trying to figure out why Liam even cared. He took another drink and swallowed it, his throat suddenly feeling dry.

"You know, you look good tonight, H. Can I get you a drink?" he asked, crossing his toned arms over his chest with one of his signature dazzling smiles.

Harry gestured to his red cup, as if he were toasting. "I'm all good. I've got one. Thanks though," he said, knowingly acting a little short with the boy. He was drunk and annoyed and not really prepared to deal with Liam's scrutiny which was most likely coming at any moment.

"You should smile more. You look better when you're not scowling like that. You're a super good looking kid, Haz, show it off," Liam nudged Harry with his elbow.

Harry was surprised. Liam sounded the kindest he had in a long time. But, he knew that everything was a game with Liam, there was definitely something hidden behind his sudden sweetness. And it definitely wasn't just that Liam was drunk, Harry knew that the older boy could drink for hours without even slurring a single word or stumbling on a single step or altering a single behavior. He just didn't know what the boy wanted this time, what he was trying to get at.

"Thanks, Li," Harry said apprehensively. "Are you having a good time?"

A flirty grin appeared on Liam's face. "Yeah, I actually am. The night got better now though, considering I'm hanging out with you," he laughed. "I've missed you, Harry. And your friendship."

Harry took another drink, feeling quite uncomfortable. "Yeah. I've missed your friendship too," he responded truthfully, though he still wasn't sure that Liam was being sincere. He quickly changed the subject, hoping to make things a little less awkward. "So, um, what do you usually do when you throw these big parties? Is hosting as glamorous as it seems?"

Liam shrugged, clearly uninterested by the conversation's sudden new direction. "It's not too bad. Usually I just drink and play beer pong and dance," he listed off, counting off on his fingers.

"And make out with Cheryl?" Harry blurted, not even realizing that the words actually left his mouth.

Liam looked taken back. His eyebrows were raised and an amused smirk had spread across his lips. "Where did that come from, H?" he asked, sounding highly entertained.

Harry felt his cheeks heat up with embarrassment. "I guess I just," he trailed off, a little fuzzy and a little panicky as to what Liam would say next. "I don't know."

"You just had a lot to drink?" Liam finished for him.

"You could say that."

He nodded understandingly. "Yeah, I've been there and done that. But, while we're on the topic of Cheryl, have you seen her? She's kinda been MIA all night. I know that she's up to something. I can feel it," the older lad said uneasily. Liam shifted between his feet, dark eyes scanning the crowd as if he were searching for her again.

Harry cracked a small smile. "You really like her, don't you?" he asked, not caring that the only reason Liam was probably being nice to him was for information on Cheryl. It was weirdly sweet of Liam to care so much.

A look of embarrassment appeared on his face. "Yeah, we've pretty much been together forever, you know? She's always been a piece of work, but I still love her. But now, ever since your little social experiment showed up, she's different," he sighed, sounding annoyed and disappointed.

"Do you mean Louis?"

"Do you know where he is?" Liam asked.

Harry shook his head. "Nope. Maybe he's in the bathroom," he mumbled bitterly, downing the rest of his glass and immediately searching for another drink.

"Or he's upstairs with Cheryl," Liam suggested.

Harry knew that Louis was both of those things, and now at this point, the pair could be doing who knows what. He simply shrugged, deciding not to say anything because he wasn't a good enough liar to make something up.

"What? Is she not his type?" Liam asked hopefully.

"I wouldn't know what his type is."

The brown haired boy sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "You know you've seen them at school. It's like he can't stay away from her," he noted frustratedly.

"I'm pretty sure it's the other way around, Liam," Harry chuckled under his breath, setting his empty cup down on a little end table beside them.

Liam shook his head. "He's got you totally fooled, doesn't he? You don't see it at all. He's not who you think he is, Harry. He's not a good guy," he scoffed, running a hand through his hair.

