The man was silent for a few moments before rubbing a hand over his face. "You're not fucking around, are you?" he said slowly.

"I'm not," Harry said, reaching up and tugging at his own hair in annoyance. "I don't know where I am, I don't know who you are and I don't know how I got all these fucking tattoos."

The brunet breathed out slowly, fixing Harry with a look. "Okay, okay, calm down," he said, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder and looking a little hurt when he flinched away again. "What's the last thing you remember, love?"

Harry rubbed his hands over his thighs, relaxing now that the stranger was taking him seriously and maybe he could get some answers. "I went to bed in my bedroom," he said, thinking back. "Uhm, around one in the morning? It took me a while to get to sleep because of the... oh, fuck, I have my audition today. What time is it?"

The man looked a little started and he pulled out a phone that Harry had never seen the likes of before, but it looked expensive. "It's ten in the morning," he replied slowly. "What audition are you talking about?"

"The X-Factor," Harry explained shortly, standing up and searching for a shirt. "Look, I'm sorry but I've really got to go. I'm late and my Mum will be going crazy trying to find me."

"Harry," the man said exasperatedly, grabbing Harry's arm. "The X-Factor? Really? How old do you think you are?"

Harry stopped and turned to face him, frowning at the question. "Sixteen," he answered, and really, that just proved this guy didn't know him.

"Haz," the man said softly, giving him a weird look. "You're twenty six."

Harry stared at him for a moment, snorted incredulously, and then just continued staring because the brunet looked completely serious. "This isn't funny," he said after a moment. "Who the hell are you, anyway?"

The man narrowed his eyes, letting go of Harry's arm and crossing his over his chest. "I'm your husband," he said shortly. At Harry's blank look he sighed. "Louis. Louis Tomlinson."