Negative Five Thousand Billion

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***Chapter 7***

Drew's POV

When I awaken from my well-deserved sleep, I find I am not alone. I feel someone's warm body beside me, a little too closely. I feel warm breath on my neck and I wiggle around in duvet to find Niall's sleeping face.

I poke Niall multiple times on the nose until his eyelids flutter open.

"Morning, loser." He said wrapping his arms around me and squeezing me in a ginormous hug.

I punch him lightly on the arm and stick my tongue out at him. he does the same as I gave him a smirk, walking out of the room.

I walked into my room only to walk back out again. I was obviously wandering aimlessly. I decided to wander into the direction of the kitchen, for some food.

I heard slight noise coming from the living room as I approached it. When it came into view, I saw Harry slumped on the couch like a potato. The telly was on, the volume barely up. He was sleeping, huddled under huge pile of blankets.

I tiptoed over to where he was and sat next to his sleeping body. I suddenly had an idea and ran silently upstairs to me room and snatched the first marker I saw. I made my way back to the living room, successfully without waking up the curly haired boy.

Slowly but surely, I drew the perfect mustache on him: The handlebar mustache. He stirred and I ran for my life. I attempted to act casual in the kitchen, like I was making breakfast or something. I turn the oven on, grabbing the eggs from the fridge.

Almost on cue, Harry came sluggishly through the doorway separating the kitchen and the living room. When He saw me standing there by the oven, a smile crept to his face. Fortunately, not a creepy one.

"Morning, love," He said in his deep raspy morning voice. "Whatcha making?"

"Scrambled eggs," I told him, trying to keep a straight face. The fact that he had no clue there was a mustache drawn on his face, is funny. But now that he's awake, its funnier. "Want some?"

"Sure," He said walking over to the fridge and pulling out the orange juice. He poured two glasses and handed one to me as he sipped his own.

"Thanks," I said quietly and smiling to myself. He just nodded in response as the smile still remained on his face. After a moment of silence, Harry spoke up again.

"Are Louis and Liam at the airport right now?" He asked me. I checked my iPhone to see it was 9:52. Eleanor and Danielle's flight would be landing any minute.

"Yeah, their flight lands at 10," I told him as I handed him a plate of scrambled eggs. We sat down on the couch in the living room as the faint sound of the news on the telly played in the background.

"They probably won't be back until 2 or so. They are probably gonna do something together. Zayn and Niall sleep in till 12..." He continued as I watched him as he talked.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "What's your point, loser?" I teased him. He laughed lightly and it made me smile.

"We have the beach to ourselves this morning!" he stated and I laughed a nodded. I looked over at where the faint background sound was coming from and found five familiar faces on the telly. I reached for the remote off of the coffee table and turned the volume up a couple notches.

"The British/Irish Boyband sensation, One Direction, is taking a little vacation in Malibu for a while. But are they alone? As seen in this exclusive picture, Harry Styles is seen carrying an unknown girl's luggage from the airport and placing it in the limo. Coincidentally, the same girl was seen just a week ago with them in London. Or is it a coincidence? This girl has also been pictured with Harry on twitter, cuddling closing. Is she a just a fan or something more to one of the band members? She sure is beautiful, but will her looks capture more than one of the guy's attentions and start a fight? Who is this un-named miss? Definitely more news to come on this subject this coming week!" the news reported finished. I gaped at the telly. The idea of me coming between the boys is ridiculous. Hopefully, no one recognized me, though. That's ok; I didn't really have many friends, so I think I'm good.

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