Playboy » L.S

Chapter 17

Harry's pov.

After I ended the phone call with Louis last night, I felt so much more at peace with everything. It immediately lightened my mood beyond compare, to the point that I even called Zayn and invited him to come back to my apartment to hang out. He had brought a case of beer, and we spent the night drinking away my happiness and watching all the Jackass movies.

Around two in the morning, and well past many, many beers, Zayn paused the movie and turned to me. He looked dazed and more than buzzed, a small smile on his face. If I knew better, I'd be incredibly creeped out with him just staring at me, but I was just as drunk as he was.

"You're really happy, aren't you, Haz?" He asked, his eyes a bit bloodshot, a drunken smile etching it's way onto his lips.

"Surprisingly, yeah," I laughed lightly, my gaze shifting down to the half empty beer in my hand. I swirled the contents in the bottle, watching as it swished around inside the brown glass.

"I'm sorry I give you so much shit over your feelings for Louis. It's just that - well, I'm just not used to you even having feelings, to be honest," He chuckled at that and I slapped at his upper arm.

"Don't be a d.ick. Get to your point, drunky," I grinned, lifting my beer bottle to my lips to take a long drink. I don't know why Zayn is deciding to have a heart-to-heart at two in the morning after hours spent drinking, but whatever floats his boat, I guess.

"I'm happy to see you happy, Haz. Like, I know you and Louis have only even known each other for a couple of weeks, but what I see so far - I like it. It's good for you. Like, you aren't sleeping around and f.ucking half the club every night. I feel like a proud dad, actually."

"The dad I never had," I grin, raising my beer to his. He clinked them together and shook his head, still grinning.

"Perrie and I talk about this a lot, really. We were beginning to get concerned about you and your f.ucking habits, and we honestly thought you would never settle down. Everybody knows that that ends horribly, like, you'd probably be alone the rest of your life."

"If you're trying to be sentimental, you're failing miserably," I grumble, but there's still a small smile playing at my lips.

"Right, sorry. Anyway, we like what you've got going with Louis. I've told her everything so far - sorry, I had to - and she wants to meet Louis, actually. We'll just see how your date goes tomorrow, first, though," He chuckles, sending me a cheeky wink.

"It will be nothing less of fantastic, damnit," I say, and I can't help but completely hope that that's true. I want my first date with Louis to be incredible, I want to make him remember it, and I want him to remember me. Even if we don't speak years from now, I want his future boyfriend to ask him "What's your most cherished memory?" and I desperately want him to think of me, to think of what happened on our first date, but I want him to not share it. I want him to keep it to himself, to cherish that memory for his selfish pleasure only. And I want him to answer, "When we first met," even though it's a lie, because he knows damn well that it was his memory with me that he cherishes most.

After that, I think Zayn and I had a few more beers and I headed off to bed, leaving Zayn annoyingly sleeping on the couch. Seriously, his mouth hangs wide open and his snores are loud and obnoxious, not to mention that they're like fifty times worse when he's drunk.

Everything that was said between Zayn and I, every thought that I had, scared the shit out of me. It was like everything completely revolved around Louis and I don't even know why. He invaded my mind, and apparently even invaded Zayn's. I just have to remember never to get drunk around Louis, because I don't think I can keep my feelings - whatever they are - in check.