"You've been sleeping for ages," wakes him up, a faint whine in Perrie's voice. "Get up, Zayn. I want to do something. I want to shop."
Liam groans, turning over. "Sleeping," he mumbles, trying to keep his eyes shut. "Shh."
"Don't you shush me," she warns. "I'll push you right out of that bed, so help me—"
"Okay, okay." Liam sits up, running a hand through his hair. "I'm up."
"Good. Now out of bed." She drops a pile of clothing on top of him. "I've already got a car ready for us, and I checked out the directions to a few shops I really want to go to." She pauses, a winning grin on her face as she holds out her arms. "How do I look, by the way?"
Liam frowns and tries to focus his eyes. She's in some pair of extremely short shorts and a tank topish, flowy shirt that nearly passes the hemline of them. "Uh, great," Liam mumbles. "You look — yeah. Good." He lifts up his thumb and wipes at his eyes with his freehand.
Perrie makes a tisking sound with her tongue. "Oh, whatever," she sighs. "Just get out of bed, yeah? I've already got you an outfit ready. Hurry up."
"What time is it?" Liam asks as he gets out of bed.
"Eleven."
Damn. Apparently sleeping in is something Liam inherited when he inhabited Zayn's body. He never sleeps in this late, not unless he's sick or seriously hung over.
Liam reaches for the pile of clothing on the bed, finding an assortment of clothes that belong to everyone. There's a pair of Zayn's jeans, those socks definitely belong to Harry, Niall's t-shirt, and one of Louis' beanies. He doesn't remember stealing all those things from the others, but he figures he must have. Zayn ran out of clothes days ago, and he hasn't had time (or energy) to go shopping to get something proper to wear.
Liam sighs and starts undressing, until Perrie lets out a squawk. "What're you doing?" she demands, covering her eyes. "No one wants to see that, you sicko."
He just— "What?"
"Ugh, penises," Perrie groans. "I really don't understand the way the male anatomy works. They're like those little breakfast sausages when they're all limp and uncut and— ew." She shudders. "Go in the bathroom if you're taking everything off."
Liam gathers up the clothes in confusion, heading into the bathroom. He frowns at the mirror, as if Zayn's reflection can give him some sort of explanation, because Zayn himself definitely hadn't, and Perrie isn't going to. But, just like the real Zayn, he's absolutely silent in the wake of Liam's confusion, so Liam sighs again and starts undressing. (And he sneaks a peak, just to see, but Zayn is cut and it doesn't look anything like a breakfast sausage, okay?)
But why would she protest to him changing in front of her? That doesn't make any sense. A lot of things don't make any sense.
Liam dresses slowly, dragging it out, splashing water onto his face and brushing his teeth when he's done. When he comes out, Perrie's perched on the freshly made bed, adjusting the headband in her hair as she flips through her phone. "Took you long enough," she complains. "The car's been here for five minutes."
"Sorry," Liam says. "Um. Should we ask the others if they want to come?"
"No," Perrie says as she stands. "Just us for now, yeah? Let me have just an hour or two alone with my best friend, please."
She's pouting, is the thing. It's fairly effective, what with the perfectly pink lips and the wide blue eyes and the batting of her heavy eyelashes. "Okay."
Liam throws a single, stressed look at his phone, desperate to grab it and send Zayn a text to come with them, but Perrie's grabbing his arm, tugging him out of the room, and he doesn't have time. She keeps her arm linked firmly in his the whole way down to the lobby, like she's expecting him to run, and she doesn't drop it to link their fingers together until they're in view of the large glass entrance and the people waiting out front.
A member of their security is waiting for them in the vehicle, unsurprisingly. Liam slides into his seat, Perrie climbing in after him, and does up his seatbelt before looking out the window, watching the people outside through the tinted glass. That's how he spends the whole drive, while Perrie happily chats up the driver and their security guy. She's ridiculously bubbly and cheerful to everyone, and Liam's never met anyone (aside from Niall) who can befriend anyone, at any time, so easily.
"Come on," she says half an hour later, shoving a few pieces of clothing at him. They're in some small, local clothing shop with more manikins than Liam's ever seen in such a small place, and ridiculously high prices for clothes almost identical to something he could buy for a fraction of their cost anywhere less private. "Go try it on."
Liam groans. They've only just started shopping, technically, but it feels like they've been at it for hours. "I don't—"
"Liam would like it," Perrie teases, waggling her eyebrows. "So go try it on."
"What— what does that have to do with anything?" Why would him liking it persuade Zayn into trying something on?
Perrie shoves him forcibly into a changing stall. "Just try it on," she orders. "Stop complaining."
So Liam does, with the hopes that obeying will get her to back off, and maybe they can head back to the hotel soon. He's hungry, bored, irritated, and he wants to be with Zayn, not with her. So he pulls off his own shirt, tugs on the one she'd handed to him. He's not sure what's so special about it, it's just a simple black printed t-shirt, but.
"Happy?" Liam asks as he comes out.
"Oh, that looks great on you," Perrie compliments. "Definitely get it."
"Okay." Liam goes back inside the change room and works on getting back into his own clothes.
"Speaking of Liam," she says as he does, door of the change room between them, and Liam pauses, tensing a little. "How are you two, by the way? You didn't really say last time we chatted."
"Uh. We're good?"
"I take that to mean you're both still completely stupid," she sighs.
"Um." What? The more she talks, the more confused Liam gets. It's starting to really bother him. "I guess."
"Boys," Perrie scoffs. "Boys and their stupid inability to talk about or own up to their stupid feelings. You're both annoyingly daft."
Liam comes out of the change room, door banging loudly against the wall. "Can we go?" he snaps. He wants to be back at the hotel. He wants to pull Zayn aside and demand answers to all the questions he has. "I don't want to shop."
Perrie looks marginally taken back by the heat in his words. "Okay," she says. "Yes, we can — Sorry. I know I shouldn't have brought it up." She lowers her gaze, scuffs the sole of her hightops against the ground. "I know how you are about it, and I shouldn't have pushed. I apologize."
And now Liam feels guilty. "No, it's not you," he says quickly, and it's not, or not completely anyways. "I'm just tired and cranky."
Her happy smile is back so fast Liam nearly gets whiplash. "I know," she says. "Just give me ten minutes to pick something out, yeah? You can wait in the car. I'll be fast." She tugs the shirt from his grip. "And I'll get this one for you."
"Alright." Liam lets her wave him off, heading for the car, where he sits for the next half hour, impatience growing by the second. Finally she comes out, weighed down by bag after bag. How had she had time to try all that on? Fucking Christ, Liam will never understand women. "Ready to go?"
"Yep," she says pleasantly. "I'll show you what I got when we get back. You should see this pair of shorts I got. They're gorgeous. And this pair of wedges that—"
Liam tunes it out.
*