No Strings Attached

Chapter Five

That and the fact that he didn’t need to be famous to fuck Harry Styles, after all.

***

Louis sipped his tea, occasionally glancing over at Zayn, whose expression hadn’t changed in the last minute.

When Louis first told Zayn what happened last night, his jaw dropped. A bit dramatic, Louis thought, but at least it was an honest reaction. Thirty seconds had passed before Zayn’s features scrunched up into confusion, like he was stuck on the verge of asking a very important question. He had even neglected his tea, along with his eggs and toast. Finally, another minute passed before Zayn’s features evened out to the contemplative and intensely focused expression he wore right now. 

Louis grabbed a forkful of egg and fed a bite to Rosie, who was still drowsily sitting upright in his lap. She clung onto Louis’ shirt pocket, sleepily chewing the food he gave her. 

“Sleepy, cutiebug?” Louis said gently. 

“Sweepy,” Rosie affirmed, resting her head and long brown locks against his chest. 

Louis looked up at Zayn, who was now staring at the father-daughter pair in disbelief. 

“What?” Louis asked defensively. “I’m feeding my daughter over here, if you don’t mind.”

But Zayn shook his head to disregard the comment, and Louis braced himself because Zayn finally looked like he was ready to start asking questions. 

“Wait…” he began slowly, and Louis couldn’t help but scoff. So he was going to take the slow, unsure approach. “Harry…Styles?”

At that, Louis just rolled his eyes and carried Rosie over to the couch, where he laid her down gently so she could sleep again. He gave her a light kiss on her forehead before returning to Zayn’s kitchen table, where his best mate was still staring at him like he was awaiting some sort of earth-shattering revelation. 

“Yes, Harry Styles,” Louis whispered, careful not to wake his daughter. “Who else would I be talking about?” 

“I don’t know!” Zayn spoke up suddenly, causing Louis to give him a warning look that seemed to say Shut your bloody mouth. He lowered his voice when he said, “What am I supposed to think when the only thing you give me is ‘Harry and I slept together last night’? Who the fuck opens up with that?” 

Louis didn’t even care that Zayn was cursing; at least Rosie was asleep. He only shrugged, crossing one leg over the other. “I thought you knew I shagged somebody last night.”

“Yeah, but not Harry Styles,” he retorted, and Louis nodded in agreement. Zayn sighed and then said, “How did that even happen? Don’t tell me that you stalked him because that’s a new low, even for you Lou – ” 

Louis kicked Zayn’s leg under the table before giving him a threatening glance that warned him not to make any loud noises. He sunk back into his chair as he said, “Of course I didn’t stalk him, you prat. He showed up at the restaurant. I didn’t even plan on running into him, did I? It just…happened.” Something about the phrase comforted Louis, like everything was well beyond his control. And maybe it was.

Zayn watched Louis delicately, like maybe he thought he had something else to add. But after a couple moments of silence, his shoulders slacked and he breathed deeply.

“Alright,” Zayn said slowly, and Louis could see him visibly working through the situation. “What does this mean then? Are you seeing him again?”

Louis blinked. He hadn’t considered it. But the obvious answer was a resounding ‘no.’ How could he? He didn’t have a means of contacting him, and he didn’t exactly expect Harry to show up at the restaurant again. Harry had said it all last night: