Unbelievers

Chapter 6

"How long have you been standing there?" Louis asks breathlessly, nothing else in his mind at that moment. Harry is still under him, eyes just as wide as Louis' and they're still locked in the same position.

"Long enough," Lottie says, looking a bit scarred. "Oh well, have fun... I'll just... get myself to school." Her voice sounds numb as she turns to leave the room, and Louis finally wakes up, springing into action. He pushes Harry roughly off of him, scrambling off the bed and runs after her.

"Lottie," he calls, half falling on his way through the door, slipping on the threshold. "Lottie." He finally catches her arm by the stairs just outside his room, heart beating in panic in his chest. She spins around, eyebrows raised. "Lottie, listen. You can't tell –"

"Was that really Harry Styles?" she hisses.

"Yes, but –"

"Do you top or bottom?"

"Lottie, Jesus!" he hisses frantically. "Keep your voice down!" Lottie rolls her eyes, but Louis tightens his grip on her arm. "Listen, you cannot tell anybody. Not a word, okay?" he pleads.

She grabs his hand and firmly removes it from her wrist, crossing her arms solidly.

"Lottie, please!" He's begging here. The significance of what just occurred is starting to sink in and he isn't sure what the fuck he's going to do if she doesn't keep quiet. Fuck, this thing isn't supposed to be real. It's a tiny little nothing that happens sometimes that no one is supposed to know about. Christ, it doesn't even mean anything! Shit, if his sister doesn't keep her mouth shut then people will know he's sleeping with Harry, which is just as insane as it sounds.

Lottie is staring at him with narrowed eyes and Louis is almost ready to pray on his knees.

"I cannot believe this, Louis," she says. "In our house? While I was home?! Did he sleep here? Oh my god, Harry Styles?!"

"Lottie!" Louis hushes, unable to stand how fucking weird it sounds saying it out loud, hearing it from someone else. "I know, okay? But you can't tell anybody. I swear to god, if you do, I –" Christ, he doesn't even know what would happen if she did. He feels cold even though his heart is beating like a drum, making his blood stir.

His sister stares at him, arms crossed and she's definitely angry.

"Fine," she finally sighs, her hands falling to her sides, and Louis releases a breath of hefty relief. "But," she holds up a finger, "I'll be waiting downstairs for you to drive me to school in ten minutes and to tell me every fucking little thing about this. Tick tock." With that she stomps down the stairs and Louis is left feeling like someone took a giant spoon and is mixing relief and anxiety into a big soup in his stomach.

He slowly goes back into the bedroom where Harry is sitting on the edge of the bed, half dressed and hair disheveled. Louis flops down on his stomach on the bed, processing. What the hell just happened?

A few silent moments go by, neither of them saying a word. A minute ticks by before Louis opens an eye when Harry clears his throat.

"So... school then?" Harry asks, casually.

Louis abruptly sits up and throws a pillow at him, hitting him directly in the face. "Why the fuck are you not freaking out?" he exclaims.

"Ow." Harry rubs at his nose.

Louis gets another pillow and hits him in the chest. "My – sister – just – caught – us – doing – stuff!" Harry tries to catch hold of the pillow, but Louis yanks it away, whacking him in the shoulder.