The Project [Louis]

Chapter Five (Or Louise is Not American)

a/n: a lot of people liked the indian cleaner lady in the last chapter lmao

if you don't know that 'bro' meme this chapter is gonna be weird

and uh i'm writing this in a hotel room and the wifi if rlly crappy lmao thought i'd share.

"Hey Louis," Zayn detached his mouth from the blunt in his hand, leaning into my ear, "I'm high, but don't tell Louis. Okay, Louis?" He giggles, so close to my ear that he could bite it off.

"Sure thing." I sigh, once again looking around for any sign of people. The two of us are sitting out back of the hotel at two in the morning because Zayn feels like he needs to get insanely high at two in the morning for his own personal reasons which I do not understand.

I got high once. Once. Alright? That happened to be when I had the genius idea to film the whole ordeal and then send it to Liam. After that, I don't think I'll ever touch another blunt. Zayn, on the other hand...

"I think Louis knows that I'm high." Zayn moans, sounding both sexually frustrated and in complete distress.

"I didn't tell him." I tell Zayn, who takes another drag out of the short roll-up as I wrap my arms around my knees, which are pulled up to my chest.

"You swear, bro?" Zayn looks me dead in the eye,

"Yeah," I look back at him, "bro..." 

"Bro, I love you, y'know?" Zayn says wistfully,

"Love you too, bro." I yawn, as it is two in the morning.

"Bro." He replies, looking at the now burnt out blunt in his hands. 

"Are you done now? Can we go sleep?" I ask, muffling another yawn.

"Yeah." Zayn drops the blunt on the ground in front of him before standing up while I unravel my limbs so that I as well can stand up. "But if you tell Louis I'll probably slap you across the face with my cockadoodle doo. Okay?" He breaths as we walk inside, looking terrified of what I might do to him if I tell me that Zayn was high.

We ride the elevator, silent other than Zayn mumbling something that sounds like "Niall's blonde, Niall's skinny, Niall's rich, and Niall's a little bit of a bitch."

When we get to our floor, I set Zayn off with a pat on his back, too tired to care about what he might do. I stumble down the hall to Harry's and my room, seeing light flooding under the door. Harry must be up.

I open the door slowly and see Harry sitting up in his bed, watching a rerun of Friends on the television on a quiet volume.

"I thought you had died." He says absentmindedly, seeing me walk in and close the door behing me.

"I don't die every night I'm not here." I smile, kicking off my shoes and jumping into my bed.

Harry shrugs, shutting off the television and the lamp between our beds. "I was just worried." He says, by the sounds of it shrugging under his sheets.

"Thanks." I sigh, climbing under my duvet myself. "But I'm fine." 

"I know." Harry says sleepily, and I close my eyes, just praying that Zayn doesn't hire a prostitute to play Monopoly with him or something.

We don't exactly have a wide assortment of board games.

+

I wake up to the noise of sex.

Yes, that is a sound.

Before opening my eyes, I contemplate over whether it's Harry having sex or Harry watching porn.