next to you ❀ l.s.

fifty one - steven-ding up for myself

Niall cursed as he knocked his knee against a sharp corner of the kitchen cabinets.

"Shh!" Louis hissed, shooting him a glare that pierced through even the thick darkness. "If you wake them up, Liam's going to lecture us until we die, and I am not planning on dying tonight."

Niall grinned, but he mouthed a silent "sorry" as he slipped his coat over his shoulders.

Louis shot him one last glare, briefly wondering if his angry eyes were even visible through the shadowy room. Then he crouched down beside the couch, his face softening into a fond smile when he looked at Harry. It had taken him almost five minutes to shimmy out from under his boyfriend's sleeping form without waking him; now, Harry was curled happily into his nest of blankets, one fist curled around the corner of the pillow where it would usually be bunching up the front of Louis's shirt.

He bent down to brush his lips over Harry's forehead. "I'll be right back, angel," he whispered against the younger boy's skin. "I love you."

Harry's fingers twitched, like even in sleep, he wanted to reach for Louis and pull him back. Louis kissed his boyfriend's forehead once more before following Niall out the door.

"Christ, it's cold," the Irish boy complained immediately.

"It's January," Louis replied, his comment short and snarky.

"Remind me why I'm doing this for you again?"

"You're not doing anything for me. You're doing it for Harry."

Niall tilted his head to the side, nodding in silent agreement. He knew the way to Steven's flat, and it wasn't more than a ten minute walk from Harry's apartment. The night air was cold and biting, wind nipping at their cheeks like it knew that they were walking into a bad scene.

"We should've brought Liam," he fretted as they approached the familiar building. He knew he should have pretended not to know where Steven lived when Louis asked. "At least he goes to the gym."

"I go to the gym," Louis scoffed, offended.

"Yeah, when you're procrastinating on your homework."

"I procrastinate very regularly, thank you very much!"

The Irish boy snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. "We're about to get pummeled," he muttered under his breath. Luckily, Louis didn't hear -- not that he would have cared.

"How do you even know where he lives?" the older boy asked as they entered the building. The lobby was surprisingly warm and bright, a sharp contrast to the harsh, late-winter winds that swept through the night outside.

"I used to drop Harry off here sometimes," Niall explained. "Not very often, but he met Steven right after we all became friends, so . . . maybe only five or six times total?"

"Good memory."

"It's this one," Niall said, stopping in front of an off-white painted door just off the lobby. "Do you think we should . . ?"

Louis marched up and banged forcefully on the door.

Niall shrugged hopelessly. "Yep. Alright. Or we could just do that."

When no response came for a minute, the door still looming and impenetrable before them, Louis knocked again, a bit harder this time. The hollow sound echoed through the lobby, and he glanced back at Niall, raising his eyebrows like "now what?"

"He's not here," Niall stated the obvious. He couldn't decide if he was disappointed or relieved.

Louis ran his fingers through his hair, sighing loudly. Adrenaline still coursed through his veins, high on the idea of passing justice in a situation where Harry wouldn't defend himself. And, to be fair, the guy did give Louis a mild concussion.