Black Mail

Night Routine

                  

Zayn and I had sat for practically the whole day, and late into the night watching videos.  Once we stopped causally talking and really started focusing on the video, he got really into it. He started pointing out all the things the boys did wrong, all the things they were doing well, and he would even proceed to tell me when the lighting was good, or if the sex looked natural.  I avoided showing him videos of myself, because it was slightly uncomfortable, but at 2 am that night, when we were settling down for sleep, he didn't fail to mention it.

Harry was finally home, spiraled on my bed, reading a new ambulance manual while I sketched beside him, shoving his arm over every time it got in my way. Zayn was sitting on his bed across from mine, watching us curiously. I could hear Louis and Liam rewatching the game in the penis room, yelling at the TV every now and then.  This happened a lot here.  When Harry and Liam were on their days off, we all tended to stay up late, no matter how early we had to get up the next day. Harry's arm slid onto my paper again as he dosed, I shoved him back.

"Harry, if your tired go to bed." I yanked on his hair. I knew he was going to fall asleep in my bed. He always- and I mean always- did.

"No, I'm awake." His head shot up as he focused back on the words.

"Niall?" Zayn spoke before I could reply to Harry.

"Yes?" I looked up at the sound of his voice.

"Why didn't you show me any videos of you?" He tried to be nonchalant, but I say the bobbing of his Adam's apple as he gulped.

Harry stopped reading his manual, looking up to stare at me with a slight smirk on his face. Ignoring Harry, I turned back to Zayn. "I didn't want to scare you on the first viewing."

"I can show you some Zayn. Niall doesn't like to watch his own videos unless he's getting critiqued. The rest of us watch them causally when we feel like it. You'll never catch him watching his own." Harry pipped up, decided that he had the right to answer.

"Harry," I hissed. I didn't want Harry to show Zayn any. I felt Zayn's eyes on us, watching, judging. He was undoubtably thinking about everything I shared with him that afternoon.  He was judging Harry, already decided in his mind that he no longer liked him.  In that moment he saw him as a threat, a user, as he'd called him earlier.

"You like watching them Harry?" Zayn's eyes were narrowed slits. Harry didn't notice as he focused back on his manual.

"I know its weird, but yeah sometimes..." His slow drawl indicated that he wasn't really paying attention.

"Everyone's, or just Niall's?" I jerked violently, sliding up onto my knees to give Zayn a dirty look. Harry looked up, confusion written all over his face.

"What is your problem right now? If your getting cranky because your tired and you and I have to go to work early tomorrow, you better go to bed.  Harry that means you too."

Zayn looked stunned by my tone.  He knew he crossed a line with that.  He made me a deal, and he was tiptoeing on the wrong side of my patience. I wouldn't trust him again if he proved unworthy of it.

"I'm not tired..." Harry replied sheepishly, looking up at me clearly upset. "I wanted to spend some time with you. I haven't gotten to see you properly for three days."

"Then let's go to the foyer so Zayn can go to sleep.  I want him to be well rested tomorrow."

"No," Zayn spoke up quickly. "You can stay; I can sleep with the lights on." He obeyed immediately, as I knew him to usually do, and laid down, pulling the covers up to his chin.  He made a show of taking off his glasses, closing his eyes and sighing.

Harry tugged my arm, wanting me to lay back down beside him. I slid back down, whispering. "Harry, lets just go to the foyer."

He shook his head silently, shushing me with his finger to his lips.  He patted my head, dragging it close to his until our foreheads touched.  He mimed sleeping to me, telling me he wanted the both of us to go to bed, together. In my bed. Always in my bed.  I wanted to hit him for a second there.  This wasn't helping my case with Zayn who already thought Harry was a user.

"Not tonight Harry. Why don't you just go to bed.  I'll see you in the morning." I pulled his hand away from my head, drawing back.

Harry looked stunned.  I didn't think, in all the years we'd known each other, I'd ever told him no. I didn't want to admit it, but it was the first time Zayn came between us.

"Are you being serious right now?" He rasped, clearly hurt.

"I just want to sleep Harry, not tonight."

Harry was clearly very pissed, to say the least.  On most of his nights off he tended to fall sleep in my bed. I never told him no seriously, and I never kicked him out. Me, nor all the boys knew why Harry had his own room.  He hardly ever slept there, always choosing to sleep in mine instead. He was pissed that I was telling him no.  He knew why, well maybe not why, but he had a good idea.  He knew it was Zayn lying in the bed over.  We both knew he was listening intently right now, to every word.

"Fine. Whatever. Don't call me crying later." Angrily, Harry snatched his manual off the bed and slid off, snatching my sketch too just to piss me off. "Don't come looking for this."

He stalked out, slamming the door behind him.  I heard him walk into the lounge a moment later, talking loudly, and angrily to Louis and Liam. I heard Louis consoling him, telling him to calm down. I heard Zayn's name mentioned, though I couldn't hear exactly what was being said. Louis spoke again, though his voice was muffled.  Then there was silence. I heard Harry's door shut firmly a few seconds later.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for him to leave." It was a whisper, but I heard every word.

"It's not your fault." I sighed, shuffling off my bed.  I stood awkwardly in the middle of the floor for a moment.  Go after him, or let it be. I hated fighting with Harry. I hated it.

"Go." Zayn spoke as he rolled over, giving me his back. "Goodnight."

I hesitated for a full moment. I was being stupid. Harry just wanted to spent time with me, why was I chickening out and flinching from him.  Talking to Zayn had brought up old memories, and old feelings. Things that were forgotten and buried long ago. Perhaps these things never stay buried though. I turned off the lights as I reached the door, yanking it open.  Harry was standing there, holding my sketch, a really upset expression on his face.

Silencing him quickly, I slapped my hand against his mouth. He ripped my hand down, a hurt expression evident on his features.  I stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind me.

"What the hell was that?" He hissed.

"I'm sorry." It was all I could say. I didn't know what happened back there.

He folded his arms and dropping his eyes to the floor, looking wounded.

"Harry, please don't go running to Lou and Liam when your upset with me."

"Don't do that." He jabbed a finger at my door, angrily. His voice rose. "Why? Because he's here. Because he has a mad crush on you that you don't want to admit. Because you don't want to hurt his feelings. Well, I don't care."

"Harry, shh. That's enough. I don't want him to hear you." I hissed back quietly, yanking his arm down. "Will you come back in and be quiet. I'm really going to bed this time."

"No. I'm going to my own." I definitely had no right to be stung, however, I was.

"Okay. Goodnight Harry. I'll see you tomorrow morning." I ruffled my hair, turning back to my door.  I felt rejected, but that was ridiculous because I'd just done the same thing to him.

He grabbed my arm, holding me there. I looked back at him. He licked his lips, forming the rights words carefully in his head before he said them. He opened his mouth, then closed it again and proceeded to release my arm.  "Goodnight Niall."

"Harry," I called after him.

He didn't respond, but instead walked back into his room and closed the door behind him.