(A/N) howdy there folks, im not sure where this chapter is gonna go, but I'll just let it happen. Please enjoy this photo of Lima bean himself.  Also ik there's like no one reading this but i love you if you are reading this.
I love you, bitch.
(Sorry for calling you a bitch <3) also, it's still Lou's pov, so uh, yeah, im gonna write the chapter now........ Yeah
Sorry :/

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When I'm woken up by someone shaking me, I'm hoping it's Harry, but when an annoyingly familiar fatherly tone telling me to get my ass up, I'm disappointed.

Well, disappointed is an understatement.

"Liam, I'm attempting to sleep, if you couldn't tell." I snap at him, rolling over to bury my face into a pillow when I'm met with a wall.

Not an actual wall, since it groaned slightly when I hit it, and since it was warm and softened slightly and wrapped an arm around me. Harry was still in my bed.

Or was it his bed? I didn't remember. Obviously.

"I don't wanna get up, Boobear." Harry mumbled into my shirt, extending the 'r' in Boobear for the drama I suppose.

Harry is always so strange when he's tired.

"I'm not telling you to get up, Haz, that's all Liam. Speaking of which, if you could excuse us, please, so we can discuss something. That would be wonderful, Payno." I wrapped my arm around Harry's waist, pulling him slightly closer and tilting my neck so he could nuzzle into me, which he did almost immediately.

I heard Liam sigh, and walk around to other side of the bed and exit the room.

"Are you feeling better, boo?" Hazza asked softly, moving his head out from the crook of my neck to look up at me with gentle eyes. "I'm better now that we're alone, yeah." I laugh slightly as he looks down, avoiding my gaze.

"How about you, curly? Everything alright?" I try again to meet his gaze, but he just pulls away from me, laying  on his back as he stares at the ceiling.

I definitely didn't miss the warmth of his touch.

"I've been better," he starts softly "I feel sorta, um, you know," He sighs, I assume searching for the word to describe how he feels, but he comes up empty. "I dunno how I feel." He sits up and glances around the room.

"Do you wanna try and tell me?" I sit up slowly, finally taking in the state of the room.

Clothes that would've been tossed carelessly into a makeshift pile on a chair or the floor are folded into actual piles and placed onto the dresser, his suitcases are sat in the corner of the room, clearly trying to take up as little space as possible. The small closets door was slightly open, revealing suit pants and jackets that have been hung up. The room didn't seem like Harry's. He wasn't this organized.

After a short silence, I turn to him expectantly. He runs a hand over his face and takes a deep breath.

"I dunno, just, really fucking bad. Like, um, you know that one show after we were yelled at by Simon and Kate about being too touchy and not helping with the rumors about us and everything. One of our last performances, actually, I think. Where we were told not to go near eachother at all, until the end of the show. And when we hugged like we always do at the end of the show, we got in trouble even though you told me we couldn't hug for that long," he takes a breath, clearly worked up "and I wanted to never let you go, and I had to and it wasn't fair. It's not fair that they forced us apart. We could've been so much more, so much happier. They tore us apart and-" he stopped suddenly, running a hand over his face and then through his hair. I wrapped an arm around him and pulled him closer to me.

"I know." I sighed softly, I felt him shake slightly. I wrapped both my arms further around him and leaned my head on top of his.

"They tore us apart, Haz, you're right." I hear him sniffle quietly.

"Maybe you should take a shower, that might make you feel better? I don't know, it works for me." I suggest lightly, moving my head off of his to look down at him. He doesn't look back up at me.

I trace his jaw with my middle and pointer finger, moving him slightly so he meets my gaze. "Sun?"

"Only if you join me." He attempts to smirk at me, but his comment falls short.

"I'll probably have to pass on that one curly," I smile softly at him. "But I wouldn't mind doing that sometime." He lets out a small laugh, flashing his dimples, his eyes finally giving off their usual glimmer.

He got up and headed to the bathroom, closing the door and probably locking it.

I finally decide to move, glancing around the room some more. I look towards the window, the curtains looked similar to the ones I had in my old apartment with Harry. It was small moments like that, and waking up to him everyday, that made those times more worth it.

