Hey everyone, how you doin'? You doing good? I'm doing good. Well, here is the longest chapter I have written so far, and I hope you all like it.
Enjoy(:
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Chapter 7
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"Zayn Malik!" I scream as my teeth begin to chatter obnoxiously. I spring off my now soaked bed and grab a fluffy pillow that was narrowly missed by the attack, chucking it at my best mate that I currently have the desire to murder. He blocks my attack with the empty bucket that was previously filled with ice and water. I squeal and grab at the back of my trousers where a rather large ice cube makes its way down my leg. "You're dead," I threaten a snickering Zayn.
Setting down the bucket on his dresser, Zayn chuckles, "I just wanted to make sure you were awake so I could tell you I'm going to be out all day."
I rip off my drenched clothes and pull on some blue trousers and a green top. "Yeah? Where are you going? You know, other than Hell," I give him a look that lets him know that he will pay for his rude awakening and strip my bed, piling all the blankets, sheets, and pillow cases at the end of the mattress.
Zayn pulls a sweater over his head, pulling down his quiff which quickly pops back into place, making me snigger. "You know that Liam bloke from the party? Well, when you were tuckered out yesterday, I ran into him at the cafe. We got to talking and now we're going to go to the gym then lunch. I'm not really sure of anything past that, but Liam's an organized fellow, he probably has a lot of activities ready."
"Alright, well you go have fun. I'll spend my Sunday doing my laundry and homework. These Physics concepts are difficult."
"Sounds good. Sunday is officially laundry day of the term. I'll see you later, Lou." Zayn places a sloppy kiss on my cheek then flees the room before I can even think of getting back at him.
"Tosser!" I shout at the closed door. I shake my head fondly. Zayn may be a mischievious prick, but he's my mischievous prick, as possessive as that sounds. I gather all my dirty laundry in my arms and spend a good three minutes fumbling with the door knob, unable to get a grip on it without dropping any laundry. "Finally," I sigh in relief when I hear the click of the door opening. I don't have as hard of a time closing the door and I am soon on my way to the laundry department just outside the dorms.
Someone takes pity on me when I reach the laundromat and opens the door for me, holding it in place so I can slip through. "Thank you," I call out to my faceless helper. I peer over my laundry in search of an open washing machine. Toward the wall opposite me, I spot one, directly to the right of a certain slim brunette.
I dump my clothes in the washer and throw some detergent in as well before starting the machine and turning to the person to my left who it delicately flipping through a Vogue magazine, sitting gracefully atop the washer, "Hey, El."
Eleanor pauses mid-page flip and lowers the magazine to meet my eyes with a cold stare. "Louis." Her tone is icier than her eyes. She brings the magazine back up to block her face from my view - and vice versa - and continues to casually flip through the magazine.
Rolling my eyes with an exasperated sigh, I hop up on my washer as well to sit by her. "El, I think we should talk. About the other night."
"Is that so?" Another page flip.
Another exasperated sigh, "Come one, El, please? You can't ignore me forever." Unless this is you finally figuring out you're too good for me and breaking up with me. Perhaps Stan was right and we can't even last a year.
When Eleanor doesn't respond, I tap her foot with mine. She just flips another page. Bumping my shoulder against hers, I warn playfully, "Oh, Eleanor. Ignoring me only makes this a bit of a challenge. And I don't like losing." I creep my hand around her back and attack her waist with tickling fingers, smiling in victory when she starts laughing and leans back against me, even if it's just to get away from my attacking phalanges.
"Okay, okay!" She gasps around her laughter and I immediately cease the tickling, but leave them resting on her waist. She doesn't move from her position of leaning against my chest either. "Yeah, we'll talk.
"Great," I kiss the top of her head. "We'll go to my room when we've finished laundry, yeah?"
She nods just as her washing machine buzzes. She quickly hops onto the floor, tossing her magazine in my lap. She gathers her wet clothes and crosses the laundromat to the dryers with a knowing smirk thrown my way.
I lean back on my hands, a content smile stretching across my lips. Soon, this big mess will be all behind me, in the furthest corner of my mind. It was all just a big accident and misunderstanding. Eleanor will return to being my loving girlfriend; Zayn will continue to be my goofy roommate and partner in crime; and Harry...will go back to where he belongs in my mine: Gone.
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Once our laundry is finally finished, Eleanor and I go our separate ways; she goes to her room to put away her laundry and I go to my room to put my own laundry away and make my bed. Taking a look around the room, I notice all of Zayn's clothes are strewn around the room. Seeing my opportunity, I pick up all of his trousers off the floor and slip them under the mattress if his unmade bed. I open his dresser and pull out all of his trousers and shove them under his mattress as well.
