"What the fuck have you done to your chest?" A voice shouts at me. His voice is far too familiar, and the usual shame runs through my body, and I turn. Jack? "Are you stupid? Answer me."

"Jack?" I question. I thought we weren't together. He huffs, crossing his arms.

"What do you mean 'Jack?'?" He asks, exasperated. I've pissed him off. I hate making him angry. He walks towards me and I back off.

"Sorry," I say, I always say sorry. "It's a tattoo."

He laughs spitefully.

"I know what it is, idiot," He spits. "Why have you ruined your chest?"

Ruined it? I loved these tattoos.

"I like these." I reply, quietly. He laughs. Don't laugh at me, please.

"You look horrible," He laughs. No, don't. "You've ruined yourself. Don't you care what I think?"

"Of course I do, I-," I try to say before he cuts me off.

"Shut up, Louis," He shouts and I know I'm in trouble. He never calls me Louis. "Don't fucking lie." I curl in on myself.

"I'm not lying," I barely whisper. He gets right in my face and I feel so small.

"You know what? I'm done," He says, and my heart shatters. "I can't do this anymore."

What? No! We've been together 3 years. What do you mean you can't...

"No," I cry out, trying to grab him but somehow I can't get a hold. He moves away. "No, no, no! I love you. Please don't do this." I shout.

He's not listening!

"No, you can't do this!" I desperately shout. "Don't go. You can't leave!"

This is torture. I'm sure he's already left me.

Suddenly, I'm roused awake, and unusual darkness surrounds me. I'm in somebody's arms, tears drenching my face.

"Louis," A voice calls. I hear a dreadful sob, and I realise it was me. "Louis, wake up."

Harry. I turn, looking at him, bewildered. Oh, God. Why is he here? Taking in the room, I realise I'm in his bed.

"Louis," He says, sounding relieved. He hugs me, and I take a second to feel comfort before I stiffen. That dream was the reason you don't let anyone in.

"No," I whimper and he loosens his hold. "Please, I can't. I can't." A fresh wave of tears get released.

"I can't just leave you like this, Lou," He coddles me, sounding upset.

"Please." I beg him. He moves onto his back, and I feel horribly cold. I have two options. Curl in on myself and torture Harry, or leave. Leave.

I push up, unable to ground myself in this room. How embarrassing. Having a meltdown in Harry's room. After having wild shower sex with Harry. I swing my legs out, noticing I'm still naked. A small sob leaves my chest. I have never been so humiliated in my life. I spot the jumper from yesterday, throwing it on in haste to try and cover some part of me.

"Louis," Harry says, and I flinch. "I'm sorry he hurt you."

I look round at him, he's sat up with his chest bare, eyes full of sadness. I don't move.

"It's not your fault," I manage, rubbing my eyes.

"No one should ever feel like this, Lou," He says. "It's not okay, whatever he did."

"I'll get over it."

"That's not what I'm trying to say," Harry says. "Anyone would be lucky to have you, Louis, and one day it'll all be okay."

It shocks me to the core. Lucky to have me?

"I'm not desirable." I mumble, puzzled. "I mean, look at me."

"Are you joking?" He smiles a little. "You're telling that to me, Harry, who can barely keep his hands off you as it is."

"But my tattoos-,"

"Are sexy. Now, stop putting yourself down. That isn't sexy."

I smile a little. Prick.

"Sorry." I sniff.

"It's okay," He smiles. "Now, can I fuck you? Seeing you only in that jumper does things to me."

I smirk. Approaching the bed, I push him down and straddle him.

"Yes."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few days, all we do is fuck. All I'd have to do was walk in the room, and he'd be on me. Or in me. Our sexual appetite for each other was incredible to say the least. We did other things. I mean, he went out and did band things, and I saw Michael and I went to the gym a few times.

Saturday came round quicker than I thought it would. I could wait to see the lads and get a few drinks down me. I don't see Harry the whole day before I go to Michaels, and it's a bit weird considering it's the longest we'd gone without sex in about a week.

I won't ask him about it. That would be odd of me.

Pulling up to mine and Michaels place, I feel relaxed and happy. This place always reminded me of being happy. Michael was an incredibly easy person to hang around with, being kind and sincere. He's always been there for me, through thick and thin. I wouldn't replace him for anyone.

"Louis?" A voice calls and my head whips round. Stan?

"Stan?" I shout, excited. "Oh my God, Stan!"

It is him. He runs up a little and we meet halfway, hugging hard.

"Jesus, Lou," He laughs. "How long has it been?"

"Too long, lad. Too long."

I don't knock the door, and we push in. I hear the familiar sounds of guys laughing, the sounds of talking and bottles being clashed.

"Look no further," I shout as I enter the lounge, and everyone turns to look at us. "The Tommo, life of the party, is here. And look," I throw my arm around Stans neck, pulling him in and kissing him wetly on the cheek, to which he makes a face and tries to push me away. "Stan the fucking man."

The guys laugh, and I smirk. My eyes meet Harry's, and he smiles back. Zayn jumps up at my arrival, grabbing my hand to bring me in; a universal guy handshake. Stan gets dragged away by Michael who shouts out at seeing him.

"Hey, man," Zayn says, excited. "It's been a while." I really miss him.

"I know," I reply. "Want a cigarette?" He huffs.

"Of course."

I look over at Harry, deep in conversation with Niall. I don't have to tell him where I'm going, because we're not together. How great is that? I've never had this sort of arrangement before, and I should let you know I'm liking it.

We leave, exiting into the garden and Zayn turns to me.

"How did it go? Michael only told me a little." Zayn asks.

"Pretty well." I say, not hinting at anything, lighting my cigarette.

"I guess that means he fucked you." He laughs, lighting his and inhaling. I huff my smoke out in a laugh.

"He wanted me to be his fuck buddy," I tell him, and he chokes. "I know."

"Wow," He looks startled. "And how is that?"

"Do you really want to know?" I ask, cocking and eyebrow.

"Nope," He quickly says and I laugh. "What about if one of you fall in love?"

"I guess it ends," I shrug. "I won't let it get to that."

"But what if Harry does," He questions, grabbing my attention. "Will you reject him?"

I never thought about that. He wouldn't. This is too new for him.

"He's not gay," I reply. Zayn looks incredulously at me. "No, I mean not fully gay. He won't fall in love with me."

"You never know, mate."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We've had a few drinks, and we're having a good time and I'm a little tipsy. To be fair, I haven't spent much time with Harry all night, and we've kept our distance. No one would know how close we really are. How close he's been.

Looking over at him, I take in his usual gorgeous appearance. I still can't believe I get to have sex with him. He stands there talking and occasionally laughing with Liam and Michael, long hair swept away from his face in his usual style, wearing a floral shirt and tight black jeans.

"Louis?" Zayn calls, trying to get my attention, and Harry's gaze flicks to mine as I look back at Zayn, who looks amused. "Dude, I was talking to you for ages."

"I was listening." I reply, with a laugh.

"Okay, so what was I talking about?" He asks, and shit. He's got me.

"The meaning of life?"

"Fuck you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay. I'm a little drunk now.

"Louis," Liam calls, gaining my attention. We've been sitting on the sofas, just talking amongst ourselves. "Michael said you were a really good songwriter."

I scratch my head.

"If he says so." I reply, a little uncomfortable. Stan pushes my arm from beside me.

"Have you been telling everyone you're shit, Lou?" Stan asks, face filled with faux upset.

"Oh, come on," Niall says. "Show us."

"I haven't sung in ages, and I don't have a guitar." I reply.

"I have a guitar, and I think we all remember the last time you sang." Michael chirps in, and the guys laugh. Oh, yeah. The first night we met.

"I guess I don't have an excuse."

Michael looks shocked, thinking I would argue more. Well, I probably would sober. He runs away, and I sit waiting, contemplating about singing in front of 4 professional singers.

"I have no idea if it's in tune or not," Michael says, before dropping the guitar next to me. I pick up the guitar, strumming and wincing. "I take that as a no."

