Expected ~H.S

Preadvice.

"I was serious when I said I didn't want any. I wouldn't have wasted my breath if i'd known it didn't matter."

"C'mon," He pouts. "I need a buddy."

I smile up at him, laughing a little under my breath as I push the offered can away from me. I had already taken a few sips of his beer, I really didn't need anymore. Two insane drunks in one apartment.

Not the best scenario.

The white around around his eyes are a straight giveaway, and giving last weeks events, it's no Surprise he's drunk.

It wasn't a lie that I was starting to regret my choice of staying. I really hadn't had another option, but this defiantly wasn't the luxury vacation I was hoping for.

Sleep was a pointless virtue in this household. People were constantly coming and going- People I didn't even know. I get that I'm not really suppose to know all their friends, being I'd only been at their house an estimated two weeks, total, but one simply does not have that many friends.

I knew exactly what was happening, too. I grew up around it. I remembered the smell like the back of my hand. I didn't quite want to admit it yet, and I didn't because quite frankly, It wasn't any of my business any how.

What goes on inside their house is simply their business.

"Laeeee," He slurs, reaching his hand out to grasp my arm, which lays next to him on the couch.

"Louissss," I mock, smiling when his blue eyes send me daggers.

He huffs before snuggling himself farther into the crisp white couch.

I don't know where the others disappeared too.

As of right now, It is just Louis and i, alone in the flat, sitting in front of the tv, watching some show that neither of us are paying much attention to.

We sit in silence for a while, and I notice myself trying to match my breathing pattern to louis'. His was much more harsh, the reasoning probably being the alcohol.

He had his head draped over my bare lap.

It didn't feel awkward lounging around in my underwear and an oversized shirt. Louis was gay, it was fine.

"I'm so boredddd." Louis exaggerates, sitting up.

Readjusting my self from his departure, I let another tiny giggle roll off my tongue.

He slides down onto the floor, throwing his head against the couch cushions. "I'm hungry," He whines. He turns to look at me. "Make me food."

I stare at him for a moment, squinting my eyes. "Damn, no manners?"

"Sorry," He slurs. "Make me food, please."

I smile at him for a second longer until he ushers me up with his hands.

"Now."

I send him a glare before walking behind the counter to make him a sandwich.

I reach up into the cabinet and grab one of the many hard plastic plates.

I had asked Louis a while back why he didn't use glass dishes, and his answer didn't shock me to say the least. He told me, in all honestly, that he didn't trust himself enough to handle expensive merchandise- Therefor he only used his glass plates and glasses when he had important people over, which was almost never, and I found it ironic that almost everything in his house was expensive.

I finish making the sandwich and walk over to Louis, who was still sitting on the floor, against the white fabric.

He takes the plate from my hand and quickly takes a bite without even noticing what it is.