The Maid For Styles

Chapter 76

as i've explained before, this story is set in 2014, yet they're a year younger than usual--eg: harry was (kill me now he's 21 omg) 20 in 2014, but in this story, he's actually 19. this applies to all the boys. --sorry for any typos, im too tired to fix them rn--

Chloe's POV

"Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birth-"

"Why the fuck are we singing Happy Birthday when he's not even here to celebrate his own birthday?"

"Uhm, maybe because he wanted to see family and we can celebrate it for him, without him."

"That's fucking stupid. You can't have a party without the person it's for."

"Shut your trap, Louis, and just fucking sing."

"Happy Birthday, dear Liam. Happy Birthday to you!"

Louis did have a valid point, but it was Liam's birthday, and although he'd decided it would be nice to visit his family on his special day, we still figured we'd be decent human beings and celebrate his birthday for him. So, there on the kitchen bench sat a large chocolate mud-cake, with approximately twenty candles sticking out the top of it, lit and ready to be blown out, in honor of the birthday boy.

"Dibs on blowing out the candles!" Niall bellowed, and before anyone had the chance to say anything, his lungs were filled with air, before every single candle that adorned the cake was stripped of its light.

"Well, who want Niall Horan spit with a tad chocolate cake?" I asked, wincing as I watched the spit fly from his mouth and land on the once perfectly hygienic icing.

"Hey," Niall frowned.

Deep chuckles echoed inside the confines of the kitchen as I grabbed a large knife and cut deep into the middle of the cake. A small 'clink' filled our ears when the knife hit the bottom of the plate that the cake sat on, and without warning, I was startled by a loud yell from Louis.

"Ah, ah! You touched the bottom! You have to kiss the nearest boy," Louis grinned, shooting me a sly smirk.

"Jesus Christ, Louis. What are we? Twelve?" I asked, placing a hand over my chest as I tried to calm my rapid heartbeat down.

"Well, no, but I like this game. And, seeing as Niall is technically the closest to you, your lips have to be on his within ten seconds," Louis' smirk deepened, as I looked down to check the distance between Niall and myself, and sure enough, Louis was right. Harry had only managed to be a couple of centimeters off, but Louis' technicality wouldn't allow him to take Niall's place.

"Absolutely not," Harry's husky voice growled, his arms reaching out to pull me against his chest. "No."

"Rules are rules," Louis shrugged. "You've got five seconds and counting."

"Louis, no," Harry's voice deepened immeasurably, and although we were joking, I knew somewhere inside him the jealousy and seriousness was bubbling, waiting for the right time to explode.

"Four--"

"Shut your trap, Louis," Zayn muttered, slapping his hand over Louis' mouth.

"Three," Louis managed to speak, muffled from the weight of Zayn's hand.

"Nothing will happen if I don't kiss him anyway, Harry," I whispered into his ear when I felt his muscles tense to the point where I knew if that was me, I would've been rolling on the ground in agony, with a cramp.

"He's such a tool," Harry muttered, leaning down to kiss the base of my neck, making me smile.

"Time's up!" Louis shrieked, pushing Zayn's hand away. "You lost and now you have to run around the house naked."