The bus is on the way back to London for a series of shows there before they go abroad. It’s always nice to be in London, especially when they’re working, because then Harry gets to sleep in his own bed and still have the stage and the lights and the music and it’s like he has almost everything he could want.
He’s not paying attention, texting on his phone when he pushes into the back lounge of the bus. It’s quiet, so he’s surprised to look up and see Louis and Liam are there. Louis and Liam are never quiet in a room together.
Louis’s sitting on the couch and Liam’s laying down, her head in Louis’s lap. Louis’s stroking her hair and Liam is staring off into space.
Harry stops in the doorway. “You all right?” he asks, speaking to either of them or both of them.
Louis looks at him and then down at Liam. She keeps staring into space like she hasn’t heard him at all.
“What’s going on?” he asks, his brow furrowing.
“We’ve got X Factor tomorrow,” Louis says, keeping her voice light, her hand never stopping against Liam’s head. She’s wearing neon pink nail polish and it’s chipped badly. He watches the color running through the short hair on the side of Liam’s head until the words sink in.
“Oh,” he says then. He should have realized, one of them should have realized – he supposes Liam knew it was coming, but of course she wouldn’t say anything.
Liam’s gaze finally shifts and she meets his eyes. “He texted me,” she says blankly. She blinks.
Harry leans against the doorway then. “Oh?” he says again, and Liam reaches beneath herself, pulling the phone out from where she’d obviously wedged it, as if she didn’t want to deal with it. He walks over to grab it and sure enough, there it is, a text from Danny, the first for almost five weeks.
Miss you all the time. Can we have dinner before the show? Xxxx
There’s no reply.
“Oh,” Harry says, yet again, and hands the phone back. Louis glares at him, but Liam doesn’t seem to notice. He settles on the couch a few feet away from them. “What are you going to do?”
Liam goes back to gazing off somewhere into the distance, but her foot is tapping against the seat and it gives away her anxiety. “Dunno,” she says finally. “Niall says it means he wants to get back together.”
“I said that too,” Louis says, slapping her lightly. Liam smiles then, but it feels odd and out of place.
“Niall speaks boy, though,” Liam points out.
“I speak boy,” Harry interjects.
“Oh, Harry,” says Louis.
Harry ignores her. “Do you want to get back together with him?” he asks. His fist is clenched beside him and he stretches his fingers carefully, then pushes them into his thigh, one by one.
Liam stares awhile longer. “Dunno,” she says finally, detached, and Harry hears that it also means maybe.
“Going to dinner doesn’t mean you have to say yes to getting back together,” Louis points out.
“But you don’t have to say yes to dinner, either,” Harry puts in. Only Louis looks at him, and her gaze is sharp, but she doesn’t respond.
“I know,” Liam says, and it’s not clear to which of them it’s directed. She turns on to her back, stretching. “Okay, I’d literally rather talk about anything else, so let’s do that.”
