"Louis I think you had too much to drink," Harry tells me, throwing an arm over my shoulders to support me.
"It's Christmas, I'm allowed to get drunk," I slur. I start laughing uncontrollably and Harry shifts to let me fall into him.
"We're going back to the room," Harry says, starting down the hall slowly. I drag my feet but it feels like there are weights tied to them and each step is a chore.
We plod down the hallway like that until we reach the room. "Louis I'm going to let you go now," Harry says gently. "I have to get the room key." He removes his arm from its resting place on my shoulder and slides the room key out of his pocket before opening the door and ushering me inside quickly.
I lay down on the floor. "Goodnight," I say. Harry bends down.
"Louis, the bed is like twenty feet away. Come on," he replies. When I show no intention of moving from the floor, Harry groans and picks me up like I weigh ten pounds. He carries me to the bed then sets me down.
"You're such a good person," I comment, laughing. Harry smiles and lays down on the bed next to me.
"I know," he says, then pauses. "Get some sleep, Drunky. You'll have a hangover tomorrow, that's for sure."
I close my eyes and don't open them again until a few hours later. Harry is passed out beside me and I feel restless, like if I don't walk around for a while I might scream.
I decide to walk around the hotel, then come back and get back in bed before Harry wakes up. I walk out into the hall and turn to the right. I don't know where I'm going, I barely remember what happened tonight let alone the floor plan of this hotel.
All I remember is that Harry and I went to a bar and I had a lot of drinks. Maybe too many. The halls are deserted and I'm not worried about anyone seeing me. I'm probably the only one roaming the hotel at this time.
"Who's there?" a startled voice calls out when I turn another corner.
I jump back a bit, taken by surprise, but then I see a figure materialize from the shadows and I'm not worried anymore. The guy looks to be about my age, maybe a little younger, and he looks tired and worn out.
"I'm Louis," I blurt out. The alcohol must be causing me to lose my ability to think straight. Why would I say that? I don't even know who this person is.
"I'm Chad," the guy replies. "Nice to meet you."
"Likewise," I respond. Chad takes a step forward and squints at me.
"You're really attractive, you know that?" he asks, smirking a little. I raise my eyebrows, caught off guard, but Chad's flirtatious tone triggers something in me.
"You're not too bad looking yourself," I reply, winking.
That's all Chad needs. He closes the gap between us and presses me up against the wall before kissing me. I kiss him back right away. Thoughts of Harry fly from my head, only leaving room for thinking about Chad.
He really isn't that bad looking, with shaggy blond hair and a nice smile. He's not the hottest guy I've ever seen but I'm desperate for someone to kiss and if Chad is willing to kiss me then so be it.
We break apart when we hear footsteps round the corner. I turn and see Harry looking equal parts furious, jealous, and sad.
"Louis?" he asks, his voice cracking.
"Oh, shit," Chad says, backing away. "You have a boyfriend?"
He turns and leaves, the traitor. I don't want to be alone with Harry right this instant. Even in the dim hotel lighting I can see in Harry's eyes that's he's incredibly angry.
"Why?" he asks. I start to apologize, but he stops me. "Just answer me this: Why?"
I open and close my mouth several times before replying, "I don't know, Harry. I just...he kissed me and I kissed him back."
"Don't put all the blame on him," Harry retorts. "You were kissing him back!"
"But I didn't initiate it," I whine, knowing I sound like a three-year-old.
"It doesn't matter!" Harry says in exasperation, throwing his hands up in the air. "I can list the things you could have done or said instead of kissing him back. You could have said no. You could have told him you have a boyfriend. You could have pushed him away. You could have said you weren't interested. But you didn't do any of those things!"
I stare down at the ground meekly. "Sorry," I say softly.
"Sorry? You're sorry?" Harry asks incredulously. "You know what Louis? I'm sorry too."
He pivots and starts to go back to the room. I trot after him all the while saying, "No, Harry please! It didn't mean anything! I love you!" He doesn't listen.
When we're back in the room, he starts throwing his things into his suitcase. "I'm leaving first thing tomorrow," he informs me. "When you wake up, I'll be gone."
His words make me sick to my stomach. He can't leave. I love him.
I try one last time to persuade him to stay, but he's not having it. "This was supposed to be a fun vacation," Harry says. "And it was, for a while. But this- this is too much. I'm going back to America."
Without thinking, I smash my lips against his urgently. Even though he's mad at me, Harry still kisses me back. I begin to cry and I think Harry does too. Our tears mix until you can't tell who's tears are who's and we pull away, out of breath and flustered.
"I'm sorry," I repeat, hoping that if I say it multiple times he'll believe me.
Harry just shakes his head and grabs a blanket from off of the bed. "I'll be on the couch if you need me," he tells me gruffly and flops down.
I lay down on the bed and sigh heavily. Harry's so close, but the distance between us is suddenly unbearable. Even in the four years that we were apart, I've never felt this lonely. I curl up to try and create the warmth that Harry usually provides.
The guilt churns in my stomach, making me want to throw up. Maybe this is just a dream. When I wake up, Harry will be right next to me giving me Advil for my hangover and watching dumb movies with me until noon.
Maybe when I wake up, everything will be how it should be.