Balance

Chapter 11

"1...2...3...4...and 5...6—Louis, can I go to bed now?" Zayn cut off his steady counting with a little whine, arms folding across his bare chest.  The raven-haired boy was sitting cross-legged on the couch in his pyjamas with Louis standing in front of him.  The dancer's hand was delicately placed on the portable barre he had dragged out to the living room, body poised in a stretch which he slackened when Zayn interrupted.

"I haven't even finished warm-ups yet," shot back Louis, giving his friend a withered look.  "I'm almost onto the routine, I swear."  His lips fell into a pleading pout, hands clasping beneath his chin.  Zayn let out a heaving sigh but settled back on the couch.

"I still don't see why you don't count for yourself," Zayn added with a fleeting glance at his wristwatch.  Louis let out a small whimper and Zayn shook his head.  "I know, I know," he amended, "you think you'll rush because of nerves or whatever."

Louis nodded, resuming his position at the barre, going through the slow systematic motions of preparation before nodding at his friend to begin.  Zayn, however, was not finished with his commentary.

"Maybe we should call Harry up and have him give you another one of those amazing massages," the brown-eyed boy grinned wickedly, "or at least hug you like he did at the end of your date.  You looked positively boneless."  Louis' mouth dropped open in shock and a slightly pink tint coloured his cheeks.

"Zayn!  Shut up!" he screeched, pose falling so he could launch himself at his roommate who had dissolved into a fit of laughter.  The small dancer ended up on Zayn's lap, fists pounding against his friend's chest, trying desperately to get him to stop laughing, despite having to fight off the need to join in himself.

Zayn's hands encircled Louis' wrists, pulling him back and smiling at the flustered boy.  "It's really cute though, Lou," he cooed, watching Louis' cheeks darken.

"It wasn't even a date," the smaller boy countered defensively, tipping his nose upwards with a huff.

"Sure," teased Zayn, "a meal at a beloved location with you and only you that he paid for was definitely not a date.  Sure."  Zayn tugged his friend closer for a cuddle.  Louis hesitated a second before giving in, letting his body meld against Zayn's contently. 

The other boy could feel the tension in Louis' muscles—a sign that this audition was taking its toll on the anxious dancer.  He hoped that the light joking would at least distract Louis enough to lessen that nervousness.

"You'll do fine, Lou.  If you get stressed, just think about your little crush," Zayn went on in a gush, lifting a hand to brush his friend's pink cheek with a gentle finger.  "Blushing like a schoolboy," the dark-haired boy added with a smirk. 

Louis groaned, tipping his face away from Zayn's hand and toward the ceiling in exaggerated distress.  It wasn't as though he could believably deny the colouring of his cheeks at the mentioning of the confusing skater boy.

"It's purely because he frustrates me," Louis explained, trying to work his hands out of Zayn's grip in order to get off his lap.  Zayn held tight, though, eyebrows waggling as though he knew something Louis didn't.

"When's your next date?  After your audition?" Zayn asked, completely ignoring Louis' denial.  Blue eyes narrowed his way and Zayn bit back a laugh.  "Think he'll be at your audition?"

Louis froze, not having even considered that option.  Of course, Harry wouldn't be in the room when Louis danced for his part; however, he probably would seek Louis out beforehand.  It seemed to be in his nature to appear at the most inopportune moments to fluster Louis.

Any time spent with the resident delinquent seemed to entirely throw Louis off, something he definitely didn't need moments prior to the most important routine of his dancing career to date.