Chapter 3

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Monday 27, April

Their room lit up the minute the sun rose. Sunlight warmed the wooden floors and caused Harry's organized jewelry collection to glimmer on top of their shared chest of drawers. The air conditioner kicked on and blew at the open curtains, the gentle hum of cool air teasing over any bare skin not covered by the heavy duvet.

Harry breathed in through his nose and cuddled his bum backwards. Something warm and firm pressed against his back. He woke enough to realize that the arms wrapped around him were not his own. He had his own hands loosely curled on the mattress in front of his chest, Louis' palm flat on the top of his stomach.

His eyes moved beneath his lids but he kept his eyes shut, his lips pouting forward. He shifted his head back against his pillow, Louis' nose brushing the curve of his neck and shifting with him. He hummed and received an answering sleepy hum from Louis, Harry's pout curving up at the ends.

Harry started to drift back asleep, the air conditioning a perfect cool contrast with the beams of sunlight heating his bare shoulder. Louis made another sleepy hum, the sound growing louder and higher as his bare feet started to shuffle.

"Bloody hell. Again?"

Louis went to move but Harry's hand shot out, gripping his forearm. Louis licked his lips and croaked, "What?"

"Stay. Please?" Harry itched his feet together and crossed his ankles, cuddling his face against his pillow. "I'm comfortable like this."

Louis sighed.

"I suppose."

Louis settled down, half his sight line blocked by Harry's soft, wild hair. He blinked a few times, his eyes starting to focus on their sunlit room. He saw their pottery creations sitting on the windowsill. Harry's creation was a perfectly symmetrical candle votive painted purple with even, smooth strokes. His own creation was a lumpy green blob with a hole dug into it, a last ditch effort to make his lump of clay look sort of like Harry's votive. Harry declared it was the perfect vessel to hold keys and made no mention of its hideous appearance.

Louis smiled to himself, pressing his face against Harry's sweet vanilla skin.

"Are you ready for the Ziall-ympics?" Louis whispered, Harry humming deep in his throat and shifting back against him.

"Ready as I'll ever be." He stroked the bony top of Louis' hand, tracing around his knuckles, his tough light and teasing. "Are you?"

"Whenever there was a group activity that required partners, I usually paired up with one of my aunts, who are all certified senior citizens." Harry started to chuckle, Louis' smile widening. "We didn't care about winning. Just wanted to do it for fun. I don't care about winning today, either. I just want you--I mean, us. I just want us to have fun doing it."

Harry nodded, pulling Louis' arm up to his chest. He rested Louis' hand in the crook of his neck, snuggling against his arm.

"We'll have fun. Let's sleep. Ziall-ympians need their rest."

. . .

The itinerary for the Ziall-ympics said to meet on the beach directly after breakfast. Each pair who wished to compete was recommended to wear their swimsuit beneath whatever athletic clothes they preferred, plus trainers and plenty of sun cream. They would be in the sun all morning and afternoon, with a celebratory barbecue lunch immediately following the competition.

The official Ziall-ympics competition was for guests over the age of eighteen, but Niall and Zayn had also asked their crew to arrange a mini Ziall-ympics, which would be held for the little ones the following day so as not to leave anyone out.

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