Habit

Chapter 7: Back For You

Y/n had thought she was prepared. She had spent the past few days on the bus, keeping her distance and focusing on what felt like the only thing she could control—her work. She had decided to be better, to embrace forgiveness, to not let the past weigh her down. But that plan, like many others, hadn't quite gone the way she expected.

The bus had been in motion, one show after another, the rhythm of their tour never stopping. The days blurred together as they drove from one city to the next, and Y/n couldn't help but feel the distance between her and the boys. She hadn't really seen much of them, especially Louis. There were no more late-night talks, no more playful banter. She had steeled herself, buried the softer sides she didn't know how to deal with. And now, tonight, with their first show in a while, she had to face them again.

And more importantly, she had to face Louis.

The moment he walked into her station, Y/n felt the difference. It wasn't a massive change, not some dramatic shift that screamed "I've changed!" But it was there. His eyes, clearer than before, had a kind of lightness she hadn't seen in him in a while. She was honestly shocked. Gone were the tired, too-quick glances that always seemed to hold something else, something she couldn't quite place. His laughter was real—genuine. Not forced. It wasn't just that he was showing up on time for his hair appointment (something he never used to do). It was the way he lingered in the dressing room, not rushing off to smoke or grab a coffee like he usually would. He was there, staying close, hanging around her as though he wanted to be.

His words were softer too, and his usual sarcasm had a new undertone—something almost...warm.

"Y'know," Louis drawled one morning as Y/n worked her fingers through his hair, "I think you missed a spot. Right here," he pointed to an imaginary strand, giving her a cheeky grin.

She rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah? Maybe I should leave it like that. Let you go out there looking like a complete disaster."

"Can't look worse than Harry's bedhead," Louis shot back, the smirk never leaving his face.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, the back-and-forth felt easy. Comfortable. Like the years of tension between them had somehow fallen away, leaving behind a connection that was... different.

Over the next few days, the teasing became a routine. A new routine that Y/n found herself looking forward to. The conversations with Louis stretched longer now, going beyond the usual sarcastic remarks. They talked about real things—places they wanted to visit, stories from their childhood, the strangest clients she'd ever had, the weirdest things he'd done while drunk. Slowly, those moments with Louis began to feel less like a game and more like an opening. An invitation into something that felt like real conversation.

One night, after a long rehearsal, Louis hung around her station. The energy of the day was worn thin, and Y/n was ready to pack it up and get some rest. But Louis didn't leave.

"I know you think I'm a mess," he began, his voice surprisingly sincere, "but I'm trying. Really trying, Y/n."

She blinked, caught off guard. For a second, she wasn't sure how to respond. Was this another joke? Another one of his half-serious attempts at deflecting? But the earnestness in his eyes made her think otherwise.

"Good," she said quietly, nodding. "You better be."

They stood there in the comfortable silence that followed. She could tell he was trying, not for anyone else, but for himself. And maybe... just maybe, a little for her too.

Their friendship—or whatever this was—grew steadily after that. Coffee before soundcheck became a routine. He saved her a seat during late-night dinners. Every small gesture felt like a thread weaving them closer together, but still, the air between them was thick with something neither of them wanted to name. The tension was there, but it wasn't the angry, frustrated tension it had once been. It was something lighter. Something... hopeful.