A/N: This chapter is dedicated to @larryslittlest for loving Larry as much as I do!

On a scheduling note, the next two weeks I'll be posting on either Wednesday or Thursday because of the holidays.

Just a reminder, this chapter and the rest of the chapters going forward are all set in the present.

Disclaimer: strong sexual content.

Song lyrics are not mine.

Dear Harry,

I've decided to call off the wedding. I don't see how we can go through with it now that we both know you still have feelings for Kitty. I want you to know that I didn't make this decision hastily. I've been feeling that something was not quite right between us for some time. You've been distant the past few weeks and you haven't touched me since the stag and doe...

I'm staying with friends. Don't contact me.

Darby

LOUIS

Zayn and I pulled up outside Harry's flat. The press was everywhere. I didn't think we'd make it to the door. There was a security guard talking to a group of cops by the entrance. They recognized us immediately and let us up.

I was not prepared to see Harry in such a state. His eyes were red a swollen and his hair messily tied back. Even his dog looked miserable, lying on the ground with his head between his paws.

Harry was alone. His father had been there to check in on him earlier but went back to his hotel, and his mother and sister wouldn't fly in until the next morning.

I couldn't tell if he was happy to see me or not. Zayn went into the other room to call Liam and ask if he had gotten in touch with Sarah yet.

I unzipped my light jacket and hung it in the closet next to Darby's chiffon wedding dress. Standing in my t-shirt and adidas track pants I was still hot. If they had air-conditioning, it wasn't turned on—probably one of Darby's energy saving measures.

Harry had my jeans on from the night before and they still looked impossibly tight. His shirt was wrinkled and tear-stained. He moved toward me and I thought he was about to walk right past, but instead he fell into my arms, buried his head on my shoulder and cried.

"I'm so sorry, love."

He wiped his cheek with his forearm. "No, you're not."

"Don't say that! Of course I am."

"Just hold me."

I knew when to shut up. I folded my arms around him and held him even tighter. His body went limp. He was so trusting and vulnerable. It was frighteningly easy to fall in love with him. Not that I had ever fallen out of love with him.

"Have you talked to her?" I asked tentatively.

"No, but it doesn't matter, she won't believe me."

"Yes she will."

"You didn't."

Zayn came out of the bedroom. He shook his head. "Liam thinks she's probably with Sarah but he doesn't know for sure. She's still not picking up. I'm sorry Harry. It doesn't look like anyone's getting a hold of her tonight."

Try not to smile, I said to myself, try not to smile. You're sad that Darby's gone. You're sad, Goddammit!

Harry rubbed his eyes. "I just don't understand how those pictures got leaked. Baron couldn't have done this alone. Why is this happening to me? It's a nightmare!"

Zayn languidly stretched his arms around Harry's shoulders. "This'll get sorted. She just needs some time, I reckon. You guys are the strongest couple I know." He got another call on his phone. "Hold up."

I opened my arms, ready to do some more consoling but Harry moved over to the couch and put his head in his hands.

"I'm sorry for everything," I said. "I shouldn't have thrown you that party."

"It's not your fault. Well, the party kind of was but you couldn't have known what would happen."

I sat on the teak coffee table across from him. "I'm sorry for the way I've acted since I got here. I should have been more respectful."

Harry reached out and put his warm hand on my knee.

Zayn ran out of the bedroom again.

What does it take to get a little privacy around here!

"Good news. Darby is staying with Sarah. And Sarah thinks one of us should come over and talk to her."

"Sarah believes me?" Harry's eyes shone.

"Yeah, she's been trying to convince Darby with no luck. She's too angry..."

His hand fell from my knee and he stood up. "I should go over there."

"No, bro," said Zayn. "Sarah said one of us should do it, since Darby is still a bit sore about the whole thing. Liam and Sophia are heading over too but they're stuck in traffic and Niall's watching the twins. They asked me to go. Louis, uh, you should probably wait here since she's not exactly your biggest fan. No offence."

"None taken," I chirped. "I'll stay here with Harry and keep him company."

Zayn did a double take to make sure I didn't have anything up my sleeve. I raised my eyebrows innocently and tried not to look like the fox in the henhouse.

"You'll be alright, Harry?"

"I'll be fine. Just... tell her how much I love her."

Zayn stroked Harry's cheek. "I'll do my best."

He put his sunglasses on and his hoodie up. A driver was waiting for him at the back of the building.

When the door clicked behind him my heart skipped. I couldn't remember the last time Harry and I were completely alone like this. Who knew when Zayn would be back? The hours stretched out before me like a horizon of infinite possibility.

"What should we do?" I asked. "Do you want to show me around?"

"Not much to see." We stood up and he pointed to the kitchen and told me about the granite countertops and penny tile backsplash and other ghastly American kitchen accouterment. He showed me Darby's workspace and here I really felt like I was in enemy territory.

"These articles and notes are all about the band."

"It's for the reunion piece she's working on."

I picked up a photo of me, stone-faced, leaving my hotel the morning after the split.

There were tons of photographs and every major profile from the last five years pinned to a corkboard.

"I know she's a journalist but I thought she'd want to protect you from this sort of thing."

"I can take care of myself."

That stung. It wasn't that I thought he was helpless. I just loved him so much that the thought of any harm coming to him at all was physically painful. Was I being overbearing?

"I know you can," I said softly.

He then took me on a mind numbing tour of Darby's record collection and bookshelf. I had to admit she had good taste, but the ceaseless cataloging of every writer and musician irked me. Harry used to organize his books and records by color. It made no sense but it was bloody adorable.

"Darby says it's easier to find things if they're arranged alphabetically."

"I like your way better," I sniffed.

"I'd show you the bedroom, but it's small and kind of messy. Nothing to see, really. If you don't mind I'd like to take a shower."

"Of course, sweetheart! Go ahead. I'll make us a cuppa tea."

Well, wasn't this delightfully domestic! I went through the cupboards to try to find something suitable but it was mostly herbal tea and some nasty smelling liquid called Kombucha. I settled on orange pekoe. I put on the kettle on and found two cups. They didn't have a set but rather a bunch of mismatched teacups and novelty mugs that Darby must have picked up at a yard sale. Would it kill her to get a proper tea set? She was living with an Englishman for heaven's sake!

I heard the shower running and I glanced at the bathroom door wistfully. What I wouldn't give to be in there with him now...

My phone rang. I worried for a moment that it might be work but it was just Liam. I answered. "Louis' phone. Louis speaking."

"How's Harry?"

"Harold is just fine. He's taking a shower."

"Look, it was Zayn's idea to leave you alone with him. Not mine. I need to know that you're not taking advantage of the situation..."

I dropped a teabag into each cup and poured the boiling water. "I am shocked and offended at what you're implying, Liam."

"His fiancée just left him. He's very fragile."

"We're having tea and watching telly." I picked up the remote and flipped to BBC America. "Oooooh Strictly Come Dancing."

"I'm serious Louis. No more 'last kisses' or 'last handjobs' or 'last' anything. Promise?"

"I promise... Any luck with Darby?"

"We're at Sarah's but Darby won't talk to us."

"Pity. Oh well, I guess the wedding's off, at least you tried--"

"We're going to keep trying! Take care of Harry."

"I always do."

I hung up and stirred milk and sugar into each of our cups. I noticed a note on the counter. It was Darby's breakup letter: "...you haven't touched me since the stag and doe..." That was the night I arrived. I took a sip of tea and smiled wickedly to myself.

Harry still hadn't come out of the washroom, so I decided to go exploring. I tiptoed down the hall and into his bedroom. He was right. It was small and messy. Like the rest of the flat the walls were exposed brick. They had an old rotary phone on the nightstand and an empty birdcage swayed by the window. The bed was unmade and the floor was covered in dirty laundry, her underwear mixed with his. There were bras hanging from the mirror and spilling out of drawers, a giant box of tampons on the dresser, and unicorn figurines staring at me from virtually every direction.

So, this is what hell looks like, I thought to myself.

I noticed a guitar standing in the corner next to a red leather-bound journal.

"What are you doing in here?" Harry was dressed in a fresh pair of jeans and his old Packers t-shirt, toweling his hair.

I pointed to the journal. "Have you been writing?"

"No." He leapt over the bed, grabbed the journal and tossed it in the closet.

Note to self: Read Harry's journal at all costs.

I strolled over to him, examining a glass unicorn on the nightstand.

"Darby has... interesting taste."

"She's collected them since she was a little girl. We're still looking for a place to put them all."

"Surely not the bedroom," I said under my breath.

Harry picked up some of her clothes off the ground, folded them neatly and placed them on the tall antique dresser. When he turned around I immediately took my chance and dove into the closet kamikaze-style to get the journal.

