Balance

Chapter 5

Thursdays were usually the studio's calm day.  Typically, they would have a show that weekend and, therefore, the dancers would not be pushed too hard in order to preserve stamina.  However, with the announcement of this season's opening show nearing, the place was abuzz with anxious energy.

Louis took a sobering look in the remnants of the mirror in the dressing room.  Since the incident yesterday with the criminal boy, Louis had been a little on edge and it showed.

Zayn had managed to calm him down for the span of their conversation the night prior, but the moment Louis was lying in bed alone his mind was speeding.  He didn't get a lot of sleep and the bags under his eyes relayed this information to the outside world.

Part of his nerves that had his thoughts running had to do with Harry's role in the injuring of Louis' ankle so close to the dates when he'd be required to audition.  Knowing the next few days would be vital if he wanted a decent part in the production, an injury was not ideal.  

When Louis had woken up that morning, the joint was painfully stiff and still slightly swollen.  With a grimace, he had loosened the ligaments, wincing all the while.  It had taken an hour of hobbling around the flat before the dancer even felt comfortable putting his weight on the foot.

Bleary with sleep, Zayn watched his roommate preparing to leave, concern etched on his face.  He had spent the entirety of dinner convincing the blue-eyed lad that his ankle would be healed in a day, two tops.  Listening to the colourful string of expletives leaving Louis' lips, not for the first time that morning, however, Zayn was beginning to doubt his diagnosis.

"I'm off," the dancer groaned, leaning against the wall of their entryway.  His bag was slung haphazardly over his shoulder, hair still wet from a shower.  Zayn's eyes scanned over Louis' form skeptically.

"Forgetting something?" he reminded softly.

Louis' own gaze dropped to take in his form.  His feet were bare, injured limb held slightly off of the hardwood floors in a desperate attempt to baby it back to full health.  He sighed loudly, dropping his bag to the floor that let out a resounding clatter.

"Here, let me," Zayn offered, half standing from his position on the couch but Louis was shaking his head.

Trudging past Zayn and back to his room, Louis retrieved a pair of Toms.  He slipped his feet into the comforting fabric with a minuscule tensing of muscles.  At least he didn't have a penchant for military boots or anything that would further damage his ailing ankle.

Zayn was standing at the doorway, Louis' bag slung over his shoulder wordlessly.  He held in his hands a fresh apple and a filled water bottle.  When he saw Louis staring at him in confusion, Zayn's face cracked into a smile.

"Well, I've decided your wellbeing is more important than Psychology," Zayn shrugged as if it were the most obvious tidbit of information.  Louis rolled his eyes, mouth opening to complain; however, Zayn was faster and produced a cereal bar from some unseen pocket and had it slotted between Louis' lips before he could utter a syllable.

Louis' hands flew to hold the breakfast food, allowing Zayn to open the door and step outside.  His bite chewed and swallowed, Louis muttered a soft, "twat."  Zayn chuckled and the two left on their walk to the studio.  

The Bradford boy wouldn't admit it to his friend, but he was silently hoping for a glimpse of the supposed criminal mastermind Styles boy.  Not that he had a lot of time to scan his surroundings as with almost every step, Zayn's attention was drawn by Louis' gasps of shocking pain.

"You sure that foot is going to last the day?" Zayn voiced his worries to Louis' tut of disapproval.

"Gonna have to," the older lad whispered under his breath.  "The day after's always the worst.  It'll be feeling loads better tomorrow."