I spend a good fifteen minutes making sure my prank isn't noticeable before I hear a knock at the door followed by the call of my name. I hurriedly toss the rest of Zayn's dirty laundry in the corner before opening the door. "Hey, El."
"Hey, Lou," Eleanor winks, letting herself in. She sits down at the foot of my bed, pushing a lock of wavy brown hair behind her ear, keeping her eyes downcast.
I frown, not having realized until now just how nervous she is about the impending conversation. I sit on my bed beside her and gently grab one of her hands out of her lap. "El," I say softly, almost a whisper, "why would you get that kid arrested when you saw him make peace with Zayn?"
Eleanor's bottom lip trembles, but her voice doesn't waver as she answers, "The same reason I told you the other night." She turns her head to look me in the eyes, her own wide and cautious. "You scared me, Lou. I didn't know why you were freaking out so terribly that night. I thought for sure you were pissed at him, and I thought it would make you feel better if he was being rightfully punished."
Eleanor's lower lip continues to tremble and I desperately want to kiss it to make it stop, but I know I can't yet. I have to make her see why what she did was so wrong. To distract myself from her lip, I stroke the back of her hand and explain, "I really appreciate the thought, El-" as fucked up as it was "-but this is where you and I differ. I don't want to see people punish after things have been righted. Yes, I know I was a bit...out of control after the incident, but it was something I had to get over in my own time." Lying to her is just as bad as lying to Zayn. "Understand?"
Eleanor nods and looks at the carpet, "I guess I should apologize to him, then, huh?"
"Yeah," I whisper, putting my fingers under her chin and turning her head to face me. "You should." I close the distance between us finally and kiss her soft, plump lips. Her arms wrap around my neck and one of mine goes around her waist, pulling her closer, and the other one cradles the back of her head. She shifts around until she's sitting on my lap, legging clad legs straddling my waist, her hands running through my hair and making trails down my chest.
We fall back on my bed and I immediately roll over, taking control and pinning her to the bed as my hands wander down her body. She grips the hem of my shirt and pulls it over my head, tossing it somewhere on the floor. Her hands slide up and down my back, her nails digging into my skin, making me growl into the kiss. Those soft lips move to my earlobe and she whispers seductively, "Let's give you a reason to wash the sheets again."
I pull on the hem of her shirt, slowly riding it up when a knock sounds at the door. I break the kiss and look over at the door. Why is someone here? Eleanor wraps a hand around the back of my neck and lowers me to meet her lips again. My fingers catch the bottom of her shirt again and I slide it over her head, my hands returning to her waist.
Another knock sounds at the door, a bit louder this time. I pull away from Eleanor again and glare at the door. Why are they still here? Eleanor brings my head down by hers and whispers in my ear as I watch the door, "Just ignore them. They'll go away."
I turn and capture her lips with mine, placing one hand on the bed and the other on her thigh as her legs wrap around my waist. Her hands trace agonizingly slow down my chest until they reach my trousers. Her hands fumble expertly with the button and zipper, slowly pulling my trousers down.
Before I can help her with my trousers, the knocking at the door starts up again, loud and consistent. Whoever is there knows someone's in here.
I groan and climb off Eleanor, standing next to the bed and fixing my trousers, hoping my growing boner isn't too noticeable. Eleanor sits up with a baffled expression on her face. "Are you honestly going to answer the door? Right now?"
Sighing, I run a hand down my face as the pounding at the door continues. "El, they're not going to go away. I'm just going to see what they want and get rid of them. Five minutes, babe, I promise." I seal my words with a kiss and stalk to the door. I open it just enough to stick my head out so they can't see my topless girlfriend. "What do you need?"
It's only then do I realize I'm aiming my question at a defined collar bone. My eyes trail up to meet the unmistakable green eyes of the ghost of my past. His normally pale cheeks have taken a pink tint and he scratches the back of his head awkwardly. "I, erm, uh, just wanted to apologize. You know, for what you, uh, overheard last night."
"Is that so?" I quote Eleanor, sliding through the door and closing it behind me. I stand before the intruder and cross my arms over my bare chest, wishing I had thought to put on my shirt as a cool breeze drifts down the hall from the open door at the end of the hall.
His eyes glance down at my bare chest and his cheeks darken. Then they reach the tent in my pants and his face becomes the color of a beet, his green irises quickly sinking to the floor. A smirk touches my lips, glad that I'm making him uncomfortable because he couldn't wait to apologize. Same old gentleman as he was before the accident, apparently. "Err, yeah," his eyes leave the carpet and meet mine. I pretend the color doesn't take my breath away; the green orbs that have seen so many of the things I have, but don't remember. My breath come back when he turns his eyes to the wall by my door, "But I can see I interrupted something. We'll just talk later."
