The Little Shop

The Woman Who Stays Oblivious

The Woman Who Stays Oblivious, in which we take a trip to the hospital and talk to a lady in jail.

IRISH

The morning greeted us with the smell of breakfast; beans, tomato, mushrooms, sausage, eggs, and crumpets. Every distinct smell. I was shocked. If anyone's going to make breakfast, it's going to be Harry, and he's across the room we're sharing in his bed, sleeping in, as always. I knew it couldn't be Zayn either, because he sleeps latest out of all of us, and it's Friday, so there's no way he got up before 10:30.

I knock on the bedroom wall above my bed, where I know Lou's left ear will be, and he knocks back, so Liam is cooking. Last time Liam made breakfast there my sausages were half raw, but I suppose it's the thought that counts, and he's surely learned from his mistakes, so I drag myself out of bed and pull on some pajamas.

I hope AJ's enjoying my room, because sharing with Harry is like sharing a room with Tumblr. He's got pictures everywhere, covering all the walls, and he's got quotes dangling from the ceiling. This is the only flat we all share, and we bought it for when we're recording, writing, or stopping over in London for a small while, so none of our stuff stays here. Our furniture and decorations, however, stay up year round and our families sometimes stay here when they come to visit in the city. I hope AJ's enjoying my flags from around the world and Bon Jovi posters...

Stumbling out of Harry's room, I rub my eyes and follow the smell of food into the kitchen, where, as expected, Liam is slaving away. I raise my hand in a silent wave, and Liam grins in response. With a groan, I let my nose lead me closer, but Liam catches me by the shoulders and steers me away from the stove and over to the table. 

"I was gonna help," I lie, using my best 'duh' tone to prove a point.

"No you weren't," Liam says, smirking at me. I shrug my shoulders in defeat and collapse into my usual chair. "Besides, I don't need any help."

"Of course not," I say gently. Liam hates asking for help, but is all-too willing to help when others are in need. I don't think I know anyone that's selfless the way Liam is.

"Could you speed things along, though? I'm absolutely ravenous," Harry mutters then, shuffling out of his room. I lift my arm in a salute, and he joins me at the table, mumbling a salutation in reply. "AJ up yet?"

"Nah, if she were, she'd have come out here... and maybe gotten Zayn up. He ended up sleeping on the bean bag chair because she was upset last night."

"Upset?" I ask.

"Yeah, she kept having nightmares. You both were too far away to hear, but she was crying most of the night," Liam explains.

"Aw," Harry says, furrowing his brow. "Poor baby."

"I know. It broke my heart to see... and hear," Liam whispers, more to himself than to us. 

"So.... how we doing on the breakfast, Li?" I ask. "Not trying to be pushy or anything, but... you know, an Irishman's got to eat."

"I've just got to do the eggs. You want yours scrambled?" Liam asks, turning to look at me. I nod in reply. He already knew the answer. "And Haz, yours over hard?"

"Yes, please, Chef Payne," Harry snorts, smiling widely. 

I hear the famous rickety squeak of Lou's door and then his feet walking quickly across the floor. "I smell food!" Louis calls into the room. Unlike Harry, when Louis appears, he is bundled up. A pair of woolen pajama pants cover his legs, and he's wearing a beanie and thick cable-knit sweater, a sweater I recall purchasing him. "Morning," he grins, sliding across the floor in his unmatched socks; one is pink and the other is orange.