"Louis, what the fuck, that's private!"

Harry grabbed the back of my shirt and I face-planted on the bed. He was sitting on my legs trying to wrestle the journal out of my arms, but I was too quick. I rolled out from under him, scurried over to the corner of the room and read it hungrily before he could snatch it back.

I didn't know what I was expecting to find in there. Maybe some bluesy rock songs about all the creepy straight sex he was having. It wasn't that at all. They were ballads mostly and they weren't about Darby. I kept flipping, scanning for a female pronoun in there somewhere, but there wasn't one. Instead, I found lyrics like this:

I want to build you a boat
One as strong as you are free
So any time you think that your heart is gonna sink
You know it won't
I want to build you a boat

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Don't." He was panting, his face bright red, his eyes watering. He rolled down his sleeve to cover his ship tattoo, while I stroked my compass fondly.

I had to keep reading just to be sure.

"This is about us."

"No, it's not!"

"Can you play it for me?"

"Absolutely not."

I picked up the guitar and put it in his hands. "Just the melody, something, anything."

"This is stupid. I'm not a good songwriter."

"Don't put yourself down."

Reluctantly, I let him take the journal from my hands. I wanted to hold onto those words forever but I wanted to hear him sing them even more.

"You don't get to hear what I'm working on, Louis. You don't get to come back into my life whenever you feel like it and make me..."

"Make you what?"

I stood up and joined him by the dresser. I could smell Darby's perfume. It was in the citrus family, crisp and clean. It seemed at odds with Harry's rich florals.

"You don't get to come back and make me weak." He lowered his head and a tendril fell in his eye. He was angry but I wasn't sure if he was mad at me or at himself. "Why don't you play me something instead," he said, trying to pass back the guitar.

"I haven't written a word since you left, Harry." We both glanced at his cluttered journal, filled to the brim with songs and ideas. "I see you've had the opposite problem. Funny that. I guess I'm the weak one."

Harry squeezed my hand with compassion. "Louis, you love to write."

I squeezed back. "That part of me is gone."

"No!"

"You're the writer now."

Harry looked unconvinced.

"Play me something."

He sat cross-legged on the ground with the guitar in his lap and bravely opened his journal. I sat on the bed above him and leaned forward.

The cords were simple but he played them with tenderness. He was trying so hard it was darling, but I was careful not to breathe a word in case he thought I was being patronizing.

I want to write you a song
One as beautiful as you are sweet
With just a hint of pain
For the feeling that I get when you are gone
I want to write you a song

He stopped abruptly. "I hate it. It doesn't sound right."

I crawled onto the floor next to him, tossing one of Darby's bras clear across the room.

"Play it again."

I nestled beside him, looking at the lyrics over his shoulder. He wasn't a skilled guitar player so I corrected his fingering and tempo. He let my hands guide him and I lingered longer than was necessary. I started to sing along, changing the arrangement slightly, and harmonizing the way we used to. A rhythm between us so familiar it felt like breathing.

When the song was over, he was pleased yet baffled, like I'd pointed out something that had been in front of him the whole time.

"This was really helpful, Louis, thank you."

I wasn't done with our lesson just yet.

"Sing the chorus again for me."

Oooh, everything I need I get from you
Oooh, givin' back is all I wanna do

"Good." I leaned in and rewarded him softly with a kiss. When I drew back his eyes were still closed.

"Keep singing," I instructed.

He blinked and snapped out of the daze he was in.

I want to write you a song
One to make your heart remember me

I tucked damp curl behind his ear and kissed him again, this time dipping my tongue into his mouth. He kissed back and I pulled away.

"Go on. Sing the rest."

Harry's face flushed, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

So any time I'm gone
You can listen to my voice and sing along
I want to write you a song

This time Harry ended the verse and looked at my mouth expectantly.

"It's lovely, Harry," I praised. "Let's hear another one."

Harry flipped shakily to the next page. "Um, this is one I wrote a few days ago."

If I could fly, I'd be coming right back home to you
I think I might give up everything, just ask me to

Pay attention, I hope that you listen cause I let my guard down
Right now I'm completely defenseless...

I didn't say anything.

"You don't like it?"

He waited for my response but I had none so he launched into the chorus.

For your eyes only, I show you my heart
For when you're lonely and forget who you are
I'm missing half of me when we're apart...

"Louis? Louis?" He put down the guitar and crawled over to me.

I brushed away a tear and pulled him up onto his knees until our hips met. "I love it," I gasped, kissing his forehead, his cheeks, his dark eyelashes, holding him so tight I thought he might break. I never wanted to let him go. "It's so beautiful, Harry. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard."

"It's for you," he whispered. "It's all for you."

I cupped his face.

This time Harry didn't wait for me to kiss him.

Kissing Harry was delicious, but being kissed by Harry, having those wet pillowy lips move with purpose over mine, was all-consuming. A kiss with anyone else just felt like kissing, but with Harry a kiss felt like sex, and sex with Harry felt like... there was no word for it.

His skin was still hot from the shower and radiated through his worn t-shirt. I ran my hands over his arms, his chest, his back. Everything about him was so fucking sexy I could be declared legally insane when we touched. His constant moaning didn't help. He bit my lip and I lost myself for a moment, absentmindedly slipping a hand down the back of his pants. His eyes flew open and I quickly pulled my hand back out. We continued kissing and I felt Harry harden against my thigh, thrusting with abandon as his fingers curled with pleasure at the nape of my neck. He was completely uninhibited, open and loving. I needed more of him. All of him. My hands dove down the back of his pants again, sliding between his cheeks and spreading them apart until my fingers found his tiny, smooth rim. Harry's lips stopped moving. He reached behind himself and yanked my hand out.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," I stammered. "I won't do it again."

Harry locked eyes with me.

"Please, Harry, I'm sorry," I begged.

He drew my hand up to his mouth.

"What are you—?"

He then proceeded suck my fingers in the most obscene way imaginable.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Harry." I shoved them in deeper. I couldn't help myself. "You have the prettiest mouth," I rambled. "So fucking filthy and gorgeous."

He unbuttoned his pants but didn't take them off. He was still a bit shy around me. It was so cute my heart hurt. I fell on my heels in awe of him. He pushed me flat onto my back and climbed on top of me.

Harry kissed me more fervently now, his hands on either side of me, with half his weight on my body. I slipped my soaked fingers inside his boxers where I quickly found his rim and massaged it until he was nice and wet.

Liam was going to kill me.

Harry took a breath, indicating that he was ready and carefully I breached his rim with the tip of my index finger. I moved it inside him a little further and felt him clench around it.

He was so tight I was sweating—more turned on than I'd ever been but terrified that he wasn't enjoying it as much as I was.

"Do you like it?"

Harry shut his eyes and licked his lips. "More," he said finally, his wet lips pressed against my ear.

"No, love," I said, incredulous, already out of breath. "You're too tight. I don't want to hurt you."

"Deeper then."

Deeper.

I moved my finger in a bit more, relishing the way his silky hole stretched around it.

Harry buried his face in my neck to muffle a cry.

"Has anyone else had you this way since we were together?" I asked gently.

"You're the only one who's ever had me this way, Louis."

In that moment I lost whatever was left of my sanity. I knew then that I was gone for this green-eyed boy and I would never recover. He had complete control over me. He owned me. I would do anything Harry asked of me for the rest of my life.

I kissed him madly, lost in my own lust, and pushed my finger inside him as deep as I could.

Harry let out a strangled cry that ripped right through me.

"Baby, are you alright? Do you want me to stop?" We weren't using lube and he hadn't done this in ages. It couldn't have been entirely comfortable. I was worried he was in more pain than he was letting on.

"No! Please don't stop, I want you inside me."

I held him tight against my chest and kissed his curly head.

Once his breathing evened, I twisted my finger inside him, my knuckle bumping up against his rim. Harry was grinding on my thigh and coating my neck with feverish kisses.

As he hitched a leg over mine to spread himself open for me, his knee brushed up against my painful hard-on.

"Louis," he fussed, "Can I do something for you?"

"It's fine," I said, hushing him. "I want to make you feel good."

Harry ignored me. He tucked his hand between us and proceeded to unbutton my pants. I didn't know if I could control myself if he touched me, so I swatted his hand away.

"We're focusing on you now, yeah?"

His large soft hand dipped into my pants. He was so determined! I eyed him with interest. He wrapped his hand around my c0ck and stroked my tip, which was swollen and slick with precum. I arched my back and moaned. His touch was electric.

"You see what you do to me?" I said wrapping my hand firmly around his.

