hotel room 108 [narry au]

impotent cerulean oceans

chapter thirty-two

Z.J.M.

Stanley Vance. Once learning his name, and hearing the story in it's entirety, I can't help the overwhelming anger I have towards him. And it's not just because he's Louis' ex-boyfriend. The way Louis was treated leaves me with nothing but fury towards him.

It's now 4:17 in the morning, and we're all still here, waiting for Stan to wake up. The police have joined us as well, and they've questioned only Harry and I. Niall and Louis had fallen asleep right after Louis himself had woken up. We decided it would be best to leave them be.

"They're cute," Harry speaks up next to me as he stares at the two of them sleeping comfortably through the window. His forehead rests on his forearm as he watches with loving eyes,

"They really care for each other," he continues, "I don't think I've ever seen a bond like theirs."

"Yeah," I agree, "it's so strong that Niall almost didn't tell me about Stan."

"What about him?" he asks.

"There's a huge thing between the three of them I...I had no idea Louis had been hurt so much..."

"What if you did know?" Harry asks.

"I would've protected him." I say with sorrow laced in my words.

"I don't think we're very good at keeping them safe," he chuckles, "You know they went out after Naughty Boy and almost got shot? I...they're just boundless."

"Maybe that's why we feel the way we do about them," I say, "they've got no boundaries. They're unordinary; it's what makes them beautiful."

"Thank you," Harry suddenly says, "it means a lot that you can say that about both Louis and Niall."

"Likewise," I reply before we both resume to admiring our boyfriends. Louis looks so peacefully beautiful, with his eyes fluttered shut and his cheeks rosier than ever. The distance between us is far, but I can see his eyelashes daintily floating right under his cheekbones. His mouth is slightly parted and the tips of his front teeth peek out from behind his lips.

"He's so beautiful..." he whisper to myself. The last thing I want to think about is someone hitting Louis, and I want to think of something else, but I guess Harry thinks otherwise.

"Zayn?" he pipes up.

"Yes?"

"Tonight you were fighting like a professional, how did you do it?"

I lean off the glass window, stretching my arms,

"Three years of kickboxing and two years of kendo. Teaches you to keep your eyes open for any threat."

"Kendo? What's that?" he asks.

"Swordsmanship," I answer for him, "My bokuto is my best friend."

"Bokuto?" he asks again and I sigh, placing a hand on his shoulder,

"It's not a typical man's practice," I explain, "So--"

"I wanna come to a class with you," he says suddenly, "the kickboxing too."

"Why so eager?" I ask playfully.

"Today you had no problem defending Louis and yourself. I only want to do the same."

I cock my head to the side, looking at him strangely. I'd never seen someone so eager to jump to such a challenge.

"You've got yourself a deal bud."

We grip hands tightly, and just as we release, a police officer comes up to us,

"If you're ready, Stanley is awake."