Your Name is Tattooed on my Heart || L.S

Chapter Two

Louis awoke with a note taped to his forehead. This was not the first time. It said:

TAKE THE RUBBISH OUT LOU I MEAN IT!!!!

Louis crumbled it up and threw it across his room. It landed on a pile of dirty laundry, which wasn’t surprising, considering the entire floor was littered with piles of clean or dirty clothes.

He would’ve known who wrote the note even if he hadn’t gotten countless similar ones before, ordering him to take out the rubbish or wash his dishes or any of the things Liam always tried to get him to do that Louis never did until he was threatened with dismemberment. He had two great flatmates: Niall, the laid-back Irishman, and Liam, the one who made sure they paid rent on time and split the housework fairly.

It was absolutely his turn to take out the rubbish and Louis absolutely didn’t feel like it. He trudged to the bathroom and took a quick shower, threw on clothes, and sat at the kitchen table to scarf down some cornflakes before he had to leave for university.

Niall came in and caught him putting his dirty bowl in the sink. “You better clean that.”

“I was,” Louis lied, turning on the tap to rinse it quickly, then set it in on the drying rack.

“Empty the bin,” Niall said. “Liam’s gonna lose it if you leave it another day.”

“I’ll do it when I get back,” Louis said, slipping his messenger bag over his shoulder.

“Do it now, Lou,” Niall nagged. “It’ll take two minutes.”

Louis sighed but acquiesced, taking the overflowing bag of rubbish out of the bin and replacing it with a new one. “Walk me to the skip?” he pleaded, making a sad face that was more ridiculous than anything but usually worked.

Niall sighed and grabbed his rucksack, locking the door behind them. When he’d moved to London to attend university two years ago, Louis had met Niall and Liam at the tea shop where they all worked, and before long they were renting a modest two-bedroom flat together. Niall technically shared Liam’s room, but he usually slept on the sofa. Louis paid a bit more in rent, and it’s not that he would have minded sharing a room; it was that no one wanted to share with him. Louis was a slob, and his room was at best a tip and at worst a biohazard.

They went ‘round the back of the building so Louis could toss the rubbish, and on their way back they saw a removal lorry pulling into the car park.

“New neighbour,” Niall said as they headed down the street to the nearest bus stand. “I saw him the other day, checking out the flat next to ours.”

“How old?” Louis asked.

“Our age,” Niall said.

“What’s he look like?” Louis wasn’t strictly gay but close enough, and had broken up with his last boyfriend ten weeks ago. Since then, he’d been playing the field and trying to convince himself it was fun, but the truth was that he hated being single.

“Elvis, kind of,” Niall shrugged.

“Fat Elvis or fit Elvis?” Louis said.

“Not fat,” Niall said, and Louis smirked. Niall was straight, and totally comfortable with having queer flatmates, but he could be silly about little things, like referring to another guy as fit.

“So fit Elvis, then?” Louis persisted, because he was Louis and he liked to poke. “Is he hot? If you were into guys, would you bang him?”

“Geez, Lou,” Niall laughed, shaking his head ruefully.

“Okay, would I bang him?” Louis relented, only because he really wanted to know.

“Like your standards are so high,” Niall teased.