Chapter 23

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WARNING!!! WARNING!!! WARNING!!!

THERE IS A ****DETAILED**** SEX SCENE IN THIS CHAPTER!!!

ALL INNOCENCE WILL BE STRIPPED FROM YOU IF YOU READ.

THANK YOU, AND ENJOY!! ;)

 

I like this chapter a lot. mostly because of the romance and stuff :) between Jillian and Niall. But the ending of this chapter is probably my favorite chapter ending that I have written.

Louis--

Where was everyone?

Harry had never come back. That Niall boy or Zayn didn't either, or his girlfriend. The girl from when I had woke up never came back, too. Jill? I think that was her name.

The nurse had been in a few more times. Once to check on me, another to top off my IV and pain meds.

I sighed and relaxed once again, sinking into the soft pillows, but I wasn't entirely comfortable.

There was nothing wrong with me. Physically, I was fine, but they wouldn't let me leave until I remembered something, or at least remembered the person I was going home with.

I remembered Zayn, though.

He was one of the first boys I had met during XFactor bootcamp. We had hung out a few times and I even tried to help him with his dancing. The thing was: I don't remember performing bootcamp. The last thing I remember was heading into the bathroom and then everything goes blank.

What had happened in that bathroom? Was it significant?

I sighed again and moved around.

"Louis?" a quiet voice called my name. I looked up to meet the person's beautiful green eyes. I wasn't even denying it anymore, denying myself anymore. I liked him. And if that made me gay, so be it.

"Harry..." I said back, almost breathing his name.

"How are you?" he asked me, still speaking softly.

"I'm perfectly fine. Well, except for the memory, but otherwise I'm good. They won't let me leave," I told him. "How are you?" I stressed the 'you'.

"I've been better. I've been worse," he said, shrugging. He tried to smile, but even I'd his mouth was formed right, it didn't reach his eyes. They were cold, lifeless, depressed.

I gasped quietly when I realized: Harry had become depressed again. And it was all my fault.

"Tell me the truth, Haz," I demanded him, sternly. But he didn't say anything, instead he looked up at me in surprise, his eyes glinting.

"What?" he asked, almost hopefully.

"I said: tell me the truth," I told him, confused.

"After that. You called me 'Haz'," he smiled for real this time.

"I did?" I wondered aloud. I did. I had called him Haz. I remembered. Not everything, but I remembered what had happened in the bathroom, and I had remembered his nickname.

*flashback*

I had walked in the bathroom to see a young boy. He was maybe 16-17, and had wild curly hair.

He was looking in the big mirror that was on the wall, trying to tame his mane, but gave up, sighing, and turned around. He had run into me.

"Oops," he mumbled. "Sorry."

I noticed that he didn't look up.

"Hi," I said, friendly. He looked up, then, his eyes widening as he stared at my face.

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