Escape

Hangovers, Bobby's Diner, and An Unexplainable Change

Louis' POV

First things first 

I'ma say all the words inside my head

I'm fired up and tired of the way that things have been, oh ooh

Second thing second

Don't you tell me what you think that I can be

I furrowed my eyebrows as my ringtone blared near me. My eyes snapped open. I brought a hand up to cover my eyes, the light creeping into the room.

What the hell?  

There shouldn't have been any light, that's what I had curtains for. I groaned and searched for my phone. When I found it, I brought it up to see who the bloody hell was calling me at nine in the freaking morning, on a Sunday! I slowly opened my eyes to see Zayn's caller ID. Still being mad at him, I denied the call. I knew they were worried but I was still mad, I'll just call them later. I tossed my phone to the side and looked around.

I knew I wasn't in my room because 1, there was light creeping into the room. My room had curtains so I wouldn't have to wake up to blinding sunlight. And 2, I was comfortably laying down. My bed had clothes, empty pizza boxes, books, and paper plates on it. I usually just shoved all of that to the other side. So, I either redecorated my room or I hooked up with someone. 

I tried sitting up but a heavyweight was keeping me down. I looked down and saw Marcel's sleeping figure laying half on top of me. Memories from last night came flooding back. I didn't redecorate or hook up with someone. I slept over at Marcel's. I was happy that I didn't drink that much. I did not want to deal with a hungover Marcel with a splitting headache. 

I sighed and slipped my arm out from under his arm. I carefully scooched away from him, his upper body, that was laying on top of me, fell to the bed. He groaned in his sleep but didn't wake up. I sat up on the edge of the bed and stretched, my muscles popping into place. I got up and the bed made a loud squeaky sound. I heard more groaning until a groggy voice, muffled by the pillow, said,

"Stop making noise!"

As fate would have it, my ringtone started blaring again. It was probably Zayn or Liam calling.

"Bloody hell! I'm trying to sleep!" Marcel yelled, still muffled by the pillow.

"It's not my fault!" I yelled back.

He groaned and sat up. "Stop yelling. I have a fucking headache and it's so fucking bright." He brought his hands up to cover his eyes. "I blame you. You're the one who fucking took me to the damn party." He said bitterly.

"No one told you to get drunk." I chuckled as he grabbed a pillow and threw it at me.

"Just lay down. I'll go find some aspirins." I said as I gently pushed him back into the bed.

I opened his door and walked to the kitchen. I opened his fridge and took out a water bottle. I started opening and closing a bunch of cabinets until I found the bottle of pills. As I made my way back to his room, I heard multiple retching sounds. I placed the water and pills on his nightstand and went to his bathroom. I fully opened the slightly ajar door and saw him on the floor, his head lazily hanging on the toilet seat.

"Come on, Marce," I mumbled as I helped him up. He leaned his head on my shoulder and let me drag him back to bed. I dropped him on his bed and grabbed the water and took three pills out.

"Marce, Marce," I mumbled, gently shaking his shoulder. He groaned but turned his body so he could face me. He saw the water and the pills then glanced up at me through his eyelashes.