"No," I mumble, tuning it. I strum a few random notes, deciding it's okay. "I don't know what to play."

"Play that one I like," Michael slurs. "My favourite."

"Ready to Run?" I reply. It was a song I wrote for Jack, when he was kind. I guess I could.

I strum the opening, surprised I know it still. When I should sing I open my mouth, but the words won't come out.

"Hey," Zayn says, and I look up. Everyone's eyes are on me, including a very familiar pair of green ones. "It's just us."

I start again.

"There's a lightning in your eyes, I can't deny, then there's me inside a sinking boat running out of time. Without you I'll never make it out alive but I know, yes I know, we'll be alright," I sing, trying and succeeding to block everyone out of the room. "There's a devil in your smile, it's chasing me and every time I turn around it's only gaining speed. There's a moment when you finally realize there's no way you can change the rolling tide but I know, yes I know, that I'll be fine ."

I look over to Michael, smiling at me, and I smile back.

"This time I'm ready to run, Escape from the city and follow the sun. 'Cause I wanna be yours, don't you wanna be mine? I don't wanna get lost in the dark of the night. This time I'm ready to run. Wherever you are is the place I belong. 'Cause I wanna be free, and I wanna be young. I will never look back now I'm ready to run. I'm ready to run." Michael sings along, and I beam. I remember how much I love singing.

I look over at the guys, still playing. They all look a little shocked, especially Harry. I don't know if I should be offended.

"There's a future in my life I can't foresee. Unless, of course, I stay on course and keep you next to me." I sing, smiling at the guys. "There will always be the kind that criticize, but I know, yes, I know we'll be alright."

"This time I'm ready to run. Escape from the city and follow the sun. 'Cause I wanna be yours, don't you wanna be mine? I don't wanna get lost in the dark of the night. This time I'm ready to run. Wherever you are is the place I belong. 'Cause I wanna be free, and I wanna be young. I will never look back now I'm ready to run."

Gotta get ready for the high note. I close my eyes.

"This time I'm ready to run, I'd give everything that I got for your love." I sing loud, it's been a long time since I tried that note, and I'm glad I hit it.

"This time I'm ready to run. Escape from the city and follow the sun. 'Cause I wanna be yours, don't you wanna be mine? I don't wanna get lost in the dark of the night. This time I'm ready to run. Wherever you are is the place I belong. 'Cause I wanna be free, and I wanna be young. I will never look back, now I'm ready to run." I finish on a prolonged note, finishing to a quiet room.

Fuck.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Niall quips. "You wrote that?"

"I - yeah." I reply. The boys murmur to each other. Harry just sits and stares, eyes locked to my face.

"Wow," Zayn says. "That was really good."

"I told you he was good," Michael snaps. "Why does no one listen to me?"

"Because Louis tells everyone he can't sing." Zayn defends himself.

"Well, I for one want to hear more." Liam says, and the guys agree.

"Play that one you wrote at school about being young," Stan asks. "Well, the acoustic version."

"Live While We're Young?" I ask, and he nods. "Okay, only if you sing along."

"Hey boy I'm waiting on ya, I'm waiting on ya. Come on and let me sneak you out and have a celebration, a celebration. The music up, the windows down." I smile at Stan attempting to sing with me.

"Yeah, we'll be doing what we do. Just pretending that we're cool and we know it too." I sing and Stan quips with a 'know it too'. "Yeah, we'll keep doing what we do. Just pretending that we're cool, so tonight." I strum hard, and fall in love with this song all over again.

"Let's go crazy, crazy, crazy 'til we see the sun. I know we only met but let's pretend it's love and never, never, never stop for anyone. Tonight let's get some and live while we're young."

"Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh," Stan sings along with me. "And live while we're young. Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh. Tonight let's get some,"

"And live while we're young," I sing by myself. The guys are all smiling, except Harry. He looks so confused.

"Hey boy it's now or never, it's now or never. Don't overthink, just let it go and if we get together, yeah get together. Don't let the pictures leave your phone." I laugh at the lyrics.

