The Mutual opposition

Teamwork

Louis's Pov

"If Luna was a boy she'd be Damian" Roxanne jeers.

"I would NOT!" she cries, "Plus, your already Janice."

"I'll kick your little ass!"

"Too bad 'cos I don't have one!"

Sitting between them wasn't a good choice as they continue to quarrel back and forth between one another.

"Will you two shut up?" Lily complains.

"No" Luna refuses.

"This movie sucks" Niall opines.

"No one asked you" Roxanne snorts.

My attention snaps to the clicking of boots on the kitchen's marble floor.

"Hello lasses, lads" Liam greets, setting what I think is an newspaper on the table.

"Hey lad" I reiterate. I get up from my spot on the couch.

Luna sends me the pleading,
"Don't leave me next to her" look.

One of them might as well be dead once I get back.

"You've got the manuscripts?" I ask, running my hand over the laminated cover of our shorthand held together merely by a paper clip.

"It isn't much yet," Liam states, "But it will be."

I'd worked tirelessly around the clock with Liam, drugging myself with tea and pot to stay conscious.

But in the end we came out with a pretty great album.

Although our handwriting lacks in dapper, and is far from impressive, it's content sustains the most value.

We'd written for and about the three lasses.

And Liam and I'd even written a few for Zayn and Roxanne too.

Harry'd written one for Lily.

And I'd even come out with a few for Luna.

"Julian, Ruth, and Jamie read them over and critiqued it a little, but they didn't change much. We'll be working on at least two together as a team however. And after that we'd be finished with the album."

I nod.

"I can't wait to hear it."

I flip through the pages.

I'd been inspired through a lot of things; Fried chicken, the imprudence of Zayn and Roxanne's relationship, the lass which I can now call mine.

Of course I was humble in dividing the parts.

Zayn gets his high notes, Harry his accustomed lead, Liam his spot in the chorus or conclusion.

And Ni and I usually get shoved in wherever we fit.

Which is usually the bridge.

This time we're getting more opportunities to sing.

I may be an injudicious crackpot, however if there's anything I'd learned about myself, it's that I'm rational.

I force myself out of my muse, reading the titles.

I'd taken most pride in one Li and I had titled "No Control."

The song depicts our juvenile irrationality of appeasing our impulses.

Or as Simon calls it; satisfying ourselves like the raunchy hormonal boys we are.

I steal an absentmindedly glance at Roxanne.

The memory still haunts me.

Even though it felt so good.