My Gay Roommate (L.S)

Thirty Four

I grab my burrito, tummy asking for more. My legs kick under the table, head bopping side to side now that my moody phase is pretty much over.

The rest of dinner goes smoothly and I'm able to finish all my burrito and a cookie, only feeling slightly guilty over it after it's finished.

We are in the front room when Niall sheepishly creeps over, rubbing the back of his neck.

"H," he mumbles, biting his lip.

I look up, head against Louis' chest, feet propped up in Liam's lap. The look on Niall's face makes me feel slightly worried.

"Yeah?" I question, sitting up slightly.

He points a thumb over toward the bedrooms. "Can I, erm... can I talk to you for a moment?" I've never heard Niall sound so quiet and fragile.

It makes me feel slightly sick, thinking maybe I've done something to upset him.

"You alright, Nialler?" Louis asks, brow quirked.

Niall nods quickly. "Yeah. Just wanna speak to H about something."

I slowly get up, Louis gives my hand a light squeeze before shifting toward Zayn so that he can snuggle up to someone.

I take Niall into my room, neither of us speaking a word. I sit on my bed, picking up my pillow and hugging it to my chest.

As soon as Niall closes the door, I blurt out, "alright, what have I done?"

He shakes his head, hands up in surrender. "No, no! It's nothing to do with you specifically. You haven't done anything, I just needed to chat to someone."

"Why me?" I ask. Surely he'd want to speak to one of the other lads that he's been friends with for practically life.

He gives a weak smile, crashes onto the bed with his legs propped beneath him. "Because the others have practically come out queer since they climbed out their mum's wombs. You're new to this too, feel like you're easier to talk to about this. We are experiencing this shit as newbies. And I know you won't judge me."

"The others wouldn't judge you either," I point out.

He sighs. "I know. But they've known me for years as the funny guy that likes crushing over girls. Their views on me may change, and I'm not sure if I'm ready for all that."

I lean over toward him, placing my hand in his. His are cold, slightly clammy, but they're familiar, feeling like a safe blanket. I give it a reassuring squeeze.

"What's it you want to chat to me about?" I ask calmly.

He chews on his lip, tracing patterns with his free hand onto his jeans. "Well... you know the guys that I went to see earlier? Well, I think..." He puts his head in his hands. "I think I'm crushing over one of them."

"Okay... what makes you think that you're crushing? You getting the butterflies?" I ask, smiling, knowing the feeling whenever I think of Louis and those wings flutter in my tummy.

He groans, flops flat onto the bed, one arm outstretched, the other arm covering his face. "Yes. Jesus, Harry. I'm getting the fucking lot. It's like a herd of butterflies! Is it a herd? Hive? I don't fucking know. But not only that, my mind won't stop thinking about him and whenever I see a text from him, I feel like I could melt or collapse with excitement." He fakes a sob, frown deepening on his face.

I pat his knee, giggling. "You've fallen hard."

He swats my hand away, daggers thrown my way. "Oh shut it, Princess, says you. You quite literally had an angry episode with Louis all because of your jealousy as you thought he was fit."