FOURTH ERA:

That evening I ended up staying at Harry's place for much longer than planned. After explaining the whole story behind him and Zayn, Liam was off to the gym, which left Harry and I crawling back to each other under the blanket.

While finally going back to watching the TV show we were there for in the first place, Harry started massaging my back—which soon (somehow) ended up in giving me a hand job. For some people it might have been peculiar, but for us, a situation where I was peacefully laying down between his legs it was completely normal for Harry's hand to automatically find its way down my pants.

Soon after that, I got a text.

NIALL: Elise is coming over tonight *heart-eyes emoji*

ME: Omg!!

ME: Does that mean you don't want me there? *winking emoji*

NIALL: Sorry, bud. You're gonna have to pass. Aren't you at Harry's anyway?

I could feel Harry peeking over my shoulder.

ME: I am. I was planning on staying the night anyway.

I felt Harry's arms tightening around me in the slightest.

NIALL: Wink wonk.

NIALL: Have you considered what I told you?

My heart sped up a little, causing me to slowly lower my phone in position so Harry couldn't see. Niall had been close to spoiling everything right then and there.

LOUIS: I'm taking it slow.

NIALL: ...

NIALL: That's not considering it! I told you, there are only two options. Leave him or take him.

LOUIS: I couldn't do it!! I promise I will take care of it soon.

NIALL: Okay. Just remember that you're taking advantage of him. It's not nice.

LOUIS: I know.

LOUIS: It won't continue.

That same night Harry and I had sex, which made it our third time in one day. Fast recap; In the morning I woke up at his place and realised we had forty minutes spare—we fucked. In the afternoon he came over to mine, mocked me for my bullet point list and made me horny by attacking me with tickles and kisses on the bed—we fucked. And late at night, I started biting his neck because I was—again—horny (and afraid I was going to lose the chance of him giving me cock whenever I needed it)—so we fucked again. Oh, and he gave me that hand job.

That was my Tuesday, ladies and gentlemen.

Can you guess what we did the morning after?

No. Weren't that filthy (Yes we were. But we didn't do it in the morning).

Although...

He sucked me off.

It was quite embarrassing. Apparently I woke Harry up because I had morning wood and my cock was poking into his tummy. He therefore shook me awake, whispered something in my ear before massaging his hands over my shaft. When small whimpers slipped from my lips, he quickly covered my mouth and informed me that Liam was still asleep in the dorm. In reaction, I pressed my lips together and kept my mouth shut as he crawled down under the blanket and gave me a quick blow job.

That day I was completely out of my mind during class and could not pay attention to one word anyone said. When the school day was over, I hurried to my dorm and sat down to study. There was so much schoolwork that I hadn't gotten through because I had been hanging out with Harry so much. Everything was hard to understand and I felt like dying while reading through the pages and not being able to grasp a single sentence.

That was when a knock was heard on the door, making me jump out of bed, sprint over and open up quickly.

Unsurprisingly, it was Harry.

What came as a surprise was the fact that he was holding a bouquet of roses in his hands. With a wild gaze I glared at them before staring bewilderedly into his green eyes.

"Flower delivery?"

Harry sighed while smiling. "I wanted to give them to you, silly."

I blinked, confused. "Um. Okay. Why?"

He rolled his eyes. "Do I have to explain myself?"

"Yes." I shrugged. "I don't see why you would give me flowers."

"Can I come inside?" he asked.

This was the moment I gazed into his eyes and felt my whole body react in a silent panic attack. Instantly, I was clammy all over my body and to my heart was speeding up inside my ribcage. My legs suddenly felt weak, as if they were begging for me to sit down, because otherwise they would fall (thankfully they didn't). My fingers nervously scratched the side of my neck as I was for some reason starting to feel itchy. What was this? An allergic reaction?

No—It was my reaction to the look in Harry's eyes.

"I—I don't think you should," was my answer. I could not let him come inside. I could not let him give me roses. I could not let him think I wanted all of this when I was clearly after something else. "I—uhh—I'm busy."

"No you're not." He could tell that I was lying. Hopelessly, he swung the bouquet in his hand, pointing it to the floor. "I just wanted—I just wanted to talk. Can we talk?"

I rubbed my eye, the anxiety attacking my body all at once. "I—I don't see why."

"Because I—I have some things to tell you."

After three minutes of persuasion, I finally let him come inside. We were sitting opposite to each other on the bed when he started speaking to me about something that happened to him during class the same day. While listening, I was constantly waiting and waiting for him to get to the point. I knew that this wasn't what he actually came over for. His had almost been tear-eyed back when he had stood in the doorframe.

"Yesterday was really nice," he finally breathed out, smiling to himself while fiddling his fingers over my sheets.

I already knew what he was referring to, but I decided to act dumb. "The sex?"

"No," Harry huffed. "That's always nice. I meant the talk. You said we needed to talk more and I agree. We should." He took my hand without looking me in the eye. "For the longest time, I've wanted to get to know you better and now I feel like I finally am."

This was a tricky scenario. Harry had no clue that I had been saying those things to cover up for not wanting to talk about calling it quits. He thought I was interested in getting to know him when in reality I just didn't want him to stop shagging me. It was all really simple, and he was just making it complicated.

Without even thinking it through, I chuckled nonchalantly and went, "Here's the thing. We're fuck buddies. We fuck, we fool around and in that moment I felt like talking, but that doesn't mean I want to get to know you. I don't see why that would be so important when we're just doing this for sex."

I noticed his hand slowly ceasing in mine. It was almost as if I could feel his skin turning cold. That was when my gaze flickered upward to observe his face. His eyebrows were creased, his lips shut tight and his eyes shooting daggers at me with every stare. Just like that, he let go of my hand and scolded at me like I had never seen him do before.

"That's how you're gonna act now?"

I frowned. "What?"

Harry scoffed. "You're so full of yourself. I can't even believe I'm hearing this."

"I'm full of myself?" I spat.

"Don't you dare tell me that I am." Harry's nostrils flared in rage. "You know pretty fucking well how I feel about you and I that you keep telling yourself that you're only doing this for the sex but I know for sure you're lying, because you lie to make yourself feel better!"

"What?!"

"Stop acting dumb! This isn't you! You're covering up because you're embarrassed and it's fucking pathetic!"

"Fuck's sake, can you calm down?!"

"You're a fucking moron!"

"Don't yell at me!"

"Don't tell me what to do! You've already done enough!"

"I haven't done anything!"

"You're doing it, Louis! You're breaking me!" His eyes teared up and I felt my heart stop for a second. "Your ego is so big that you can't even fucking see it!"

I stared back it him with a frown.

"Do you seriously not have anything to say?" he whined, shaking his head. "It's pathetic, Louis, it really is, and I'm sick of it, I'm so fucking sick of it!"

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I'm sick of stringing after you! I'm sick of waiting for you to let me in when I know you're far too conceited to actually do that! I'm sick of looking you in the eye, dreaming of so much more while knowing you won't ever express those feelings for me in return!" He was crying. Tears were running down his face. "I'm sick of you!"

Every emotion in my system was boiling up in my head. Out of momentary anger, I spat my words out.

"Then go! Take your shit and go!"

He blinked, as if he couldn't believe those words had just left me (just like myself)—and so he picked up his roses from the bed, stomped into the hallway, swung the door open and left me with a sentence that echoed in my head for the next miserable upcoming hours.

"I'm not coming back."

...