If I Could Fly

Chapter 5 - The Library

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Harry's POV

After we get home from the restaurant Zayn, Niall, and I hang out and watch The Titanic while chugging a few more beers. I don't love beer and only had two at the restaurant but Niall convinces me to have a few more since we are in for the night. The Titanic is obviously my favorite film and they only put it on for me. I know they are being overly nice to me because of this morning but I'm just happy to be snuggled up with my best mates on the couch so why question it. It doesn't matter much anyway because we talk over the film in favor of discussing Liam and Louis. Niall dons them with a 5 star review and declares that they will become a regular fixture in our little group. I really don't even try to argue with him because if that's what Niall wants that's what he'll get. Zayn and I still can't really decipher how Niall became to be our best mate. Anyway, would it really be so bad? Zayn obviously loves Liam and thought Louis was really fun. Although Zayn was extremely bothered by the fact that Louis kept asking about me, he thought that Louis needed to mind his business. I try to brush it off and change the subject as quickly as I can, not wanting to discuss it. I thought Liam was very chill and Louis was much easier to talk to than I expected. He seemed to be giving me a lot of his attention which I was not expecting at all.

As we chat through the film Niall won't stop talking about how he is going to get Louis and I together. He comes up with many different extravagant scenarios mostly involving me being a damsel in distress and Louis coming to my rescue. Which is a bit unfair. Niall is also trying to pry how I am feeling about Louis out of me but luckily Zayn makes Niall back off. I know he is just excited and doesn't mean any harm. But I get really nervous when he asks me about Louis, I honestly don't know how I feel. I am all kinds of confused and mixed up, I can't seem to get my thoughts in order.

When we decide it is time for bed I have a drunk Irishman and Zayn following me to my room. The three of us pile into my king size bed, with me in the middle of course. This is much more comfortable than when we try to smush into Niall's full bed. Zayn and Niall easily fall asleep, Niall star fishing and poking me in the leg with his toes and Zayn facing away from me with practically all of the covers bunched up around him. I try to let myself relax and drift off to sleep, but I am paralyzed. Sleep just out of my grasp because of the constant thoughts spinning around in my mind that are all starring Louis Tomlinson. The way his eyes sparkled with joy when I asked him about his studies, the way his carmel fringe would fall into his eyes, or the way his biceps flexed when he picked up his pint. It was exhilarating to see how passionate Louis is about the theater. I could listen to him talk all day long if it meant I got to see that sparkle in his eyes. Fuck, I am such an embarrassing mess. In addition to all of the wonderful and perfect things about this man that are flitting through my mind. I am also graced with every embarrassing thing I did tonight and a myriad of different ways he could use this information against me.

When the voices have finally quieted down, I drift off to sleep picturing Louis' glistening blue eyes and the adorable crinkles that sit next to them.

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When I wake up it is certainly not by my choice, apparently none of the three people sleeping in my bed thought it would be a good idea to close the curtains. Niall is burying his face in his pillow and Zayn is stabbing me in the arm to try and prod me out of bed to close the curtains. The curtains that he is an arms length away from but sure I'll crawl over a grown man to close the curtains in my room. Makes perfect sense. Once I extricate myself from the middle of the bed and stumble over to close the curtains, I almost instantly hear snores coming from both of them. Instead of crawling back over one or both of them, since my spot has been absorbed in the 10 seconds I have been out of bed. I decided I'll make breakfast, nothing motivates them more than the smell of bacon wafting through the flat. And not 3 minutes after I start cooking I hear their groggy footsteps dragging their way into the kitchen. Mission accomplished.