"Yeah, we'll be doing what we do. Just pretending that we're cool, so tonight," I smirk at Michael trying to dance. He should just stop.

"Let's go crazy, crazy, crazy 'til we see the sun. I know we only met but let's pretend it's love and never, never, never stop for anyone. Tonight let's get some and live while we're young. Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, wanna live while we're young, Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh. Tonight let's get some, and live while we're young."

"And boy, you and I. We're about to make some memories tonight," I sing, God, what was I thinking when I wrote this song? "I wanna live while we're young, We wanna live while we're young."

I sing the chorus until the songs over, and I receive a round of applause.

"Seriously, Louis," Liam says. "Why you quit Uni is beyond me."

"His talent is beyond Uni, don't you think?" Niall defends.

"I guess so."

"What do you think, Harry?" Zayn asks Harry, and I want to kick him in the face. I know what he's doing.

"I - Yeah, amazing," He replies, dumbstruck. "I can't believe you think you can't sing."

He knows exactly why, and our eyes translate that message between us.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Absolutely drunk out of my head, I push into my room.

Hey, room! Long time, no see! I giggle to myself. I walk up to my collage photo of all my friends and grin up at them. I sure have had some good times. My eye catches on a photo of just me, smiling like an idiot into the camera, my arm around a headless character. Jack. Back when things were nice, and he was genuinely someone to love.

I decide here and now, I'm over Jack. The feeling leaves me, a weight lifted from my shoulders. He isn't somebody to want anymore. He certainly didn't think highly of me, the way he treated me was lower than an animal.

Here's to future love. Whoever that may be. I hope it's someone like Harry. He's a lovely guy, isn't he?

Fucking hell, if sober me had thought that, I would have been angry at myself.

"Louis?" A voice slurs. Talk of the Devil, and he shall appear. A large figure clumsily stumbles through the doorway, revealing Harry, red cheeked and messy haired. "Here you are."

He walks up to where I am, and looks up at the pictures, hands skimming a few in the attempt to closely.

"There are so many," His deep voice loud in the quiet room. "Who's that?"

"Derek," I smile. It was me and him down the pub. We were both wearing all green for St. Patrick's day 2010, his arm around my neck. I look so young.

"And this?" He points to another.

"That's me and my sister Lottie," I say. God, I miss her. It's us on Christmas Day both wearing silly elf costumes. It was a joke between the family.

"She's pretty," He observes, but moves to another picture quickly. "This one is torn."

"Yeah," I shrug. "It was me and Jack. We'd been together a year."

In the picture, my face is kissing what should have been Jacks cheek, standing in front of the Millenium Eye. My eyes closed, cheeks red from the cold and arms wrapped around his body.

"You look so happy." He says, looking up at me. I smile, sadly.

"I was."

"Do you realise he is not touching one part of your body, apart from his cheek?" He points out. Wow, he's right. The body language looks awful, even back when things were good. "I couldn't stand next to you in a picture like that. It would be weird."

God, he sounds drunk. He's making no sense.

"Play me another song, Louis," He smiles happily at me, elongated my name.

"Do I get to choose this time?" I laugh, picking up the guitar and moving across the room to sit on the bed.

"Yeah," He says flopping to lay down, but puts his finger up. "On the condition that it's an old song. I like old songs."

"Of course you do, hipster."

He pretends to look shocked, but fails laughing.

"Come on. Serenade me, Tommo." He says, and this time I laugh.

"Okay. This is an old one, you could use it when your sad or happy, but I'm using it because I'm happy." I say, and start to play 'I can't help falling in love with you'.

"It makes me feel all sorts of emotions, but it's definitely lovely," Harry slurs when I finish.

"Yeah."

"What music do you like? I mean, genre." He asks, laying sideways looking at me.

"I don't really know. I guess I prefer rock, but I love anything." I reply, laying back against the wall my bed is next to, and placing the guitar in front of us.

"Me, too," He smiles, rubbing his cheek into the covers. "This bed is comfortable, no wonder I fell asleep in it last time."

I chuckle, remembering when we first met and how I found him in my bed the next morning.

