***Harry Styles***
Saturday, August 18th, 2012 – North London, England
By the time Liam and I got back from hanging out with Max, Zayn had already left the house and Louis was getting ready for bed. We’d stayed out pretty late – Max had decided he liked our waitress so he wanted to hang out and milk it as long as possible. He succeeded in getting her number by the end of the night.
“How was dinner?” Louis asked me as I climbed into his bed with him.
“Good,” I said. “Would’ve been more fun with you there, though.” He kissed me on the nose, which made me smile every time he did that. “How was it with Zayn?”
“It was really good,” he said. “I forgot how cool he is to hang out with.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, immediately feeling responsible for Louis and Zayn’s lack of one on one time.
“It’s not your fault,” Louis promised me. “I just figure if all three of them think you and I separate ourselves from the group, then maybe they have a point, even if we don’t mean to do it.”
“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing,” I said. “I missed you, but maybe tonight was a good first step in changing that.” Louis nodded in agreement.
“Harry,” he spoke after a moment’s silence.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“I love you,” he stated. I smiled. Louis had been making a huge effort to say that more often to me ever since we got back together, and it was music to my ears every time. Those were three words I would never get sick of hearing come out of his mouth.
“I love you, too,” I told him, and we drifted off to sleep.
Louis and I jerked awake around three in the morning to a loud clattering sound coming from the kitchen. We looked at each other, wondering if a crazy fan had broken in, and both of us got up and tiptoed downstairs to see what was going on. We breathed a sigh of relief when we saw that it was just Liam in the kitchen, but then we realized what was going on: there was an empty bottle of vodka on the counter and Liam was rummaging through our cabinets, looking for more. He found a new bottle just as we turned on the kitchen light – Louis and I had thought we’d cleared the house of alcohol before Liam came to stay with us, but apparently we’d missed a few.
“Liam, put it down,” Louis said, cautiously, as Liam began chugging the new bottle of vodka. He just shook his head. If Liam wasn’t bouncing off the walls, then he’d either already drank a lot and was already at the point of depression, or he had been in a really bad place when he started drinking. He had seemed fine at dinner.
Louis and I exchanged a look, and then Louis ran over to Liam and jumped on his back, distracting him, and I pried the bottle from Liam’s hands. I ran over to the sink and began dumping it down the drain as Liam escaped out of Louis’s grip and grabbed my arm, causing me to squirt vodka all over the counter.
“No!” he yelled at me.
“Liam!” Louis stepped between Liam and me and pushed Liam off of me. Liam stumbled backwards and Louis caught him just in time. I finished dumping the booze and turned around. Louis helped lower Liam to his knees, and Liam started to sob.
“It’s not fair!” Liam cried. Louis and I wrapped our arms around him.
“What’s not fair?” Louis coaxed.
“I hate it!” Liam exclaimed. “I hate it so much!”
“What do you hate?” I asked.
“I don’t understand!” Liam said.
“Don’t understand what?” Louis tried again.
“Everyone but me!” was all Liam was able to slur. Louis and I glanced at each other again, having no idea what Liam was talking about.
“Come on,” Louis said, and he and I helped Liam to his feet. He couldn’t walk on his own, so we put our arms around him and lead him into the living room, where we sat him on the couch. He teetered over right away, laying down, and closed his eyes, falling asleep just like that. I lifted his feet up onto the cushions and Louis placed a blanket over him, then he and I went to the sofa on the other side of the coffee table and sat down, watching in sadness as our friend slept.
“He was fine at dinner,” I told Louis. “He really was.”
“We’ve been trying to get him to quit cold turkey,” Louis told me. “We should’ve expected a relapse.”
“I’m sure me laying all my crap on him at dinner didn’t help much, either,” I muttered. Louis took my chin in his hand and turned me to face him.
“This is not your fault,” he told me. “You and Liam are allowed to be going through stuff at the same time. Being there for each other doesn’t mean your stuff goes away.” I just frowned. “Harry,” Louis continued. “Liam loves you. This has nothing to do with you. We’ll talk to him in the morning, okay?” I just nodded, still not completely convinced. I grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and covered Louis and I with it, then rested against his shoulder and the two of us fell into a restless sleep.

Notes

Poor Liam :-(