My Gay Roommate (L.S)

Epilogue

Niall tosses something into the air and I'm quick to grab it, the cool metal cooling down my skin instantly. I look down at the small flask, quirking a brow. 

"What's in it?" I question, unscrewing the top and giving it a whiff. 

"Nail polish remover, what do you think it is?" he quips, coming over, the tassle of his graduation cap swinging along the side of his face. 

I roll my eyes, taking a sip. My nose scrunches up. "Best fucking nail polish remover I've ever tasted. Why you giving it to me?" 

He laughs, snatching it back to take a swing himself. "Because you look as though you need something to calm your mind," he insists.

Arms snake around my waist, the breeze caused by the gown hitting my bare legs. 

"What, and his breathing exercises he's been taught for over three years isn't enough?" Louis questions, squeezing my waist tighter. 

Niall purses his lips, before pointing to me. "By the way he's not really doing much breathing, and more panicking, I think vodka can really help him right now." 

I shake my head. My heart does hammer in my chest, but it's more anticipation than it is anything else. There's a lot at steak here. I rather get my name called and have a degree after all, or I won't. My future lies in the hands of some parchment.

"Oh, leave them alone, Niall, I bet you don't feel very relaxed right now yourself," Marie snaps, coming into the room. Her hair is curled and the loose waves fall delicately below her shoulders. 

She reaches into her bag, handing over a tube to me. "Your gloss, madam." 

I smile kindly at her, taking the gloss and waddling to the mirror as Louis is still glued to my back. I look at myself in the mirror, the soft golds of my eyeshadow glinting in the light, the eyeliner on fleak if I do say so myself. I apply the gloss, slapping my lips together. 

Over the years, I've become more confident and comfortable in my gender fluidity. I started picking up makeup techniques when I felt more like a woman, and it makes me feel that little more feminine and prettier. 

Louis pecks my jaw. "Pretty as ever," he says.

I giggle, turning in his arms and swiping some gloss on his lips. He splutters at it, rubbing it off with the back of his hand. 

"Gross, H! It's all slimy."

"Rather it be something else slimy?" I tease, and he points a finger my way which I bring into my mouth and bite lightly. 

"Behave yourself, Harold." 

I stare at him fondly. His hair has too grown out, but not as much as mine. Where mine falls graciously along my shoulders, his wisps along his ears and down his neck, stopping a few inches or so before his shoulders. It's a little shaggy, having a tantrum this morning about how his product wasn't helping the bed head. Zayn told him to embrace it, which is what he's doing now. 

"Ready to graduate?" he asks, linking our fingers together, brushing his lips along my knuckles. 

I take deep breath in, smooth out my own gown that we all sport, and nod. 

"Yeah. Let's close this chapter of our story," I reply. 

He smiles. "Couldn't have said it better myself. Niall! Get Ziam out here!" he yells. 

"Ziam!" Niall sing-songs. "We are going to the awakening world, have you finished giving head?"

Louis hums. "Harry getting head," he suggests, giving me a smirk.