you are half of me (and I am all for you) - larry stylinson

three

The novelty of van life had completely worn off after an entire week on the road.

It was still magical, but in a more realistic sort of way. Louis didn't dread the long hours in the car each day, because he enjoyed listening to wacky playlists of the most obscure music Harry could find. He enjoyed their chaotic gas station stops for snacks and bathroom breaks. The silly conversations that made their stomachs sore from laughter. The scenery that changed with each state. The hopeful view of the everlasting road stretching out in front of them, beckoning them forward.

It was hard, though. They fought a lot, as four people trapped in a van for a week would. They argued over where and when to stop, they argued over who was driving and who was navigating, there argued over the arrangement in which they slept. At one point Harry got so mad, he didn't talk to any of them for six hours.

He finally broke when Stevie Nicks' "Edge of Seventeen" came on the radio—because he was too mad to plug his phone to the aux cord—and he asked Niall to turn it up. Louis just smirked and sang along, glad Harry was done with brooding for the time being, at least. He had missed his ridiculous commentary about the cows chewing grass along the side of the road, or the crucial difference between multigrain and wholegrain bread.

"Okay, literally, all of you stink. Like, please, open the windows more. I'm going to die back here," he was saying, officially over his strop but still moody enough to insult them all.

"You smell bad too," Liam pointed out from the driver's seat, rolling down the windows anyway. "We all smell bad."

"I do not!"

"What, you somehow showered in the past seventy-two hours without any of us knowing?"

Louis was navigating today, although he didn't have to do much because they were going to be on this same highway for at least three more hours. He turned around in his seat as best as he could with the seatbelt still on, to face Niall and Harry in the backseat, surrounded by all of their instruments and equipment. It was quite cramped back there, but the backseat also liberated them from any driving or navigating duties.

He leveled Harry with a stare, raising his brows at him as if to emphasize Liam's words.

"I smell good," he argued, crossing his arms over his chest. The position put his biceps on display, crafted from months of boxing with Liam, and Louis had to look away.

"Whatever you say," he muttered, but the conversation sparked an idea.

They had gone three days without showering, which was gross enough on its own, with the added factor being that they sweat a lot each night while performing. The last time they showered was in Memphis, when they parked at a rest stop on the side of the road and paid for showering vouchers. The showers had been run down and quite the opposite of luxury, but they really weren't picky when the question wasn't nice shower or gross shower, but rather, gross shower or no shower.

The Texas ecology was quickly changing from average greenery to desertland warmed in the sun. They had been driving on this highway for a while, passing road signs with directions to different sights and tourist attractions. Louis kept his eyes peeled until he saw what he was looking for.

"Take the next exit, please."

"What? Why?"

"Just trust me."

Liam bit his lip nervously but followed Louis' instructions. Meanwhile, Louis stole Harry's square-framed tortoiseshell shades right from his hands, ignoring his protests, and put them on so he no longer had to squint in the sun. He let his hand rest out the wide open window, enjoying the breeze flowing between his fingers and rushing into the car.