Chapter 38, Hate Creation

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Hello! I may have forgotten to update yesterday because I was too busy being SEXY. 

anywayssss, here's a Saturday (Sunday) update!

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LOUIS POV




I should've expected the loud banging noises that would wake me up on Monday. With one day left to plan and get everything ready, everyone was up and moving by five in the morning, sometimes even earlier. I force myself out of bed with a groan, seeing Clifford already at my feet, ready to go. After I slip a shirt over my head and force myself into a pair of jeans, I strap my knife over my thigh and make a quick stop to the bathroom before I make myself known. I follow the noise, coming up to the room where we all met up and planned a few days ago. Everyone is sat around the table with plates in their laps or on the table, talking while they fit in their breakfast. I can see the papers that I printed from my journal are spread out, being studied by all of the others. A hand rests on my shoulder making me flinch, but when I see that it's just Connie, I relax and turn to smile at her. "Are you going with them tomorrow?" I nod, moving my body to face towards hers, seeing the worried face she's wearing. "I sure do hate it when they do things like this. I know it's expected of them, being gang members and all, but the second they walk out the door I feel like I'm going to have to plan a funeral soon. It gets my stomach in knots every time. I spend the day reading just so that I don't worry myself into a heart attack." I rub a hand up and down her arm, hoping it provides some sort of comfort as I say, "Well tomorrow will be easy. There's going to be about forty or fifty of us, and only fifteen of them at most. This is all just precautionary." The words must settle her a bit, because she nods and pats me on the back, wiping her hands on her apron as she leaves the hallway.



I decide to make myself known, walking into the room and plopping down in the rolling chair next to Luke and Nialls. I sit and listen to bickering and planning until I grow bored, already knowing every detail of the plan because I basically came up with it. I feel my stomach roll, reminding me that I need to eat, so I walk out of the room and head to the kitchen. When I'm met with clean, foodless counters, I sigh and make my way to the fridge but I stop short when I see the plate of food that's wrapped in plastic with a sticky note on it. I peek at it, smiling when I see that it's my name written on the paper. Picking it up, I hear a noise behind me so I turn and see Connie smiling at me. "Thank you for saving some for me, I didn't know that they would all be up so early." She shakes her head at me, not taking credit as she points at the wrapped food and says, "That wasn't me, dear. Although I did see Harry put something in the fridge earlier, but he scurried upstairs after that and put himself to work." She winks at me, telling me that she definitely knows something that I don't, which makes me blush. Harry saved food for me? I unwrap the plate, seeing that it's filled with food. Two eggs, a pile of bacon, two waffles and two pieces of toast. The eggs are stacked in a way that I would do it, making sure that the yolks were in a safe enough place to not get cracked, and everything is skillfully not touching, something I know Harry wouldn't worry about if it was his plate. How does he know how I arrange my plate? Does he watch me do that? Am I that obvious? 


The thought of him watching me enough to know how I plate my food should creep me out, but the way my heart speeds up at his attention to detail proves that it's not spooked that I feel. I stick the plate in the microwave, leaning against the counter while I wait for the beep. After that, I go into the dining room by myself and eat alone, planting myself in Harry's chair for the hell of it. After eating in silence, I make my way back to the kitchen and wash my dish before I pat myself down and locate my cigarettes, finding Clifford already waiting at the backdoor when I go to open it and let myself out. After he's out and running around in the grass, I sit on the wooden steps that lead to where he is, fishing my lighter out of the pack along with a cigarette, lighting it up as I think about tomorrow. I run over the plan, cursing when I realize what I forgot. I stub out my cigarette against the bottom of my shoe before sticking it into the bucket on the porch filled with other used cigarette filters, texting Oli as I head back inside and down the hallway to find Harry.

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