17 Black

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I've gotten some really sweet comments asking about me and wondering why I haven't updated in a while, and I am so sorry that I haven't been nearly as active lately as usual. I'm really busy with districts and with the end of school coming up and family stuff, but I'm writing as much as I can in my free time and hopefully will get more time to write as the chaos dies down. All I have to say is I love u guys sm and I'm fricking amazed at how unbelievably far you've helped me come in this so thank you so much ❤️

-Bella
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"No, Zayn, he's just laying there. I don't know what to do."

"Y...yeah he's been sleeping for, like, twelve hours. Should I wake him up or something?"

"Yeah, I called in his absence for school. I had to pretend to be his uncle."

"Alright, yeah, y--no, I haven't, Zayn, have you gone mad?"

"Just because he's in my bed doesn't mean I'm going to make a move on him, you fucking idiot."

"I don't wanna hear it, nope. Bye, Z."

Louis knows he's eavesdropping, but he can't help it, really. He just happened to wake up whilst Harry was apparently in the midst of a phone conversation with a "Zayn". Plus, it's like, common knowledge not to talk about someone on the phone when they're in the same room as you, sleeping or not. Bottom line, Louis decides he is going to act like he didn't hear a word and play it safe. But what was that about making a move on him? And why did said "Zayn" (who names their kid Zayn anyway? Like, totally not a completely awesome name. Psh.) feel the need to bring it up to Harry? Had it been a previously discussed topic, possibly? Or maybe it was simply a perverted joke. Louis bets it was. He bets Zayn is a pervert, too. He sounds like one.

Louis hears the electronic click that identifies the turning off of a phone and lays motionlessly there some more, with his nose in the pillow and his body drowning in the fluffy blankets, trying not to appear like he's awake. He can feel that his hair is a mess since its touching areas on his face it usually doesn't, and he's suddenly very aware that he's sleeping in his coach's bed who, not to mention, he's fancied since the season started, and that Harry's watching him sleep. He becomes suddenly self conscious, before he remembers something else. That Harry's actually put his hands on Louis before, lifted him into his arms like he's weightless, pushed him against a locker and actually addressed Louis' attraction for him, brought up the topic of their lips meeting and touched his hair and took such good care of him when he was hurt, and everything overwhelms Louis all at once, and he fights back shivers just at the memories. He realizes how far this situation has gotten, and also realizes that it's mostly all his fault for letting it get to that point--the point where he's literally sleeping in his coach's bed. It's so illegal. He's surprised to find that his opinion about that matter is neutral.

There's a soft sigh from somewhere above and next to the bed, and Louis can just picture the crease between Harry's eyebrows, the quirk in his lips as he does it and the hand that is most positively running through his hair at that moment. After that, he can hear footsteps pad out of the room, and he waits a second before blowing out an exhale of his own. What does he do now? Get up, stroll into Harry's kitchen and say, "Hey, thanks for letting me sleep over, we should do it again sometime!" He eyes the huge ass window on the wall adjacent to him. Maybe he could, like, sneak out that huge ass window and quit the team and move to America. Upon realizing that the options he is brainstorming are not very adequate ones, he just decides to go find Harry and let him do all of the "what's next" part.

Without thinking, he moves to turn onto his back and is again reminded of how he ended up in this situation in the first place as almost every muscle and bone in his torso screams in protest to the action. He lets out a small whimper and closes his eyes, willing himself not to cry again. He's concluded that for an adult, he's cried enough in the last twenty four hours. The next time he tries readjusting his position, he does it in small shuffles and is much more successful. Once he's sitting up against the headboard, he forgets why he even moved in the first place. He looks around.