Assassin After My Heart [Zouis]

A Threesome. Can I Join?

CHAPTER 9:

LOUIS' POV

"We're back!" I heard Marcel's nasal voice at the other side of my door, on the morning they had returned from Ireland. Don't these idiots have to rest or something?

"And we brought food!" Niall added. I raised an eyebrow. Now that's unusual. I left the water for my tea boiling on the stove and walked towards the door to let them in. But before I could even take another step, Zayn dashed out of the room with assassin-like speed, and was pulling open the door.

"Well, hi th- Oh." Zayn stopped.

After a few seconds of stunned silence, "Er, h-hi. Zayn, right?" Marcel asked, clearly gobsmacked as to what my very recent friend was doing at my apartment at 10 AM in the morning, in only his freaking boxers, with wild bed hair that could easily be mistaken for sex hair.

Zayn looked just as uncomfortable as the two boys at the door. Looks like he was expecting somebody else. 'Cos no one at their best efforts can ever manage to wake up Zayn. Ever.

Well, at least I can't. But now, Liam has given me a taser for waking up Zayn. And whaddaya know? It works wonders.

"Marcel, Niall! Come on in guys!" I called out to them. They both shuffled inside, eyeing Zayn curiously who had stepped aside.

"So, how was the trip?" I asked them, before they could ask me the questions related to the dark haired dude in my apartment that I know they were dying to ask.

"Oh, it was amazing!" Marcel gushed, and Niall grinned cheekily, pecking him.

"Oh, gross! Get a room you two!" Zayn called out obnoxiously, his mouth full of toast. All three of us glared at Zayn, and he raised his palms up in surrender.

"Jeez! Tough crowd!" he remarked, and slinked back to his room, toast in hand (made from the new toaster bought from his money might I add). He had almost disappeared, but not before popping back out with a devilish grin and saying, "Babe, you left your boxers from last night in my room and they're a bit... sticky!"

I choked on air, unable to form a coherent reply in time. Zayn just chuckled slyly, slipping back into his room. Zayn Parker... That bastard gets on my nerves so damn much I just... ugh!

He's lucky that he's hot, otherwise I would've killed him already.

Wait, why do I keep calling him hot when he's not a girl?

Wait, can I even kill a person whose job is to kill people?

Wait, what-

My inner ramblings were interrupted by a throat being cleared fakely. I turned around to see the weirded out and surprised and just plain confused expressions of my two friends.

"What the hell happened in the week we were gone?" Niall questioned incredulously, not-so-subtly gesturing to Zayn's closed door.

"Yeah! Last time you introduced that hottie to us, you introduced him as a 'very recent friend'," Marcel air-quoted, and Niall smacked him upside the head for calling Zayn a hottie.

"But now, he doesn't even look like he's your friend," Niall smirked, and I felt my cheeks getting warm. What the actual fuc-fudge?

"N-no! He's just a... friend! A room mate. You see, I needed someone to share rent with, and Zayn offered to room with me," I half-lied.

"Oh!" Marcel nodded in understanding, but Niall still had his eyes narrowed at me skeptically. The hell, dude?

"Alright!" I clapped my hands. "What did you bring for little ol' me from Ireland?"