Chapter 54 - Liquor lips & blue bombshell

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After two solid days of only getting out of the plush bed to eat and shower and dip in the hot tub once or twice, it was heartbreaking to return to the real world. It wasn't like I didn't miss my flat, with its creaky floors and quirky roommates (s? I wasn't sure if either of them had admitted Louis lived there yet). 

It was more just like I'd rather spend the rest of my life listening to Harry drawl, soft and slow, words like "darling" and "I love you" and "don't even think about putting on clothes, Norah". So maybe I was a little bit bitter as I stomped up the stairs to my apartment after leaving the Hamptons, Harry close in tow behind me.

I bathed in with a loud shout of, "honey, I'm home!"

There was a beat of silence. Then, "Hope you brought birthday presents!"

"Jesus Christ," I mumbled, turning on my heel to look at Harry, finger pointed accusingly at his chest. "I told you. I told you. Louis Tomlinson is a birthday month whore. Quick, we've got to get out of here. Turn around while we have the chance."

Harry rolled his eyes and brushed past me, completely ignoring all warnings that I had spouted to him about Louis and his constant reminders of the quickly approaching date. With a quiet huff of annoyance, I crossed my arms and stomped behind him into the living room.

Jace and Louis sat sprawled across the couch. Various mugs of tea and coffee and probably alcohol sat on the coffee table, beside a huge packet of what seemed to be a script of some play and a look book from the last photo shoot at work.

My bright-eyed best friend was off the couch in seconds and flinging himself into my arms. "Norah! How was your weekend?"

"Good," I mumbled into his neck. "Really, really good."

"Details. Now, obviously."

I looked over his shoulder pointedly at Harry. "Tomorrow at work."

"Work is for working," Jace said, swatting my shoulder.

"When have we ever actually worked while at work?"

"Sometimes we go to meetings," he insisted with a wave of his head. "Whatever, this talk of work is boring me. We haven't gone out in like, a really long time. We're probably reaching a record of how long it's been. So. We're going out tomorrow. Already got it planned."

"Tomorrow is Monday, Jace. We're working adults, or something like that. I don't wanna be super hungover at work."

Jace scowled. "God, when did we get so old? You're all domestic and whatnot with Harry. Stop that."

I was pretty sure my eyes were going to bug out of my head as I looked around the room, waving my hands with a flourish at Louis and all Louis-related things in the apartment. We literally had a family portrait of the Tomlinson's hanging on our wall, right underneath Louis' framed college diploma.

"Louis actually lives here," I said, disbelieving. "Do not even get me started on our damn living situations. Louis might as well pay rent by now."

Jace looked somewhat confused. If he wasn't my best friend and also the reason I'd been managing to somewhat transition into the real world in the past few years, he would definitely be thrown off of our balcony. "That doesn't make sense. But we are going out tomorrow, okay?"

I flicked in between his eyebrows. "Yeah, okay. I'm sleeping at Harry's."

"How domestic."

"You can start calling me domestic once you explain that," I shot back, pointing at the Tomlinson family photo proudly displayed on our wall. Jace flicked me off as I sauntered towards my bedroom to pack a bag. With a lot of clothes. Because Harry said I had space in his closet. 

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