You've Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes)

Chapter 2

It's only when Harry gets in his car and begins to drive does he realise he has no idea where he's going. He never actually visited Louis' new place. Why would he? It would have been too painful, and then time passed, their lives went in completely different directions and something as normal as knowing each other's address became redundant.

He has a few options here. He could contact Louis directly about it, a mutual friend, or One Direction's team. He decides on the latter because it requires the least amount of explaining himself.

By the time he has the address, his mentions online have blown up. The ones from friends and family came through via private texts, asking if he's okay, whether he and Louis are back together, etc. He considers calling Sarah and Mitch up, getting them to talk him out of seeing Louis. But their texts are just as confused as the rest of them. There's a whole circle of people who he considers lifelong friends who have no idea he and Louis ever dated. Jesus Christ. What a fucking disaster.

The rest of the world outside Harry's bubble has begun to realise what the video really means - the gravity of it - and now it's circulating like wildfire. He's been tagged in endless Instagram and Twitter posts. He catches a glimpse of endless green and blue heart emojis popping up on his lock screen. It makes him cringe – physically cringe – so he turns off his notifications entirely.

Around the time Harry and Louis broke up, Harry began distancing himself from social media. So much of it had felt tied to what he had with Louis; from embarrassing flirting between them on Twitter to subliminal images in his Instagram feed. When they made a whole account for a Build A Bear, Harry became vaguely aware that things had gotten out of hand. But at the time it had felt right, a way to talk to the fans truthfully without really exposing themselves. But then it became a painful reminder of everything Harry no longer had, and a means to keep up unhealthy coping mechanisms.

He decided his happiness had become dependent on what others thought of him, and he wanted to change that. It was all just white noise, Louis had reminded him in the past, and without his reassurance, Harry had to navigate it all on his own.

Now, aside from checking fan engagement with new projects, Harry has an assistant post promotional images on his behalf. Sometimes he tweets weird shit, but more often than not that leads to lurking, which leads to moping, and he's better than that. Or so he likes to believe.

It occurs to him, as he pulls up outside a classy, but unassuming townhouse in Hackney (the complete other side of London to where they lived as a couple. That's not lost to Harry), that Louis may not be home. Or worse, he might have company.

"Fuck," Harry mutters to himself, hands gripping the steering wheel for dear life. Suddenly, he's become so aware of how rash he's being. He hasn't seen Louis in years. They haven't even spoken. And now he's showing up unannounced in the middle of the night.

Harry idles, the engine rumbling, almost egging him on spluttering: do it, do it, do it.

He can still back out. Louis would have no idea Harry showed up at his place. But that won't stop tomorrow from arriving, from the onslaught of shit to come.

No, he has to do this.

Harry turns his car off, counts to ten then gets out and approaches the yellow front door. He takes a deep breath in and presses the buzzer, staring at the brass number 9 at eye level. He hears the bell echoing through the hallway, triggering raucous barks from Louis' dogs. Their claws clatter against the hardwood of the entryway as they lumber to the front door.

Harry can see their silhouettes through a slither of glass panelling either side of the front door. It's the first time he's actually seen them in person. Harry's a cat person. Louis bought two massive dogs within months of their break up. Go figure.