There's not too much light coming into the room, but enough that you can see the accents of the room. The random paintings every hotel has, to add character, probably. And the far too many pillows on each and every piece of furniture, because god forbid you don't have seven pillows on a chair for one person. How could you survive otherwise?

I made a mental note to complain about the amount of pillows a hotel has to Harry, see what he says about it. He'd probably just smile wide, look at me with that look and roll his beautiful eyes. I'd love to see those eyes right now.

Maybe I should've more seriously considered his offer.

When I get up from the bed I have to urge to knock on the bathroom door, maybe joke about joining him, but I can hear him singing something vaguely familiar through door and I wouldn't want to disturb him.

I pull the sheets up on the bed, and after about 15 seconds about adjusting the duvet, I'm left with a messy excuse of a made bed.

I walk to the dresser and fumble through the drawers, picking out a pair of underwear --briefs, since he's previously mention he prefers them over boxers-- and then find the first shirt I can get my hands on, along with a pair of black skinny jeans that I'm slightly surprised he even owns at this point.

I take the already folded clothes and place them onto the "freshly made bed" in a short pile, and head out into the noisy kitchen.

"Speak of the devil, Tommo! How'd you sleep mate?" An Irish accent fills the room. I silently thank God it wasn't Liam who was talking, but only because I don't know how much of him I can deal with right now.

Don't get me wrong, Liam isn't usually a handful. We've stayed good mates since One Direction ended, but right now I'm still a little mad at him for waking up me and Harry like that. Though I do realise that it might be 12 pm currently, and maybe he just didn't want us to be asleep for the other half of the day, but still.

He woke the Tommo.

No one wakes the Tommo.

Except the Tommo, and maybe his Hazza.

But it's not just that Liam woke me up when he knows he shouldn't. But he knows. He knows that if you wake the Tommo there are consequences, which is why Harry would always be sent to wake me up on our tours and when we lived together.

Harry was almost always awake before me, same with the other boys, except Zayn and Niall on occasion, but 9 times out of 10, I would be the last one to wake.

I remember moments when I wasn't very fond of Harry because he woke me up early, but I also remember how gentle and quiet he was. And how when I finally decided to get up he'd already have a cup of tea made for me, or some sort of breakfast, and if not then a hug would suffice. His big gentle hands and low voice were a nice thing to wake up to, it was just comfortable.

I was always angry, but I was comfortably angry.

If that makes sense.

But I turned my attention to the kitchen, where Zayn had taken a seat at the kitchen island, his phone next to him and his empty plate in front of him. Niall, is sat in the small living area with a bowl of crisps in front of the TV, watching golf. Golf. At 11 am. Then there was Liam. Liam, who is sat at the kitchen table, eating avocado toast and eggs.

Avocados?? In my house???

Who does he think he is???

It's official, the band is not staying together after this.

"I slept fine, until some cunt decided to wake me up. Thanks again for that Li."I shot him a small glare, and he laughed.

"No probably Loubear, anytime." He shoots back, mouth full of his fuckin avocado toast, which I may or may not contemplate tearing from him and throwing into the trash.

As I start making my tea, I hear a few mumbles from the boys, which the golf channel successfully drowns out, until a fit of laughter erupts in the dining area.

"What's so funny?" I glance at the boys, Zayn's face is tinted red, his mouth shut firmly, how he looks when he's trying his hardest not to laugh. Niall is just, laughing hysterically. Liam, who seems to have made whatever joke their laughing at, looks very proud of himself, smugly smirking at me, and then glancing to the hallway.

"Jus' suppose you two got allow well last night, since, well-" Liam breaks out laughing, stopping midsentence and glancing to the other boys who seem to find this as funny as he does, "you just seem pretty far up your arse, so I'm thinking Harry was too-"

"Liam!" Niall shouts, laughing.

Zayn finally looks up at Louis, and it's the happiest he's looked with the boys in ages. So Louis' glare softens a bit.

"I'm sorry mate." He barely even says it, cut off by his and Niall's obnoxious fits of laughter.

"I'll be packing my stuff, thanks." I pick up my cup and head back off to my room.

