The Book Of You & I (L.S.)

Chapter 8: Breakfast

-Louis's POV-

-2020-

As I wake up in the morning, Zayn isn't there. He fell asleep next to me in the middle of the night, and when I woke up an hour earlier, he was there to comfort me and hold me. Now he's gone, and the sheets are ruffled where he once laid.

I lie there for a moment, deep in my thoughts. My memories flood with the events of last night, how he cared for me, the way his touch felt so soft and kind against my skin, how he held me that night, the whispers he said to me. It was incredible.

It made me think of all those nights, so many years ago, when we would stay up to the wee hours of night, talking and kissing and touching. Those were some of the best moments of my life, aside from the times I had with...Harry.

Why were those the best? They shouldn't be the best...I don't love him anymore. I love Zayn.

I love him and my best moments were with him.

Like when we started dating. Or when I met his parents. When my sisters made us play dress up and put him in a stupid pink tutu with a bow, we laughed about that for years. All those memories were amazing...now it's different.

Now I crave those moments. I wait all day and night for those moments, for him to be gentle and caring, for him to whisper sweet nothings into my ear. For the 3 words I haven't heard in years.

Eventually, my thoughts begin to hurt and I get up from bed.

I'm in pajamas that I don't remember putting on, but don't question anything.

I walk out the door of my bedroom and immediately smell coffee and pancakes. He...cooked? He hasn't cooked in...a year, maybe? When did we even get the food to cook?

I peek around the corner, he stands there, whistling in a stupid pink apron, a spatula in one hand as he flips pancakes. "Z-zayn?" I mutter out. His head snaps up at me and a smile forms on his lips.

"Louis!" He says in a cheerful tone as he walks up to me. HIs hand reaches up to my hair, his fingers running through it softly. "I was waiting for you to wake up, darling. I made you breakfast." He's all smiles and kind eyes, kissing my forehead gently as his fingertips graze my neck.

"I...uh...where did you get the things to make breakfast?"

"I went to the store this morning. You were sleeping, I didn't want to wake you." His eyes stared deeply into my eyes, until they traveled down to my lips, my neck, and back to my lips.

"Oh...okay." I mumble softly. His finger brushes my lip softly, making it obvious he wanted to kiss me.

"Is this okay?" He asks, leaning in.

"I–um–I...okay," He leans in and kisses me deeply, his fingertip grazing my jawline. He pulls me closer and grips my lower back tightly. His other hand grazed my cheek before he pulls away. "You're literally the best," He says softly.

"And I," He says, turning back to the stove, "Am going to treat you like a king today." He says with a smile.

Today.

Just today.

He continues to whistle as he flips the pancakes and I really do want to ask if he's drunk again, or hungover. But I didn't taste any alcohol, and he doesn't seem as drowsy as he usually is when he's hungover.

"Sit down, love. This'll be done in just a moment." He smiles.

I sit and stare at him for a moment, because what exactly is happening? He's being nice to me. Actually nice. Without any drugs or alcohol or anything. Has he changed overnight? Does he feel bad for all these years? I really do want to question him, I want to know where he was last night, why he's being so nice today, but I know better than to question him.

"How did you sleep, my love?" His charming voice asked. The same voice he used in the beginning, when things were perfect. When I was with the love of my life and never questioned anything.

"Um...I slept well."

"That's good to hear. I'm glad. I'm sorry I came home so late last night. Work was very busy."

Liar.

"Oh, yeah, that's okay."

Liar.

"I'm glad you're not upset about it. I was quite worried. Also, did you eat last night, darling? There was barely any food in the house. All I saw was some soup,"

"Um, Yeah. I had a sandwich." I mumble and his eyebrows furrow at me.

"Is that what you've been eating? Darling, why didn't you tell me we didn't have any food? I would have bought some. I don't want you eating something like that."

"I'm sorry," I mumble quietly.

He rushes towards me and squats down so we're eye to eye, holding my arm tightly. "Why are you apologizing? You don't have to apologize, it's my fault." He lifts my hand and kisses it softly before grabbing a plate with a pancake on it and handing it to me, "Here you go, love."

I looked down at the food for a moment, feeling skeptical of the food in front of me. "T-thank you," I say softly.

"Anything," He sits down beside me and watches me as I take a small bite. "Is there anything you'd like to do today?" He's all smiles as he asks me, a bit of his teeth showing.

"I...I don't know," I keep my eyes from meeting his, worried that I'm going to see something I don't want to see. He might be mad, he might be glaring at me. But his answer is anything but mad.

"Oh, that's okay darling. We can relax around the house, or take a walk. Oh! We could go out for dinner! Does that sound nice?"

"Um, yeah, I think I'd rather be out and about today," I don't tell him the reason because most likely he'd get pissed. Whenever me and Zayn are "out and about" he never hurts me. In fact, he's perfectly lovely. He's the perfect boyfriend. He treats me well, he spoils me and he always keeps an arm around my waist.

Being in public never lasts for long though. The longest we've ever been out and about was for half an hour. And that's only because I kept him in a store because I asked him to help me find something that didn't exist.

"That sounds nice," Zayn replies. He takes a seat across from me with a plate of eggs. "What would you like to do while we're out?"

His voice is the same kind you use while talking to children and it pisses me off a bit. I look up at him and play with my food a bit. "I dunno, we could get some coffee maybe or..." I can't finish my thought because suddenly my head is clouded with Harry.

That was our first date...coffee. Or our first real date.

What is going on with me? Usually I could think of coffee and it have nothing to do with Harry. Why is he on my mind all of a sudden? It's Niall's fucking fault I bet. God, I hate him.

"That sounds nice, let's do that." he says with a sweet smile.

He has something on me.

I know it.

**

I'm sliding on my vans and feel hands wrap around my waist. I turn around quickly and jump ever so slighlty.

Zayn's standing there with a loving smile and it honestly terrifies me. I stare at him for a moment before pulling my fake smile.

I've perfected it over the years. It looks just like my real one, except you can't see the wrinkles by my eyes, but Zayn never notices that...Harry did.

"You ready, love?" Zayn asks, kissing my neck gently.

"Um, yeah." I say grabbing my jacket from the closet.

He wraps an arm around my waist and we're heading out the door.