"God, Liam, we were finally getting along. Why do you always have to ruin it?" Harry sighed. He turned on his heel and started to move in the opposite direction through the crowd. He was over everything. The entire night had been a bust and Liam was just the cherry on top.

Liam called out after him, "You can't trust him, Har! I'm just looking out for you!"

Harry felt his frustration growing as he stormed into the next room. He headed down a long hallway towards a bathroom, wanting to splash a little water on his face. When he turned towards the bathroom, he spotted Louis leaning up against the wall, looking stressed out. "Hey Louis, what are you doing?" Harry called out, grabbing the boy's attention.

"Nothing. Come on, H, let's get out of here," Louis replied quickly. He had clearly sobered up, at least a little. The foggy look in his eyes was gone and he didn't reek of whiskey anymore. He slipped his hand into Harry's and gave it a squeeze.

"What's going on? Why do you want to leave?" he asked, partly confused and partly concerned. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, nothing's going on. I'm fine. But we're leaving," Louis said abruptly, tugging Harry towards the exit.

Harry wiggled out of Louis' grasp. "Why? Did you get bored with Cheryl so now you're ready to go?" he asked, letting the alcohol speak as he crossed his arms angrily over his chest

Louis ran his fingers through his hair in distress. "Harry, nothing even happened with her, come on. Just listen to me, we really should go. Please," he said, sounding worried.

"I have to go to the bathroom, just wait," Harry dismissed him, pushing past Louis to open the door.

Louis grabbed his sleeve and called out, "Harry, don't go in there!"

But it was too late. Harry was already halfway into the room and had a full view of what Louis was trying to hide from him- it was Nick and Niall. The blonde boy was sitting on the counter, Nick standing in between his legs. They were kissing; lips smacking and hands wandering and bodies touching. It was quite graphic and looked like it was just seconds away from escalating into something more.

Harry felt like someone had stomped on his heart with steel toed boots, like it had been run over by a semi-truck. "What the fuck?" he cried out, no other words coming to mind.

Nick practically jumped out of his skin, stumbling backwards into the wall behind him in surprise. Niall jumped down off the counter, his eyes were wide with panic. Nick reached out to gently touch Harry's arm and Niall was stepping towards him carefully. They both started to speak and Louis loudly started to fire off threats and Harry couldn't even register what any of them were saying.

All Harry could focus on was the giant purple hickey on his best friend's neck.

He slapped Nicks' hand away hard and tore his sleeve out of Louis' grasp, finding himself running away once again. He pushed his way through the crowd and darted outside, everything about it feeling sickeningly familiar. He stumbled down the sidewalk towards his parked car and fumbled with his keys, too drunk and too upset to accomplish anything.

"H! Harry, wait! You can't drive right now," Louis' voice echoed over the dull music. The blue eyed boy came sprinting down the pathway behind Harry, wrapping an arm around the curly haired boy's waist to steer him away from the car. Louis felt unbelievably sick, and it wasn't because of the drinking, but because he felt responsible that Harry saw what he did.

Harry shoved Louis away forcefully, yelling at the top of his lungs, "Then you drive! Get me out of here!"

"Harry, try to calm down. Neither of us are in the right state to drive a car. Just take a deep breath and-"

"-I won't take a stupid deep breath! I'm walking home," he declared. Tears had begun to fall from his green eyes, slipping down his cheeks and onto his tee shirt.

"Harry, it's too late for you to be walking all the way back! It's not safe. Come sit down."

"Don't tell me what the fuck to do!" he practically screamed, starting to cry harder. He really felt like he was going to throw up. He had never felt worse; he was so tired of being hurt and he just couldn't stay there for one more second.

Louis took both of Harry's hands in his own, begging, "Please wait with me. I'll get us a ride, just don't go anywhere. It'll only be a few minutes tops."

"Fine," Harry choked out. "A couple minutes is all you've got and then I'm walking."

