Chapter Fifteen

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Chapter Fifteen

"We're finally here guys! Brighton, the town of pride, guys and loads of pies!" Zayn pronounced as they entered the magnificent seaside town, the girls cheered enthusiastically as they fidgetted in their seats, having been sat in them for several hours on the drive down. Louis chuckled to himself as he kept his eyes on the road before him, hands firmly on the wheel as he carefully shot past traffic. Their parents had offered to fly them out to Brighton, but they politley refused, wanting to take the time to travel down there independantly and prove that they can work as a family, that they do not need their parents.

"Pies?" Safaa asked, confusedly as she giggled beside Phoebe and Daisy. Lottie, Fizz, Waliyha and Doniya glanced over the seats before them, looking at the three smaller girls, before turning to Zayn and quirking eyebrows in unison.

"Okay, maybe not pies but... It rhymed." Zayn replied, attempting to excuse himself as Louis laughed carefreely, feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket as he bit his lip. Harry... He knew it was Harry, how could it not be him? A sigh left Louis' lips as he tried to focus back on the road, but the conversation before him pulled him in, his mind still wracked with images of Harry, of wanting to see him, needing to see him. His stomach fluttering and heart breaking at both the idea of seeing him and yet knowing that he has to wait a week until he can do so. So long. Too long.

"Zayn, you're so geeky." Doniya commented, rolling her eyes at her younger brother. Zayn let out a huff at her comment as she turned back to Lottie, Waliyha and Fizz, giggling with them.

"Oh shut it." Zayn quipped, almost inaudibly but Doniya cocked an eyebrow and smirking knowingly, sticking her tongue out at Zayn, childishly.

"Nah, it's too fun." She spoke, Zayn huffed again and turned to Louis, pouting his lip as Louis laughed again, eyes on the road as he turned the car a few more times. 

"Can we just get out? I'm dying in this car!" Lottie exclimed, exasperately, throwing her arms up dramatically.

"We're all dying." Walihya corrected, poking Lottie in her side gently.

"Okay, fine... We're all dying!" Lottie replied, throwing her arms up again as the three other girls in the back threw their arms up as well.

"Only a few more minutes until we reach the house." Louis commented, his phone feeling heavy against his leg as the desire to find out what Harry had texted him grew, almost enveloping him. Almost.

"The house?" Daisy asked softly.

"Yeah, we have a house down here. Mother and father wanted to have a little hideaway and it tended to come in handy, especially for when they had work down here." Louis replied, smiling softly as they parked in the street, a beautiful and elegant white house standing before them.

"Wow... Let's go to the beach!" Lottie exclaimed excitedly, jumping in her seat in the back of the large car, Fizz giggling at her side as Phoebe and Daisy's faces lit up at the mention of the beach.

"Beach, lets go get away." Waliyha echoed playfully, laughter erupting in the back of the car as Zayn and Louis rolled their eyes. Car doors opened, bags were drug out as Louis opened the door to their home for the next week, smiling greatly as Lottie helped Waliyha and Fizz with their bags while all the gilrs giggled and spoke. Zayn patted Louis' shoulder as the family entered. Yes, they are a family. Louis' heart warmthened at the thought, they would be okay. Their family, no matter how weird and terrible it is with their parents, atleast he will always have Zayn and the girls. When they had all entered the home, rooms were claimed, fridges filled with food and bags unpacked for the next hour or so while Louis simply stood in the living room. His eyes gracing over the old, wooden furniture. The grains of mahogany and pine catching his eye as he glanced over the seats. Memories rushing to his mind as the feeling of nostalgia engulfed him, cheerful and yet anxious memories. His hand trailed over the stone fireplace, each individual greying stone sticking out in its own unique and individual way, rough and smooth edges falling beneath his fingers as he traced the concrete keeping it up. A few Christmases he spent here, just he and his parents, sat before the fire with Eleanor and his few nannies, roasting marshmallows and exchanging sweet tales, even Zayn would stumble in and laugh with them as their imagination took off at the simple tale of Santa Claus.

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