The Fatal Flaw | LT

X

September

"To Venus!" The toast echoed through the bar, voices overlapping in a chorus of celebration. Glasses clinked together, and soon enough, almost everyone was drunk beyond reason. The table was crowded with half-empty glasses, bottles, and scattered shot glasses, evidence of a night well spent. Laughter rang through the air, blending with the low hum of music in the background. Niall had his arm draped loosely around my shoulders, his body warm against mine as I chuckled at one of the guys' jokes.

"You two are adorable! How long have you been dating?" Danielle, Liam's girlfriend, asked with a knowing smile.

"Oh, no, we're not together," Niall clarified instantly, his tone light, but firm. "She's my best friend."

"He gets really protective sometimes," I added with a smirk, nudging him playfully.

"As he should," Zayn chimed in, swirling the drink in his glass. "If I were your best friend, I'd be protective too." Liam nodded in agreement, his eyes slightly glazed from the alcohol.

By 11, nearly everyone was hammered—everyone except Louis and me. He sat at the edge of the group, quiet and distant, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his glass. He hadn't said much all night, nor had he drunk much. I noticed, but I didn't ask. I was afraid I'd say something stupid, like how ridiculously good he looked in that denim jacket and white shirt.

At some point, Perrie perched a pink paper crown on my head and declared, "Smile!" before the flash of her camera lit up the dim bar. She turned the screen towards us, giggling. In the photo, Louis and I were both caught off guard—me with an exaggerated grin showing my teeth, and him with wide eyes, mid-sip from his drink. I wanted to ask her to send it to me, but before I could, Niall nearly toppled off his chair, drunk beyond words. I sighed, taking it as my cue to leave.

"We have to go," I told Perrie, gesturing toward a drowsy, barely-conscious Niall leaning heavily against me.

"I'll come with you," Louis said, standing up as well.

Liam and Zayn mumbled their goodbyes, and the girls shot us apologetic smiles, as if suddenly sobering up now that their boyfriends needed them.

With Niall's left arm slung over my shoulder and Louis supporting his right, we half-dragged, half-carried him toward my car. The Irish idiot was heavier than he looked, and each step felt like a struggle.

"What about your car?" I asked Louis as he helped pile Niall into the passenger seat.

"I didn't bring one. Liam drove us here," he replied simply, adjusting his jacket. I nodded and turned the key in the ignition, the engine humming to life.

"You're dropping him off at his dorm?" Louis asked after a beat of silence.

"Nope," I said, glancing at Niall, whose head had already lolled to the side. "He forgot his key, and I don't want to wake his roommate. He's staying at my place."

"Oh." Louis's response was quiet, almost contemplative.

The car filled with silence, save for the low hum of the engine and the occasional rustling of Niall shifting in his seat. Something about the night felt different—charged, almost. But I wasn't sure if it was the alcohol in everyone else's system or the way Louis had been looking at me all night without saying a word.

I drove in silence, my hands gripping the wheel as the city lights flickered past. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Louis glancing at me. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but then hesitated, closing it again. He did this a few times, and though I noticed, I chose to ignore it. If he wanted to talk, he would. I wasn't about to force it out of him.