"I'm sorry you got forced into this with me," I say, watching as his eyebrows furrow. "Your management are not kind."

"I guess," He replies, licking his lips. "But I think it was good considering you helped me realise a part of myself I didn't know."

"The gay part?" I giggle. Okay, I'm giggling. Officially too drunk. Harry laughs regardless.

"The gay part."

I decide to lay back on the bed next to Harry but not touching, looking at the ceiling.

"I think I'm over Jack, you know," I say. "I've decided it's not worth it."

"Great," Harry says, sounding pleased. "It's about time. You don't need that negativity in your life, Lou, it drains you."

I huff sarcastically.

"It sure does," I roll over, looking at him. "Hey, do you have a nickname?"

He looks sideways at me, before rolling a little.

"Some people call me H, and some people call me Haz," He shrugs a little. "I dunno. I don't mind what people call me."

"I'll call you Hazza Bear, then," I laugh, and a rush of air leaves his mouth in amusement. "Because I've decided you should get a nickname."

"I'll think of a good one for you," He days, sitting in silence to contemplate. "What did your mum call you growing up?"

Instantly, my face fills with heat. That would be too embarrassing. He notices, rolling sideways to look at me, so I roll on my back to get away.

"Oh," He smirks. "This is good. Tell me."

"No."

"Oh, come on, I won't tell anyone."

"No, it's too embarrassing."

"Please?" He asks, far too sweetly for my liking.

"Boobear," I say, quietly, looking away. Harry leans in closer.

"I couldn't hear you."

"Boobear," I manage to say a little louder. He chuckles loudly.

"How cute!" He laughs, laying back on his back. "Okay so I'm Hazza Bear and your Boobear, we are both bears."

"If you say so," I chuckle, feeling a little better.

"You're the cute bear, and I'm the tall grumpy bear."

"What on earth are you going on about?"

"I don't know," He laughs, and then sighs. "I'm going to America for two weeks, by the way. For a promotion and awards."

"Yeah?" I reply. Something in my stomach sinks about not seeing Harry for an entire two weeks, but I can't let it show. "Whereabouts?"

"New York."

"Is it nice there?" I ask. I've never been. I wouldn't mind going, although it looked very busy.

"Yeah, it has great photo opportunities and lots of gigs."

"I'm going to my Mums next month for my birthday and Christmas."

"When's your birthday?"

"Christmas Eve."

"Seriously?" He looks at me. "You've got to be joking."

"Nope. I'm a Christmas Eve baby."

"How old will you be?"

"Do you not know how old I am now?" I question him, eyebrow raised.

"Uh, no. We have never discussed it. Do you know how old I am?"

"Actually, no."

"Exactly. How old will you be?"

"24."

"Really? Wow, that's old." He says. I can't be that much older than him. Come on.

"Fuck you. How old are you then, young master Styles?" I say, a little grumpily.

"21."

I let out a nervous laugh. I'd been fucking someone who was 21?

"How old did you think I was?" I ask, not looking at him.

"The same age as me," He says, looking at me. I can feel his eyes on me.

"Does it make you feel weird?"

"Make me feel weird? What does?"

"Fucking a nearly 24 year old."

"Nope." He slurs. "We're still young. If it makes you feel better, I turn 22 in February."

I roll to look at him.

"It doesn't bother me," I smile. "When do you leave for New York?"

"Monday."

Fuck, that's only in two days. I panic internally, praying that it doesn't show on my face. A flicker of an emotion shows on Harry's face, and I'm not sure what it was.

"Okay," I smile at him. "I guess I'll see you when you get back."

"Will you miss me?" He looks over at me, and I can't keep my eyes off of his. Of course I will, I want to say. What does he want me to tell him?

"Yeah," I smile a little. "Only a little bit, though." He laughs.

"I'll miss you, you prick."

Laying my head down on the bed, I can only hear mine and Harry's breaths mingling. It's almost a lullaby, watching him watching me.

"Goodnight, Hazzabear." I yawn, and push into the quilt.

"Night, Boobear." He whispers, and I fall asleep.