Louis let go of Harry's hands to pull his cell phone out of his pocket, raising it to his ear as Harry sat on the curb and buried his face in his hands. "Z, I need a ride. Like, now. I'll text you the address. I really owe you one," he said into his phone, pacing back and forth with one eye trained on Harry as a precaution. After another moment, he moved to sit beside the taller boy on the curb. Louis took a deep breath and said, "Our ride is on his way."

Harry looked over to meet Louis' concerned stare. "I just don't know what I'm doing wrong. I don't get why I keep getting hurt," he stuttered out, bottom lip quivering. He was practically shaking like a leaf.

Louis pulled Harry into a tight embrace, hugging him to his chest. "I'm really sorry. It'll be alright, okay? Just, don't cry. Please," he practically whispered into Harry's curls.

"Don't cry? Are you kidding, that's how you're consoling me? Is that all you've got?"

Louis rubbed small circles onto Harry's back with his hand, awkwardly grimacing. "I'm not very good at this," he admitted. It was understandable though, considering he'd never had anyone close to him that needed consoling.

"You fucking suck," Harry managed to say, his voice cracking as he started to cry harder. He buried his face in Louis' chest, sobbing into the material of his tee shirt.

Louis sighed quietly and said, "I know. And I'm sorry."

A black car quickly pulled up beside them. It had barely come to a complete stop before the driver's door was thrown open and a tattooed boy with raven hair jumped out. "Louis! This is a fucking castle!" he squealed excitedly, not seeming to notice the crying boy or the look of distress on Louis' face.

Louis rolled his eyes and climbed to his feet, helping Harry up with him. With one arm supporting Harry, the other was free to slip the watch he had taken from Liam's room out of his pocket. He carefully passed it to Zayn, trying to be discreet. "Don't take less than twenty for it, got it Zayn?" he said quietly to his best mate, trying to be quiet enough that Harry wouldn't hear over the sounds of his own crying.

"How 'bout we go back inside and party with your new friends for a while, Richie Rich?" Zayn gaped, shoving the watch into his pocket after examining it closely. He gave Louis a playful nudge as he grinned cheekily.

"Stop being an ass, we've got to go," Louis said sternly. He ushered Harry towards the car on the tall boy's shaky legs, struggling to open up the door and get him into the backseat.

Zayn leaned down to whisper to Louis once Harry was sprawled out in the back, a look of concern on his face as he asked, "Um, this lightweight isn't gonna puke in my car, right?"

"Let's hope not," Louis shrugged, climbing in after Harry.

-

After pulling over three times for Harry to vomit (one of which he claimed to be due to motion sickness and two from the alcohol), Zayn dropped Louis and Harry back at the Styles' flat.

The pair crept in the front door as quietly as they could. Harry was stumbling over his own feet the whole way, no matter how much Louis tried to stabilize him, and tripped onto the kitchen floor with a loud grunt. Louis quickly kneeled down to help him and make sure he was alright, softly urging, "Shit, H, be careful! We can't wake your mum."

"Louis? Will you tell me that this is all just a bad dream?" Harry whispered weakly in response. A stray tear fell down his flushed cheek as he squeezed his eyes closed, not moving from his spot on the ground.

Louis sighed, his heart aching for the boy. He wished he knew what to do or say to make things better. "I would if I could. Now come on, Princess, let's get you up. You're sloshed and you need to get some rest, you can't just lay on the kitchen floor forever," he replied quietly, sitting Harry up.

"I don't want to feel alone anymore," Harry breathed, looking up at Louis with sad eyes.

"Trust me, I get it," the blue eyes boy frowned.

It took forever for the boys to get upstairs with Harry falling all over the place. About halfway up, Louis quit letting the lad walk by himself. He hoisted Harry up, bridal style, and slowly carried him the rest of the way. Though it was a struggle, they made it to Harry's room without waking Anne.

Harry flopped onto his bed and curled up into a ball with a quiet yawn, Louis taking a minute to cover the boy up with a blanket.

