Delinquent - L.S.

Seven

Harry was downstairs in the living room of Liam's flat, feeling very out of place amongst the sweaty teens grinding on each other around him. He was surrounded by people and he still felt alone. Harry was about four drinks in, not including Louis' whiskey, and was now nursing his fifth cup (this one containing watermelon vodka which he actually really liked).

"Harry! You okay? You look kind of stressed," Liam's voice rang. The brunette approached Harry with a concerned look on his face.

Harry met the boy's brown eyes, nodding his head. "Yeah. M'fine," he replied slowly, trying to figure out why Liam even cared. He took another drink and swallowed it, his throat suddenly feeling dry.

"You know, you look good tonight, H. Can I get you a drink?" he asked, crossing his toned arms over his chest with one of his signature dazzling smiles.

Harry gestured to his red cup, as if he were toasting. "I'm all good. I've got one. Thanks though," he said, knowingly acting a little short with the boy. He was drunk and annoyed and not really prepared to deal with Liam's scrutiny which was most likely coming at any moment.

"You should smile more. You look better when you're not scowling like that. You're a super good looking kid, Haz, show it off," Liam nudged Harry with his elbow.

Harry was surprised. Liam sounded the kindest he had in a long time. But, he knew that everything was a game with Liam, there was definitely something hidden behind his sudden sweetness. And it definitely wasn't just that Liam was drunk, Harry knew that the older boy could drink for hours without even slurring a single word or stumbling on a single step or altering a single behavior. He just didn't know what the boy wanted this time, what he was trying to get at.

"Thanks, Li," Harry said apprehensively. "Are you having a good time?"

A flirty grin appeared on Liam's face. "Yeah, I actually am. The night got better now though, considering I'm hanging out with you," he laughed. "I've missed you, Harry. And your friendship."

Harry took another drink, feeling quite uncomfortable. "Yeah. I've missed your friendship too," he responded truthfully, though he still wasn't sure that Liam was being sincere. He quickly changed the subject, hoping to make things a little less awkward. "So, um, what do you usually do when you throw these big parties? Is hosting as glamorous as it seems?"

Liam shrugged, clearly uninterested by the conversation's sudden new direction. "It's not too bad. Usually I just drink and play beer pong and dance," he listed off, counting off on his fingers.

"And make out with Cheryl?" Harry blurted, not even realizing that the words actually left his mouth.

Liam looked taken back. His eyebrows were raised and an amused smirk had spread across his lips. "Where did that come from, H?" he asked, sounding highly entertained.

Harry felt his cheeks heat up with embarrassment. "I guess I just," he trailed off, a little fuzzy and a little panicky as to what Liam would say next. "I don't know."

"You just had a lot to drink?" Liam finished for him.

"You could say that."

He nodded understandingly. "Yeah, I've been there and done that. But, while we're on the topic of Cheryl, have you seen her? She's kinda been MIA all night. I know that she's up to something. I can feel it," the older lad said uneasily. Liam shifted between his feet, dark eyes scanning the crowd as if he were searching for her again.