Room 317

Chapter 9

“Do you think,” Louis paused to swallow his mouthful, “if a man with a multiple personality disorder threatens to kill himself, it would be considered a hostage situation?”

“Maybe…” Harry shrugged, opening his mouth for Louis to feed him another piece of popcorn. He chewed slowly, his eyes following Richard Gere on the TV as his lawyer character walked through the prison on a mission. A moment later, he reached up to press some kernels into Louis’s mouth and supposed, “If he went through with it though, would it be considered suicide, assisted suicide, multiple homicide or mass murder?”

Louis shifted a little on the sofa, stretching out his toes and bouncing Harry’s head a little as he moved. Harry was sprawled out along the couch with his head resting on Louis’s lap while Louis was smudged up into the corner of the three-seater, sitting normally but with his arm draped over the younger boy’s shoulder. They were about three-quarters of the way through the movie but only half-way through their bowl of popcorn. It had been a lazy day. Harry had woken up feeling a little under the weather and, although he hadn’t said anything, Louis had somehow picked up on his sluggishness and kept their activities gentle on the senses. They’d spent most of the day on the couch watching whatever came on to TV and having sporadic conversations on the most random of subjects. Harry was feeling quite sympathetic to his friend as daytime TV really did suck and Louis had had to endure two months of it. He opened his mouth again to accept some more popcorn from Louis’s now greasy fingers.

“You two are so weird,” drawled Zayn as he wandered into the living-room and slumped down into one of the armchairs. He put his phone to the side, having clearly been texting someone – probably Liam – and regarded his two friends in disbelief. “Seriously, do you guys not feel weird doing that sort of thing? Because it’s really weird to watch.”

Louis shrugged, “what sort of thing? I don’t find anything weird about Harry, except his taste in male pop crushes.”

Zayn rolled his eyes, “I mean lying there, practically cuddling and feeding each other with your own hands?”

Harry shoved his hand back in the bowl and grabbed a handful of kernels before slowly and deliberately reaching up and pressing them into Louis’s mouth. Louis took them in without hesitation and Harry grinned over at their other band mate, “Nope, not weird at all.”

“If,” Louis added, his voice slightly muffled by his mouthful, “you want to join in you don’t even have to ask – pull up a pew,” he indicated the arm rest by his elbow, “don’t sit there all jealous.”

Harry sniggered and coughed, wincing internally at how it caused a harsh pain in his throat and how that pain travelled straight to his ears, leaving them burning. He pressed a hand to his throat and massaged the tender area. Shit, he really was coming down with something and that bloody headache he had woken up with was coming back with a vengeance. He hunched up a little and pressed the side of his aching head into Louis’s thigh.

“Hey,” Louis said softly, immediately picking up on his change of mood, “are you okay?” He leaned down over him to peer into his face, looking a little concerned.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, cringing at the increasing hoarseness of his voice and how much it suddenly hurt to swallow, “just not feeling too good – thing I might be coming down with something.”

Louis pressed a hand to his forehead and frowned further, “You feel a little warm, Hazza.”

“Probably just a cold or something,” Harry muttered, shifting restlessly.

Louis’s eyes narrowed, “That’s what I thought when I first felt ill and look what happened. Come on, let me up. You need some Paracetamol.”