It was weird for Louis to be taking care of Harry like this, he'd never taken care of anyone before because he'd never had anyone to take care of. But, right from the beginning, he'd just felt compelled to take care of Harry. He wanted to wrap the boy's heart in bubble wrap and hide him away from all the bad people in the world. He wanted to protect him and keep him safe. Weird.

But, Louis was barely managing to keep himself safe. He knew that he was bad news, that he'd only hurt Harry in the long run. And as much as he wished things were different, as much as he wished that they could be together and be happy, he knew that it wouldn't ever work.

And that really sucked.

"I always knew you had a sweet side," Harry mumbled tiredly, interrupting Louis' thoughts.

"What?"

"You tried to protect me back there, I just didn't listen. And you're still taking care of me now. I didn't think you-"

Louis cut him off, "-You didn't think I was capable of being this nice, right? I get it, nobody ever does. Don't mention it." He tried not to frown, stepping back away from the bed and shoving his hands into his pockets.

"That's not what I was going to say, Louis."

Louis just shook his head, not really wanting to stay any longer. He had his moment and it was over now. His job was done and it was time for him to go. After all, distance would probably be his only form of defense against the way he was starting to feel for Harry. "It's okay. Just get some sleep, alright?" he said softly.

"Please, don't go. I really don't want to be alone right now. Can you just stay in here with me tonight?" Harry begged, sitting up and grabbing Louis' hand before the boy could leave.

Louis sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I don't think so, Harry," he started to say. It was a really, really bad idea. After all, Louis had literally just told himself to stay away. But as soon as he saw how wide and sad the boy's green eyes were, he gave in. He was weak! "Fine, fuck it. Just tonight. But no cuddling, okay?"

"Okay," Harry whispered, scooting over to the far side of the bed. He patted the empty space beside him.

Louis sat down on the edge of the bed, taking a deep breath. "This doesn't mean anything though, Harry. You don't want to have anything to do with me," he said in a warning tone, his back to the boy as he hesitated to lay down. He had to make sure that Harry knew. He might have had to make sure that he knew too.

"It can mean something to me, you don't get to tell me it doesn't."

"No. It can't mean something and I do get to tell you that. You're drunk and not thinking straight and this is just because you don't want to be alone. That's it," Louis said quickly, looking at Harry over his shoulder.

Harry frowned slightly, putting his pillow over his head. "Fuck you, Louis. I'm gonna cuddle you so hard just because you said that," he mumbled.

Louis smiled crookedly, shaking his head as he laid down. "Whatever you say, Princess," he managed to say, his heart skipping a beat.

The two quickly fell silent, nothing but the sounds of their breathing filling the air. Louis didn't know if Harry was asleep or not, he couldn't tell and he didn't want to look at the boy, but it sounded kind of like he was. Louis quickly sat up and tugged his tee shirt off, he was so hot from the blankets and Harry's body heat and he figured that it didn't even matter since Harry was probably already out.

But he was wrong. As soon as he laid back down, he felt Harry's fingers brush against his skin. "What does this tattoo mean? The one that says Jay?" Harry whispered softly. "And how did you get all of these scars on your back, Lou?"

Louis rolled over, coming face to face with the sleepy looking green eyed boy. "I'll tell you another time, okay?" he suggested, not really wanting to talk about it.

"You have a lot of dark secrets, don't you?"

"Define dark," Louis mumbled, turning back around.

"I don't know. Like the fire story, that's dark. And your tattoos and your scars and Eleanor? That girl who died?" Harry rambled softly, eyes fluttering closed. "I'm sorry you've been through so much. I wish I knew you sooner, I could've helped you."

Louis didn't say anything. He felt like his stomach tightened and his heart wrenched don't and his eyes burned just at the mere mention of Eleanor. Everything inside him hurt. He closed his eyes and tried to pretend that he was somewhere else.

He pretended that he wasn't Louis Tomlinson and he pretended that he actually had a chance with Harry Styles.