He nodded.

"You like making me hard?"

"Yes," he admitted quietly, just above a whisper.

My finger curled inside him and he bucked against my hand, moving into his own pleasure. He sort of aimlessly rubbed my c0ck and even though he was he wasn't really paying attention it was the best handjob I'd ever had.

I began to move my finger in and out of him as gently as I could. Harry sighed and removed his hand from my c0ck, resting it on my belly instead. It was fine. I didn't care if I got off. I just wanted to be with him. I continued to pump my finger in and out, trying hopelessly not to think about what it might be like to fuck him right now.

Harry picked up my c0ck again and started to stroke me, fast and tight, before stopping abruptly and staring fondly into my eyes.

"Quit teasing me!" I laughed weakly.

He licked the corner of my mouth. "Or what?"

"Or..." I don't know! I wasn't in any condition to make witty comebacks!

He picked up my c0ck a third time, stroking me agonizingly slow, starting and stopping at a maddening pace.

I added another finger inside him and he collapsed into a whimpering mess on my chest.

"Is this what you want?" I said sternly. "Are you going to be good now?"

His soft hand glided lazily along my shaft. "You know what I want."

Oh God. I was supposed to be looking after him! Having tea and watching telly! I was not supposed to be fingering him and I definitely was not supposed to be fucking him!

"Harry, no. You don't know what you want."

"You want me, I know that."

Of course I did. He was all I fucking wanted. But not like this, not in this room, not surrounded by things that belonged to her. I didn't want him to have sex with me because he was sad and lonely and confused. I wanted him to give himself to me completely. I wanted all of him. Not just his body.

I pushed my two fingers deep inside him. His eyes widened and his mouth hung open. I watched that sinful look spread across his angelic face with longing. Oh, how I ached for him!

"Do you still love me," I cried.

"Louis," Harry moaned, rocking back against my fingers.

"I need to know."

"I—"

Then we heard it, a click at the front door.

"Shit, shit, shit. What was that?" he said.

"It must be Zayn," I said as we painfully untangled from each other.

Harry did up his pants and sat upright, while I rolled around on the ground thinking I might die from sexual agony.

I was right, it was Zayn and Liam, but they weren't alone, they brought Darby back with them.

She wore no makeup and her face was puffy, like she'd been crying for hours. She looked really terrible, and I'm not just saying that because I hate her.

Zayn looked us both up and down and mouthed, "What the fuck."

Harry's curls were wild and his cheeks and mouth bright red. He looked completely wrecked.

"What are you two doing in here?" she said.

We were speechless for a moment eyeing each other guiltily. Then Harry pointed to the guitar. "I was playing him my new stuff... Darby, you came back. I'm so--" he stopped himself. They both stared at me and, like a knife to the chest, I realized they wanted me to leave.

He wanted me to leave.

Liam had to drag me out of the room and close the door behind them.

"What was that?"

"Just a bit of banter, really," I muttered adjusting myself.

In the kitchen Zayn was pacing back and forth with his hands on top of his head. "You have some explaining to do, mate. I leave to talk some sense into our girl Darby and I come back and you and Harry..."

"Would you stop calling her 'our girl'," I snapped. "She's not our girl. She's not one of us."

"She's his fiancé."

"Maybe she shouldn't be."

Zayn motioned with his hand to keep it down. "What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"You're sweating."

"I kissed him, alright! And I touched him a little." I left out the part where Harry kissed and touched me because I didn't want them to think less of him.

Zayn covered his face with his hands. "No, no, no. Why would you do that?"

"Because I'm in love with him!"

Liam covered my mouth. "Keep your voice down!"

I pushed him off of me. "What, you don't want to stick around and hang out with our girl, Darby."

Liam was absolutely done with me. But Zayn could see right through my sass straight to my sadness.

I didn't want to cry in front of them, so I turned toward the sink.

"Louis," Zayn placed a hand on my back. "Harry will always be a part of your life."

That simply wasn't true. It was all or nothing with us. We either belonged to each other completely or we lived separate lives. I didn't know how to exist around Harry without wanting him. A better person could but not me. If he married Darby, I would lose him for good.

A/N: I rewrote this chapter so many times... I'd love to know what you guys think.

The next chapter is about the rehearsal dinner. In the story we are just 2 days away from Harry and Darby's wedding. But those 2 days will be broken up into several chapters.

Thank you for reading!