Stockholm Syndrome (One Direction Story)

Part 1 - Who's that shadow holding me hostage?

The smell of pizza hit them the moment Liam opened the front door, and Zayn shoved past him like he owned the place.

"Oi, leave some for the rest of us," Liam laughed, kicking the door shut with his heel.

"You snooze, you lose," Zayn shot back, already making a beeline for the kitchen. His dark hair fell into his eyes, but he didn't seem to notice, too focused on the greasy box on the counter.

Niall was right behind him, practically bouncing. "Please tell me you got pepperoni! Oh my God, is that stuffed crust? Liam Payne, you absolute legend." He grabbed Liam in a quick hug before darting into the kitchen to yank a slice from the box.

"Legend? He just ordered a takeaway," Zayn said, smirking.

"Exactly. Best skill anyone can have," Niall replied, already with his mouth full.

Liam rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. This was their usual—Zayn, Niall, and him spending afternoons like this, easy and comfortable. The only one missing was Louis, who had texted ten minutes ago saying he'd be late. Again.

Zayn settled onto the couch with his plate. "Reckon Lou's gonna show before halftime?"

"He said he would," Liam said, trying to sound casual. He didn't want to admit that it had started to worry him, the way Louis was always late or ducking out early these days. It wasn't like him. Louis was usually the loudest voice in the room, the one who hated missing out on anything.

"Mm, he better," Niall said between bites. "I brought a new card game, and it won't be half as fun without him." He reached into his bag, pulling out a colorful box with a flourish. "Exploding Kittens! Heard of it?"

Zayn raised an eyebrow. "Exploding... what?"

"It's brilliant! You'll see." Niall's grin was wide enough to make Liam chuckle despite himself.

Just then, the front door creaked open again. Louis slipped inside, shutting it quickly like he didn't want to be noticed. His hair was messy, his hoodie sleeves tugged low over his hands.

"Took your sweet time," Zayn called.

Louis forced a grin. "Miss me that much?"

"Always," Niall said cheerfully, jumping up to hug him. Louis tensed, just for a second, before hugging back. If Niall noticed, he didn't comment, already dragging him toward the couch.

"Oi, careful, Nialler," Louis laughed, but his voice was just a bit too high-pitched, the way it got when he was covering something.

"You're late," Zayn said, though his tone was more teasing than annoyed.

"Traffic," Louis lied easily, tossing himself into the armchair. "You know how it is."

"On a Tuesday afternoon?" Zayn muttered, but Liam shot him a look, and he let it drop.

Niall thrust a plate of pizza at Louis. "Eat. You look starving."

Louis hesitated, then took it. "Cheers, Ni." He nibbled at the edge, not really eating.

The match started on TV, filling the silence with the roar of a stadium. Liam leaned back, trying to relax, but his eyes kept flicking to Louis. He was quieter than usual, laughing when the others laughed but not adding much himself. And when Liam shifted beside him on the couch, Louis flinched almost imperceptibly, like he expected to be hit.

Liam's stomach twisted. He wanted to ask, but Louis had that wall around him—the same one he always put up when things got too close.

"Lou," Zayn said suddenly, "you're playing the next round, yeah? Niall's dragged us into some weird kitten game."