I thank you, love (l.s)

The dulcet tone of BBC One news presenters rang through the apartment, waking Louis, who groaned and rolled over onto his front. Don't get him wrong, he loved Liam, he really did, but when the man was watching the news at 7am on a Sunday morning, Louis really had to think through all the reasons why. Once upon a time there had been three in their flat, an extra voice to argue alongside Louis about Liams obsession with the news. That was until Zayn fucked off to New York to pursue his dreams or whatever bullshit he'd spilt before he took his bags and left. So now it was just Louis to argue over Liams TV choices and at this moment in time, he really couldn't be bothered.

Instead he kept groaning and rolling around on his bed, until he knew there was no chance of getting back to sleep, making the brave decision of leaving his bed. Only to regret it moments later when he was struck with the chill of the flat. Liam, unlike Louis, never got cold and could probably sit in a freezer and still say it was warm. Whereas Louis was cold even when he was bundled under blankets, with jumpers and tracksuits and hats and gloves. Of course Liam said it was because he never wore socks, but Louis wouldn't indulge him by admitting that was probably true. As a result of Liam never getting cold they were constantly arguing over whether or not to turn the heating on.

"If you loved me you'd turn it on!" Louis would whine and whinge at least twice a day.

"And if you loved me you'd put some socks on." Liam would retort in the same bored tone, with the occasional eye roll just to annoy Louis further.

He went grumbling into the kitchen, telepathically thanking Liam for boiling some water so he wouldn't have to wait and could just pour it into a mug, which he did, dropping in a tea bag then leaning against the counter to wait for it to brew. While he did so he looked down at the tiles on the kitchen floor, ever since him, Liam (and Zayn at the time) had moved in he had loudly expressed his hatred of them. The way the orange and yellow of them swirled round each other, like they were trying to make some sort of pattern, then to top it off it they had that annoying glittery shine to them like the ones on the floor of his primary school. Sometimes when Louis looked at them he felt like they represented the inside of his head, ugly and swirling, with glitter that wasn't quite sparkling.

"Stop thinking about the tiles." Liam's voice interrupted his thoughts, the taller man coming through the door of the kitchen.

He brought in with him his usual morning scent, coffee and toothpaste, that somehow always calmed Louis despite his hate for coffee.

"Wasn't." Louis could practically hear Liam's eye roll, they'd been friends for so long and knew each other so well that at times like this they could have conversations through movements and gestures, could tease with a smirk or laugh and could comfort with simply a smile.

"One day Lou, when we're rich and famous." Louis knew what Liam was talking about instantly, having had this conversation many times at many different points in a day.

"When I'm a best selling author and your fitness DVD has gone number one in all the charts." Was Louis' reply, following Liam back out to the living room with his mug clasped tightly in his hands.

"Fitness DVD this time? What happened to my Calvin Klein modelling career." Liam teased, nudging Louis a little with his elbow.

"What will really happen is you and Soph will finally get your act together and do something about whatever the fuck you two have going on, then you'll fall madly in love and move in together. Which will leave little old Louis on his own, with a possible cat and having to move out but into a smaller flat with less ugly kitchen tiles."

"When that happens will you stop comparing the tiles to your brain?"

"Might do, if my brain stops acting like ugly kitchen tiles then I'll stop comparing them."