He turns to leave and I call out quickly, "Wait." He slowly spins to face me again. I slouch a bit, my hip jutting out to the side, and watch as Harry's eyes dart to the bare skin, a quick lick of his lips. Damn. When did he become so horny? "You already disturbed my, uh...activity, so you might as well make it worth while."
"Right..." He looks down at his feet for a moment before meeting my gaze again with a look in his eyes that I can't quite name. "I'm sorry about what you heard last night. Niall was just-"
"Expressing his opinion about 'the crazy guy'?" I finish, forming air quotes with my fingers before crossing my arms again.
He gives me a look before continuing as if I hadn't said anything. "Niall was just wound up from the long day and needed someone to blame-"
"So he chose the guy that looks at you funny?" I question, hiding my smirk at Harry's irritation.
"So he chose the guy that keeps appearing in these situations. I'm not saying any of this is your fault, I'm just saying Niall doesn't trust you because he doesn't know you."
A small flutter of hope sparks in my stomach, but I don't allow it to show on my face, instead keeping a bored expression plastered on my features, "And you do?"
Harry's cheeks flame up again. "No! I, uh, just believe what you said-"
"That you're alive? Good to know you know the state of your being." I interrupt snarkily.
"God, would you let me apologize?" Harry nearly shouts.
"Have you seen my hat?" I ask, searching under my bed after I heard Harry enter my bedroom. I shove around dirty socks then use one to squish a spider that dared to crawl in front of my face. "I need it or my mum won't let me go skiing with you guys." I move over a binder I'm sure holds the essay I lost last month that lowered my grade.
I give up searching under my bed and get to my feet, glancing past Harry as my eyes circle the room for my hat. "Are you talking about the dark red one?" Harry wonders, voice cracking twice in the sentence. Oh, the perks of going through puberty.
Nodding, I move on to my closet and rifle through the clothing that fell on the floor into a big pile. "Yeah, yeah. Have you seen it?" Before Harry can answer, I give up on my closet and open my bedroom door. "Mum?" I shout. "Have you seen my hat?"
"Is it in your dresser?" she calls back. I close the door and spring to my dresser, pulling open drawer after drawer in search of my precious beanie. "Lou, I think-"
"I bet I accidentally threw it in the wash," I speak over Harry, quickly leaving the room only to come back minutes later empty handed. "Nope, it wasn't there or in the dryer. Dammit, I really need my hat. I've never been skiing and I really want to try it. I wonder if my mum will let me go if I wear a scarf around my head," I think out loud, dropping to all fours to search under my bed again.
"Lou, it's-"
"The hamper!" I flip over the bin that holds all my clothes in need of cleaning. I search through the dirty laundry desperately. I go through the clothes a total of four times before I come to an abrupt halt when I get hit in the back of the head.
I peek over my shoulder and there sits my maroon beanie on the flor directly behind me. My eyes glance up to Harry on my bed who has his arms crossed and a stern expression painting his face, "If you had let me speak, you would have known it was under your pillow."
I uncross my arms and rest my hand on my door knob. "No. I don't need you apologizing for your friend. If you're sorry, then admit it. If he's sorry, then he should be in your place apologizing. Until it gets sorted, I have some business to attend to. Ciao." Before Harry can so much as open his mouth, I've slipped into my room and am met face to face with Eleanor who looks fairly unimpressed. "El, it's-"
"Save it, Tomlinson," Eleanor holds up a hand in my face then moves around me to leave, scolding over her shoulder, "I'm sick of you putting that curly haired brat before me. Call me when you get your priorities straight."
The door slams behind her with finality. "Great," I mumble to myself, plucking my shirt off the floor and sliding it on over my head. "Just made up with Eleanor and now she's pissed at me again." I take a look at my mostly clean room, deciding instantly I don't want to wallow in self pity in my lonely dorm and will instead go get lunch at the cafe.
Strolling down the hall, I hear someone fall into step with me, but I pay them no mind, already knowing who it is. "I see you've completed your 'activity,' " a deep voice rumbled next to me.
I stop dead in my tracks and cross my arms, watching the boy who turns to face me with a half smile on his face through narrowed eyes. "Were you waiting for me?"
Harry laughs, throwing his head back, and the familiarity of the action pangs in my chest, bringing the corners of my lips down into a frown. "Don't flatter yourself," Harry answers once he's regained his composure. "I was headed back to my room when I heard a door slam and saw your cousin-"
"Girlfriend," I correct immediately baffled.
