Wide Awake (One Direction / Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 45

Another chapter!!! Yay 

I know i said i wouldnt post more here but...  Yeah ;)

Love u guys <3 Xx

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Louis is released two days after the night of the event, mainly due to his indignant protests of how this can't be treated if you don't know what it is and I might as well finish the damn tour anyway.

When he woke up yesterday, he was disoriented and refused to tell us about what the doctor had been talking to him about. Even when I confronted him alone, explaining what happened, he flat-out denied my requests.

"I will tell you, Hazza, You know that," he told me, from the darkness of the supply closet I had enclosed us in. His eyes had gleamed in the small crevice of light stealing though the doors. "But... not now. Please, Harry, I mean it," he had added when I was going to speak again.

So I dropped it, though it buzzed in my mind furiously, an angry bee trapped in a box with no idea of the trap door to let him out.

Anyway, he's alright. But now we have another minor - well, okay, it's not minor - problem.

We need to talk about Larry Stylinson to the fans.

When I explain to Louis about what happened, he just shrugs. "T'was gonna happen soon enough. We're not careful enough to keep our big mouths shut, or lips from kissing each other."

I roll my eyes. We're in the hotel in Birmingham, again. Liam, Niall, Louis and I have gathered in the biggest room in the suite, where Niall and Louis are crashing on the bed, I'm lying on the floor, and Liam is sprawled across the love seat. Zayn is showering. "I can resist from kissing you," I argue, lingering around the topic.

Louis arches a suspicious eyebrow. He's surprisingly cocky for what happened yesterday; but that's what's going on. He's acting like it's just a page in a fairytale - done and fictional. "You couldn't go five minutes without kissing me. Let alone a full three hours. As soon as the show ended, you'd probably kiss-rape me."

I again roll my eyes. "Yeah, right."

"Back to the situation at hand," Liam butts in. He elbows my ribcage. "What are you going to do?"

I open my mouth the reply (with the classic "I have no clue"), but then Liam's phone rings. He tugs it out of his pocket, and frowns at the caller ID. "Management," he informs us, and answers the call.

"Why always Liam. Why not me?" Niall grumbles to us.

"Liam's Daddy Direction," Louis suggests. "He's supposed to be the dad. And when you go to a parent-teacher meeting, then the teachers will talk to the higher authority, as in the parent, right?"

Niall just shrugs, because I'm pretty sure that was a rhetorical question, and Liam says, "Right, thank you. Yeah, bye," and ends the call.

Niall peers at him from behind a plush white pillow he's hugging. His hair is fluffed up and mussed. "Well?"

I note that the shower has turned off in the en suite bathroom, and Zayn suddenly pops out, towel loose around his waist, still covered with a sprawling of water droplets. He shakes his wet hair, ensuing sputters from a now well-sprayed Louis and Liam. Niall's pillow dampens as well. "Well?" he asks.

Liam frowns at him, displeased. He brushes some water from his arms. "A sorry'd be nice. Anyway. You need to personally confront the fans, management says."