A Second Chance - A Larry Stylinson Fanfiction

Chapter 7

Hey everyone, how you doin'? You doing good? I'm doing good. Well, here is the longest chapter I have written so far, and I hope you all like it.

Enjoy(:

~

Chapter 7

~

"Zayn Malik!" I scream as my teeth begin to chatter obnoxiously. I spring off my now soaked bed and grab a fluffy pillow that was narrowly missed by the attack, chucking it at my best mate that I currently have the desire to murder. He blocks my attack with the empty bucket that was previously filled with ice and water. I squeal and grab at the back of my trousers where a rather large ice cube makes its way down my leg. "You're dead," I threaten a snickering Zayn.

Setting down the bucket on his dresser, Zayn chuckles, "I just wanted to make sure you were awake so I could tell you I'm going to be out all day."

I rip off my drenched clothes and pull on some blue trousers and a green top. "Yeah? Where are you going? You know, other than Hell," I give him a look that lets him know that he will pay for his rude awakening and strip my bed, piling all the blankets, sheets, and pillow cases at the end of the mattress.

Zayn pulls a sweater over his head, pulling down his quiff which quickly pops back into place, making me snigger. "You know that Liam bloke from the party? Well, when you were tuckered out yesterday, I ran into him at the cafe. We got to talking and now we're going to go to the gym then lunch. I'm not really sure of anything past that, but Liam's an organized fellow, he probably has a lot of activities ready."

"Alright, well you go have fun. I'll spend my Sunday doing my laundry and homework. These Physics concepts are difficult."

"Sounds good. Sunday is officially laundry day of the term. I'll see you later, Lou." Zayn places a sloppy kiss on my cheek then flees the room before I can even think of getting back at him.

"Tosser!" I shout at the closed door. I shake my head fondly. Zayn may be a mischievious prick, but he's my mischievous prick, as possessive as that sounds. I gather all my dirty laundry in my arms and spend a good three minutes fumbling with the door knob, unable to get a grip on it without dropping any laundry. "Finally," I sigh in relief when I hear the click of the door opening. I don't have as hard of a time closing the door and I am soon on my way to the laundry department just outside the dorms.

Someone takes pity on me when I reach the laundromat and opens the door for me, holding it in place so I can slip through. "Thank you," I call out to my faceless helper. I peer over my laundry in search of an open washing machine. Toward the wall opposite me, I spot one, directly to the right of a certain slim brunette.

I dump my clothes in the washer and throw some detergent in as well before starting the machine and turning to the person to my left who it delicately flipping through a Vogue magazine, sitting gracefully atop the washer, "Hey, El."

Eleanor pauses mid-page flip and lowers the magazine to meet my eyes with a cold stare. "Louis." Her tone is icier than her eyes. She brings the magazine back up to block her face from my view - and vice versa - and continues to casually flip through the magazine.

Rolling my eyes with an exasperated sigh, I hop up on my washer as well to sit by her. "El, I think we should talk. About the other night."

"Is that so?" Another page flip.

Another exasperated sigh, "Come one, El, please? You can't ignore me forever." Unless this is you finally figuring out you're too good for me and breaking up with me. Perhaps Stan was right and we can't even last a year.