"Whatever," he waves it off and I cross my arms tighter, glaring at this person that is so unlike who he used to be. "She was stomping from your room and I figured you couldn't be far behind."
I tilt my head to the side and accuse, "So you were waiting for me?"
Harry shrugs nonchalantly and I'm surprised to see his cheeks don't fill with color. He's like a different person that he was five minutes ago. Then, he was awkward and uncomfortable, stumbling over his words. Now, he's confident and arrogant, watching me like I'm the prey to some sort of game he's playing. "I still want to talk to you."
"Well, I don't want to listen," I snap, striding past him, hoping he'd pick up the not-so-subtle hint and leave me alone. But from what I can pick up from this new Harry, he's persistent and isn't used to being rejected in any way, so I'm not surprised when he's walking by my side half a second later. "God, what do you want?"
"To invite you to my friend's party next Friday," Harry says bluntly, changing the topic drastically. I glance at him, suspicious. There must be some sort of hidden agenda. "And why's that?"
"So we can get past our little arguments and misunderstandings." Of course. Now he's trying to buy my forgiveness. Harry faces me with a cocky half smile on his lips that I've never seen before. Wow, this guys really isn't my old best friend. I guess he really did die in the car accident.
"Because he might as well have died," my mother's words ring in my head and I cringe, finally seeing the truth in them. This boy I'm walking next to not only doesn't know me, but I don't know him. The realization is a sharp slap in the face and I have to stop walking. I brace my hand on the wall and double over, putting my other hand on my knee to keep myself up as my breathing becomes shallow and ragged.
"Whoa, are you okay?" A large, warm hand spreads across nearly my entire lower back, and I see an almost unfamiliar face in my peripheral vision. Seeing those chocolate curls has my breathing become even more erratic and I squeeze my eyes shut, blocking the boy from my sight, though he still remains in my view on the back of my eyelids. "Hey, calm down," a deep voice instructs softly, the hand on my back moving in light, comforting circles. "Take deep breaths. In, out."
I do as I'm told and before long, my breathing returns to a normal pace. My eyes flutter open and when I catch sight of those concerned, green eyes, my stomach crawls up my throat, and I suddenly feel very sick. I clench my eyes shut but bring myself to a standing position, keeping one hand on the wall and covering my mouth with other, praying I won't spill my insides on the carpet.
The hand doesn't leave my back, but another one presses itself against my forehead. "You look awfully pale, but you don't have a fever. Here, I'll take you back to your room." The hand slithers from my back to my waist and I subconsciously lean into the warm body holding me upright, the arm that was against the wall falling limp at my side.
I force myself to move my hand and take a cleansing breath while keeping my eyes shut tight. "No, it's fine, I'm fine. I can go back on my own." But even to my own ears, my voice sounds weak and without fight.
"Nonsense," Harry responds easily, turning me slowly so we're walking back up the hall. Although my eyes remain closed, I can tell that we're walking extremely slow by my snail-paces, small footsteps. With every step, I keep my bile down and take deep breaths through my nose, not daring to move my hand from my mouth again.
Eventually, Harry whispers against my earlobe, "Where are your keys?" With my free hand, I slip my keys out of my pocket and hold them out in front of me for Harry to take. I head the clicking noises of slipping the key into the lock, turning the key, opening the door, and removing the key.
I'm guided across the room after Harry closes the door behind us and he re-positions his arms around me to lie me in bed. As he pulls the blankets up to cover me completely, he says softly, "I'm assuming this bed is yours based on the picture of you and five girls on your nightstand."
In the comfort of my bed, I feel sleep pulling at my senses and I feel it's safe to remove my hand from my mouth even though I hear Harry's voice again, "Um, I'm not entirely sure if I should stay or leave or what." The springs on the other bed creak. "I think I'll stay just to make sure you're okay until your roommate returns." The sound of movement from the other bed fills my ears, but surprisingly, I don't mind. "I think I'll read this while I wait for Zayn to get back. It's called The Perks of Being a Wallflower. Oh, I've heard this is a good movie." Silence for about five seconds before, "You're already asleep, aren't you? Wow, people would think I'm weird if they saw that I've been talking to someone that's sleeping for the past minute and still doing so. I really hope you're asleep so you don't think I'm a freak. Yeah, I'm weird. I'm just going to read now. Sleep well."
A small smile graces my lips as I finally fall into a peaceful slumber. Yeah, the kid may be very different from who I used to know, but he's still really strange.