Never Knew I Needed - Larry Stylinson AU

Chapter 8

[A/N]: WOOO! I like how I'm gradually growing readers :D And you guys are commenting! I love it when people comment! It makes me feel so warm and fuzzy inside and makes me want to SING. Sing songs about joy and love. And I'm sorry for the long wait! I've started school! So it'll probably be like this a lot of the time! But I'm going to try, I really am! Just bear with me yeah? ANYWAY... lets move on to chapter 8.... Indeed. Psst. It's still Louis' P.O.V.

After dinner, around 9PMish, I was cheated into washing the dishes. No one else wanted to do it, so Niall proclaimed that whoever wasn't wearing socks had to do the washing up. Well guess who never wears socks? Niall has always been a sly leprechaun... So I ended up standing in the kitchen staring down at the pile of dishes everyone had put into the sink.

"I don't want to do this!" I wailed.

"Louis! If you would stop whining about it and actually do it, you'd be halfway done by now," Liam sighed.

"No," I huffed. "I'll be washing these things all night."

"I'll help you Louis!" Harry bounded back into the kitchen cheerfully.

"Thank you, Curly!" I beamed at him. "See? Curly's helpful, unlike you losers."

"Harry, don't help the bum out," Liam laughed. "You've washed the dishes twice in a row now."

"I don't mind," Harry insisted as he reached past me to flick the faucet on and fill up the opposite side of the sink.

"If he wants to be helpful let him be helpful!" I snapped at Liam before turning to the younger boy. "I have a quest for you Curly. Find a dishtowel. You're gonna be the dish dryer."

Harry saluted me playfully before dashing around the kitchen and pointing at random drawers, "Hot or cold?"

"Cold," I smirked as his hand hovered inches from the drawer where we kept our keys and wallets.

He peered around the room thoughtfully, "Is it even in the kitchen?"

"Unfair question! Don't cheat!" I bellowed.

"Hot or cold?" his voice shot up several octaves as he begin opening and closing drawers and cabinets rapidly.

"Cold!" I sang out joyfully.

The other lads sat in the living room chuckling at our game. It was evident Harry was growing frustrated with himself, but he wasn't giving in. He froze as he opened the last drawer to find nothing and knotted his fingers into his curls.

"Don't tell me!" he yelped before I had the chance to say anything.

"Like I would let you off that easy!" I scoffed.

He made a slightly distressed sound, "Are they in the kitchen, though?"

"Yes, yes they are," I grinned.

His eyes widened and wandered back into the kitchen, searching the counter as if they'd be right in front of his eyes. He approached the counter by the refrigerator.

"Hot or cold?" he said almost miserably.

"You're actually rather toasty, Curls!" I let my eyes flicker from his face and onto the fridge.

He followed my gaze and gasped. It was clear he'd seen the neat stack of dishtowels sitting on top of the fridge. He was instantly leaping to grab one, and he pulled about half the stack down in his rush to snatch one up. A small yelp escaped him as the pieces of fabric toppled onto his head. He sheepishly handed me the dishtowel he held in his hand, and I couldn't help but burst into laughter. I gingerly picked off the dishtowels that rested on his shoulders and head.