98.6% Chance of Love at First Sight (l.s.)

iii- instagram??

When Harry awoke, it was to the ding of his phone on the beside table and the sound of a hand knocking hard on the door. He sighed and stuck his face into his pillow for a moment longer, hoping sleep would come to him again. After he realised he wasn't going to fall back asleep, Harry turned onto his back and practised adjusting his eyes to the morning light. A knock pounded once again, piercing through Harry's ears. He figured all the crying really did him in because he felt as if he was hungover from drinking all the vodka in the world.

"Harry?" Liam's worried voice came muffled through the wood of the hotel door, "Are you in there?" Oh, shit. He knew he was going to regret going to bed before talking to Liam. Harry could almost sense the lecture that was about to come to him. Reluctantly, he crawled out of the white cocoon of his bed and padded across the carpet to open up the door.

As soon as he pulled the door open, Liam flung himself at Harry, arms wrapped tightly around his middle. Harry caught chunks of sentences like "worried sick", "-didn't tell me a thing", and "could've been dead" through the rambling that was spilling out of his friend and manager. Liam's snapback had fallen off and landed at their feet- Harry assumed it flew away during his friend's desperation to get to him. Awkwardly, Harry patted Liam's back as his friend let out a day's worth of overwhelming stress.

"Liam, I'm fine," he spoke, stopping his patting after he realised it really wasn't helping, "I'm here, and I'm still on time for practice tomorrow." Abruptly, Liam pulled back from the forced embrace, looking Harry in the eyes with a steely gaze that would frighten the bravest of men.

"And you were late yesterday," he uttered the word like it was blasphemy, "I knock on your room's door this morning, expecting you there, but what do I get? An empty bed! The car you're supposed to have? Gone! You have no idea how much worry you've- Harry Edward Styles, why are you laughing at me?" Harry had been overcome with a fit of giggles when he realised the striking resemblence Liam's speech had to Mrs. Weasley's in one of the Harry Potter series.

"Uh, Mrs. Weasley?" It came out sounding like a question, but Liam just shook his head and sighed. He finally took his death grip off of Harry's arm and walked further into the room, allowing Zayn, who had been very awkwardly standing behind the doorframe, in. They shared a smile before he entered the room. Harry shut the door after everyone was in, doing the latch out of habit. He hadn't lived in the best of areas for many years before his collab album with Ed Sheeran made it big. There was no real need for a precaution like that now that he stayed in nice hotels and lived in an upper class neighbourhood, but the tendencies had stuck with him a bit.

When Harry turned, he noticed Liam rummaging through his pink suitcase, pulling out various clothing items, probably choosing an outfit for him. He honestly wasn't all that surprised. Liam was basically Harry's mother any time he's not right next to his actual mum- well, except for that time he was with his mum, and Liam made him clean up his dishes because he "needed to be a responsible adult". Mum was practically in tears from restrained laughter. Zayn and he made eye contact briefly, sharing another knowing look. Harry just shrugged before plopping on the soft comforter atop his bed, snatching his phone off the bedside table. A text from Ed was on the home screen.

hey mate. what songs are we doing for the awards show?

um, no clue? shouldn't you ask liam that or something? Harry replied.

it's our set, though.

Harry snorted. Ed had yet to meet Liam, but he'd surely understand why Harry was definitely not in charge of that shit when he did. If anything, he should already understand that Harry can almost never be in charge of anything because if he is, it probably won't get done.