Habit

Chapter 5: Too Much To Ask

The next day brought a welcome change of pace—a rare, blissful day off in the beautiful state of New York. Spirits were high as the boys and crew gravitated toward the hotel's lounge area, drawn in by the promise of a pool table and some much-needed relaxation. Katie was mid-game with Niall, squinting down at the cue ball like it held all the world's secrets. She steadied herself, took a shot, and missed spectacularly, sending the cue ball skidding off the table and bouncing off the wall.

Niall held back a laugh, folding his arms as he looked at her with feigned disappointment. "And you say I'm the worst player?"

"Oh, please," Katie shot back, tossing down the cue stick. "Clearly, someone is praying on my downfall. I think it's obvious I'd have nailed it otherwise."

On the couch, Sylvia chuckled, tucking her feet beneath her and watching the exchange with an amused smile. "Or maybe," she suggested in her soft, steady tone, "you just need more practice."

Katie put a hand to her heart, feigning deep offense. "Excuse you, Sylvia. I'm obviously the world's best pool player—this table is just broken. Or cursed. One of the two. Maybe both." Her mock-dramatic tone earned a fresh wave of laughter from the others, filling the room with a warmth Y/n hadn't felt in days.

She'd settled into a corner by the window, sipping her hot chocolate, and couldn't help but smile at the scene unfolding. Even though she felt distanced by her own thoughts, the laughter had a way of seeping in, tugging at her to relax, to join in.

Harry, meanwhile, was center stage as usual, setting up an elaborate trick shot that no one was sure would actually work. He held the cue stick above his head, balancing it precariously while attempting to line up his shot with one eye closed.

"This is going to be legendary," he declared, his voice dripping with confidence as he teetered forward, trying to hold his balance.

Louis, slouched back in his seat with a soda in hand, raised a skeptical eyebrow. "If by 'legendary' you mean 'a disaster waiting to happen,' then yeah, go ahead, mate."

"I can't even watch this," Zayn muttered under his breath, smirking.

"If he makes this, I'll eat my own shoe," Liam said, shaking his head, though he couldn't keep the smile off his face.

Harry straightened up, giving a dramatic bow before taking his shot. The ball shot off in a completely unpredictable direction, ricocheting off walls and narrowly missing Louis's soda before coming to a rolling stop several feet from the table.

Niall clutched his stomach, laughing. "That was incredible, Harry. Truly a masterclass in disaster."

Sylvia, who had been watching with mild amusement, finally stood up from the couch and made her way to the table. "Alright, alright. Let's see if I can show you how it's done," she said with a playful grin, taking the cue stick from Harry's hand.

Harry stepped aside, his hands up in surrender. "Let the real pro take over, everyone."

Sylvia lined up her shot with a steady hand, tapping the ball with perfect precision. It rolled smoothly across the table, sinking neatly into the corner pocket. She looked up, an innocent smile on her face as the others cheered.

"See?" Katie said, turning to Niall. "That's exactly what I was trying to do."

Niall snorted. "And I'm sure you would've managed to if it weren't for the ghost moving the ball away from where you were trying to hit it, yeah? ."

Y/n stifled a laugh, letting herself settle into the moment, feeling her worries slowly melt away as the light-hearted teasing continued around her.

Louis had somehow managed to get his hands on a microphone from the front desk and was now pretending to be a sports commentator. "And here we have Liam Payne, about to make the shot of his career. The pressure is on, folks."