Little Louder Now (Harry Styles/One direction fanfic)

Chapter 43: Reliable source

Happy Birthday Louis!

Betcha you guys thoughti was dead, huh?  No.  Just hurricane sandy stealing my electricity and water for two who friggin weekd (no shower for 2 weeks is not a pretty thing guys).  Then I had major surgery.  Wooo.  NOT.  But  I'm on the mend and I hope you enjoy.  Comments and votes are lovely.

p.s.- starting a new fanfic (it's Niall AWWWW) called the set up.  check it out if you get bored.

Chapter 43:  Reliable source

*Charlie's POV*

"Squirrels my left ass cheek," I mumbled to myself as I tidied Niall's room.  It was the day before tour and even though I had already pack all of my stuff days before, I was busy stuck packing Niall's shit.  I currently had three piles: stuff to take, stuff to leave, and a "what the fuck is this?" pile.  I didn't mind doing this for him because he was my boyfriend and I cared for him, but really, this guy is a slob.  Things would be so much easier if he didn't use his floor as a dumping ground.  Oh God.  Shoot me now.  I sound like my mother.

I looked over to Niall's bed where he was curled up in a ball, his chest rising and falling gently, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.  I sighed.  "Squirrels," I said frustratingly as I put his favorite pair of supras into the luggage.  I understand that all of the lads in One Direction are slightly odd.  Weird shit just seems to happen when they are all together.  I've been there.  I've witnessed things I would have thought impossible if I hadn't seen them myself.  It's just… squirrels?  Small fluffy animals attacked Harry's face and took out Niall's knee in force.  There was just something hinky about it all. 

I felt like I was being lied to and I didn't like it.  Did something so embarrassing happen that he thought I would laugh or judge him because of it?  I'd never do that but now I'm worried he feels like he can't trust me with things.  I bit my lip and chewed on the chapped skin while looking at two almost identical polos, deciding which one stays home and which one gets folded and put in the luggage.  This would be and easier task if Niall was awake to direct me on what he wanted with him and what needed to stay, but he was in a lot of pain and he was finally resting peacefully .  I didn't want to disturb that.  And now that I think about it, he might be more of a hinderance than a help with all his goofing off.

My mind wandered back to Niall's injury.  Did Harry and Niall get in a fight?  Harry's forehead had a lump and a small but deep nick in it, but you'd imagine that the damage between the two boys would be more extensive if there was a brawl.  Plus, Niall is not aggressive and neither is Harry.  I just couldn't imagine something happening that would cause things to come to blows.

So here I am, folding my boyfriend's boxers and contemplating the possibility of lethal squirrels.  Niall wouldn't lie to me.  Right?  All I know is that I am steering clear of those little furry bastards next time I'm at the park.

*Zayn's POV*

Nothing.  I've got nothing.  Simon is avoiding my calls and refuses to return my messages.  I'm considering stealing one of the other lads mobiles to try and talk to him.  He can't avoid me if he think it is Harry really calling.  I've tried calling Thalia but I bet you can imagine where that got me.  A big fat nowhere.  I'd seen pictures of her in magazines going to places like the grocery or the gym, trying to avoid the relentless paparazzi hounding her.  She looked as beautiful as the night I had met her, but I could tell all of this bullshit I had caused was really getting to her.  She seemed paler, thinner, and her hair didn't have that same kind of luster it did when we first met.  Dear God, help her some how.  Let her take the job.  Don't make her take it because I want to be with her, but because it's obvious she needs it.  She slipping and needs something good and strong that she use to help get her out of her obvious misery.