My Gay Roommate (L.S)

Thirty Four

Niall is the first one to look up once Marie and I step out of the bedroom. His eyes trail up and down me, a smile breaking, lighting his eyes.

"You look better in that skirt more than Marie ever did," he teases, earning Marie to hit him on the arm and flip him off. He laughs, pats the empty seat between him and Louis.

Louis looks up, eyes drawn down, looking sad like a puppy cold and lost in a forest. It hurts to see him like this, but to be honest it's his own fault. I itch to just touch him, feel his warm skin gently touch the pads of my fingers.

I slide into the stool between the two, Zayn having Liam aid him with piling food onto plates and handing them out.

"There you are, H, I made sure to add a little extra cheese in there, just the way you like it," Zayn says, winking at me when he hands me my burrito.

Despite everything, Louis gives me an encouraging nod, taps his toe against my foot in order for me to know that I've got this. It makes my heart feel a little warmer, chipping at the ice glazing there.

I pick it up with two hands, pieces of mince falling out the bottom. I take a little nibble, and Louis finds that it is his cue to take a bite as well, matching my chews and swallows.

"That skirt suits you," he mumbles under his breath, not giving me any direct eye contact, though I can tell he's wanting to.

I can't help but blush, pink dusting my cheeks. "Thanks," I bumble back, patting the side of my lip with a piece of kitchen roll.

Niall sighs dramatically. "Oh come on, you two! Hug it out, c'mon, the awkwardness is quite literally strangling me to the point where I'll be fine with death knocking at my door." He takes a huge bite of his burrito the same time Liam nudges him with his elbow and shakes his head. Niall flings his arms out as if to say what?

Louis looks over to me then, gives a weak smile. "I'm sorry, H," he whispers, leaning in so that his breath tickles my ear.

I don't want all these eyes prying my way, so I simply nod, leg beginning to bounce on its own accord.

"Would you lot stop fucking staring and pick up your own conversations? You're making him anxious!" Louis snaps, making me slightly jump.

All the eyes that were on me, look anywhere but, lips thinning and tightening as if a piece of thread was clamping them closed.

I feel his hand rest on my knee, stilling my leg momentarily. I look over to him, and his eyes tell me things he hasn't said out loud, things we're not quite ready to say yet. I've never been able to read people, but here and now, I'm able to recognise that Louis always tells me what he cannot say by just his eyes, as if they're an open book themselves; letters pouring from the page to form the words, wrapping delicately around my heart and nuzzling there.

I heave a slow sigh, nodding slowly. I lean my head against his shoulder, despite my better judgement to continue being petty and let him wait longer.

"Okay," I mutter. "I'm still pissed off that you told your therapist, though," I quietly admit, hoping the others cannot hear. Probably not the best place to talk things out, but they're all trapped in their own little conversations now so it doesn't matter.

He sighs. "You can be pissed off at me for as long as you please, but don't use that as an excuse to ignore me. I like you, H, more than anyone and I just want to be by your side no matter what."

I trace a pattern into his thigh, watching the way his even breaths expand and retract his knitted clad tummy.

"Okay. But don't do anything like that again," I warn, looking up at him through my lashes, head positioned down slightly to where his lap is. If we weren't having dinner, I'd climb right into it and snuggle into his chest.