💔| ‘I love you, I’m sorry..’

I sat on the stiff, metal cot, staring at the dull gray wall, the weight of the night pressing on my chest like a brick. The air in the cell was thick—humid, stifling, suffocating. I could hear Louis pacing behind me, his footsteps sharp against the concrete floor. We had been locked in here together for what felt like forever, but tonight was the last night. Bail had been posted. By tomorrow, we’d be free. But freedom didn’t feel like much to celebrate.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” Louis’ voice cut through the silence, sharp with frustration. “Proper hypocrite, you are.”

I exhaled slowly, rubbing my temple. “Not this again, Lou.”

“Yes, this again. You wanna tell me what you said earlier wasn’t real? That you didn’t mean it?”

I turned to look at him, jaw tightening. “I said what I said.”

His face twisted with something between anger and disappointment. “Right. So, what? You’re fine with bein’ locked up together, fine with us bein’ best mates—”

I scoffed, standing up. “That’s different, and you know it.”

“How is it different, Harry?” His voice rose. “You—you can’t even see how messed up it is, can you? You’re actin’ like—fuck. We’ve been through everything together, and now, just ‘cause it makes you uncomfortable, I’m suddenly some… what? Some stranger to you?”

I turned away, pressing my fingers into my temples. “I just don’t want to talk about this anymore, alright?”

“No, ‘cause then you’d have to admit you’re wrong.”

I spun around, anger flaring in my chest. “Maybe I don’t want to admit anything because I don’t bloody agree with you!”

Louis flinched like I’d struck him, and for a moment, the room was unbearably silent. His lips parted, but he just shook his head, swallowing hard. “You really are lost, mate,” he muttered, voice quieter now. “I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

A lump formed in my throat, but I pushed it down. “Maybe you never did.”

We were getting out tomorrow. But would we still walk out together? Or was this it.