When I enter, Harry is already half dressed, pulling his shirt over his head, which is now slightly wet from his dripping curls.

"I hate them, I'm leaving." I set down my cup on the night table and flop onto the bed dramatically, placing the back of my hand to my forehead and posing slightly. "I can't stand them. I simply cannot stay, my darling, I shall move on to better things. Remember me, my Harry, remember the good of me. Remember-"

"Someone on Twitter said I have blowjob lips." Harry interrupts, gaze fixated on the wall.

"What?"

"They said I have blowjob lips."

I sit up, looking over at Harry, who is now looking intently at his hands.

"Why are you telling me this?" I query, I'm slightly concerned at this point.

"I don't know, I just wanted you to stop talking. And possibly to get your opinion, maybe." He walks over to the chair where he had slung his towel over the side of, grabbing it and beginning to dry his hair.

"I mean, what does that even mean? Blowjob lips? And how would my opinion help this, I mean, yeah you sorta have blowjob lips but I -uh- I don't think that should mean anything."

Shit, okay, I ranted. I panicked, because I'm not sure if he remembers or-

"So that time I sucked you off," he remembers oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit- "when we were both pretty drunk, you'd agree that I have blowjob lips." He looks at me, smirking smugly.

I'm guessing it's obvious that I didn't want him to mention that

"Uh, sure yeah."

Clear your throat, drink tea, act casual, okay?

Yeah sure, Harry remembers one of the times he gave me a blowjob, and he casually brought it up, so I can casually respond and then quickly change the subject.

Casually, obviously.

"Do you remember it at all? I know that might be strange to ask, but I just want to know that you weren't completely-out-of-your-mind-drunk and that I didn't take advantage of you or anything-" his gaze shifts from me to the floor.

"No, no, you didn't. Not at all, Haz, you would never. And I guess I remember most of it." Still contemplating how to change the subject, but also convince Harry that he didn't do anything wrong, since yeah I remember most of what happened, but not everything obviously.

I was drunk, that's the whole point.

I was drunk and I asked my best friend-who was also the guy I lived with, and would have to face and interact with for another three years- to give me a blowjob. So what?

"What do you remember?" His voice is small, slightly fragile, saddening.

"Well, I remember when I asked the first time you thought I was joking, and you laughed really loud," he smiled a bit- possibly recalling the events as well, "and when you realised I was serious, you almost tried to take me home, like, I know you thought about it for maybe five minutes," he let out a short laugh, but it seemed sorta forced, like he was too focused on his own thoughts to actually acknowledge it, "I remember walking with you to the bathroom, and locking the door and you asking me if I was sure for the billionth time, I remember it, a little bit of it at least. I remember when someone tried to come in, and you got all scared and stopped and said 'uh, I'm in here' after clearing your throat like six times." I look up at Harry, who finally meets my gaze, eyes slightly wide.

"To be fair, about a minute before that I had your dick in my mouth, so." He laughed, a real laugh this time. It was calming.

"I guess I remember quite a bit don't I?" I take another sip of my tea, it's still just barely too hot.

"Do you remember what happened after?" He sat next to me, and picked at his jeans which had suddenly taken his interest. "I only remember a little bit of it, so I wanna piece it together if you remember it too."

I shook my head slightly, "Not really, I'm sorry." I heard him sigh. "What do you remember?"

He stills, seeming to completely freeze, "uh, well-"

The door is flung open to reveal Niall, who runs in and locks the door behind him, before screaming "He's gonna kill me!!! Liam, Liam is going to kill me!" He ran to the bed, diving behind me and Harry.

Yep, its definitely official, the band is not staying together.

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Cool, I think that's where imma end that chappy since I wanna update even though no one cares anyways

Love ya, or something like that

It's June 28th!!!!

Nothing happened today, that I know of, but it's June 28th, so, celebrate or smth.

[Update: it is no longer June 28th]

Again, I love you, sorry that this is sorta a long authors note, but it's all true.

bye bye babes :))) <3
-the person who just found out that walking in the wind might be about Zayn calling Harry at 2 am and saying he's leaving the band and may have cried about that for a bit