14 days with you - Larry

DAY 1

"It's an inconvenience, Harry."

"Leave me alone," I mumble, staring out of the window as England slowly disappears beneath us. "I believe that's the least you can do."

"There's no reason to—"

"Hey," Zayn interrupts, directing his words at Liam. "Leave him alone."

"Zayn—"

"He's not worth it."

I'm beginning to wonder how I'm going to get through this vacation. I can normally ignore Liam by only seeing him on certain occasions. London is big enough to accommodate us both, so we're not running into each other on a regular basis. There's something disconcerting about knowing I have to share a room with him and Zayn—it's beyond me that Liam has been allowed to bring him, but I suppose it makes sense on our parents part.

"Behave, boys," Mum hums. "I can't stand it when you argue."

"My apologies, Anne. It won't happen again."

He and I both know that's not true—Mum knows it, too, but she chooses not to mention it. I told her to leave me at home—I should be old enough to demand as much—but I'm trying to please her since Gemma couldn't come. I normally enjoy our vacations, so had Liam stayed in London, I'd have stepped onto the plane in a better mood.

I could positively strangle him.

I know how long I have to sit here—approximately two hours—but my mind is convinced I need to pee more than I do because Liam keeps speaking to Zayn about recent politics. Zayn seems as uninterested as I am, but he's even less likely to make him shut up than I am. I suppose he's being a good boyfriend by listening without complaining.

My mood increases as soon as we're on the ground again, but it decreases by the time we're seated in a bus that reeks of sweat. I scrunch up my nose in response, breathing through my mouth as I wonder how soon I'll catch a break. I'm beginning to consider the possibility that I might not catch one until we're back in London.

"Honey, are you okay by yourself?"

I suppress the urge to roll my eyes, knowing she probably wouldn't appreciate it. "I'm good."

I'm not good.

From my position, I can see Liam and Zayn—more specifically Zayn's need to trace the inside of Liam's thigh. I raise an eyebrow in response, scrunching up my nose when Liam spreads his legs. I look away before I get nauseous—or see something I'm not supposed to. I can't help but wonder if they're going to be inappropriate once we're sleeping in the same room. Perhaps I should sleep outside—or come across someone English who won't mind taking me in. I assume it could work out, but I'm not sure Mum would approve.

The bus heads towards Cavallino-Treporti once everyone has snatched a seat. The scenery eases my mind considerably as it passes by, something I've craved since I was picked up this morning. Being here brings me a sense of comfort, so I'm relieved to be stepping outside once we reach our destination. I close my eyes so I can breathe in the scent of Italy and let myself soak under the intensity of the sun. I've missed it here, but there's also a part of me that can't quite enjoy it when I know I have to share a room with Liam and Zayn.

"Honey," Mum says, tugging a curl behind my ear. "Don't you think it's nice to be back?"

"I suppose so."

She and I know the place in and out—the routine of checking in is practically inked into our brains. Mum takes the word in the reception, getting us checked in before she hands over our passport. The man behind the counter gives Mum our camping-passes, the key-card to our air-lodge and a book with a map over the campsite and information about the facilities. He finds a cotton wristband for each of us, securing them around our wrists one by one. They're multicoloured this year, a mixture of blue, red and green with the year and the campsite's logo etched into the material. They've always been of the same quality, perfectly nice for a wristband we have to wear until we leave.