Twenty-Two ➳ l.p.

Chapter Twenty-Two: Right Here

                  “Liam!” I called, “where did you put my stuff?”

                  “It’s right here,” he groaned back. “God.”

                  “Don’t scoff at me. You love me.”

                  “I’m starting to think of this as more of a curse.”

Chapter Twenty-Two: Right Here

                  Surprisingly, I didn’t get sick, but Liam did have a little cough for a few days (I resisted the urge to say “I told you so”, but only by a little), which was fine because it gave me an excuse to pamper him for a few days. Eventually though, that kind of wore off and I had to admit that yes, I was becoming one of those girlfriends who couldn’t last a second without her boyfriend by her side. In my defense though, my boyfriend was probably about ten times better than the rest of the others combined, and it was completely logical for me to want to surround myself with him. At least that’s what I told myself.

                  “Knock knock,” I called as I pushed open the door to Liam’s room, surveying the boys in front of me. Louis and Zayn and Niall were all stretched and tangled on the bed, and Harry was sprawled out in the floor. Liam was laying next to him, turning to give me a bright smile.

                  “Hello.”

                  “Hi yourself,” I grinned back, choosing to plop into the beanbag chair and face the boys. “Why are you all always in here?”

                  “When you lead a famous life and barely have any days off,” Louis told me lazily, raising his head just enough to meet my eyes, “you’re going to be thankful when you can just crash.”

                  “Noted,” I nodded back, stretching out my limbs with a yawn. My mum had wanted me to help her with some new cooking thing that she had learned from the Food Network, and after about two-and-a-half hours of chopping and baking and frying, I was a little worn out. Especially since we got nothing but a weird, disappointing mush as the result. “So I’m guessing that we have no plans today?”

                  “Niall and I were headed out to the movies later,” Harry told me, rolling on his back to send me a smile. “I don’t know about Louis and Zayn. Probably going to go egg a house or something.”

                  “Harold Styles,” Louis scoffed, toeing at the other with his socked foot, “I refuse to be spoken to that way.”

                  “It’s a good thing that I was talking to Alice then, huh?”

                  “Don’t start,” Zayn cut in with a snappish groan, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I’m begging you two, don’t start.”

                  I could only giggle at the three, Louis and Harry looking like petulant toddlers and Zayn the irritated parent.

                  “You only think it’s funny because you’re not around them all of the time,” Niall shot over to me when he noticed me stifling a giggle behind my hand, baby blues rolling. “Seriously. Try staying on a bus with them for an entire tour. You wouldn’t make it.”

                  I shrugged, not bothering to respond because he was probably right. Harry and Louis themselves were barely manageable, so I couldn’t even imagine them together for long period of time. I didn’t really want to either, so kudos to the boys for lasting much longer than I ever would’ve.