There is a giant wet lump of blankets next to Liam when Louis opens the door. He narrows his eyes suspiciously. “You’re not doing your laundry here anymore,” he says, eyeing the patchwork mountain that’s taller than Liam himself. “I don’t care if all your clothes end up pink, it took me a month to get rid of the dog hair last time.” Liam barks a little laugh and scratches at the back of his neck. He shuffles from one foot to the other, overly casual. “Why are you acting so shifty?” Louis asks, instinctively closing the door a little as if standing in the way isn’t already enough.
“Yeah, about that…” Liam starts with a forced chuckle. “Funny story—“
“What the fuck.”
The blankets next to Liam shift again. Louis only just resists the urge to clutch at his chest dramatically; he grips the doorjamb and watches closely as a tiny opening appears at the top of the pile. He feels like one of those dumb kids in American horrors, curious about what he’ll find if he reaches out even though his heart is beating like crazy. He half expects some sort of monster to jump out at him. If this is a prank, it’s either a very good or a very bad one; he can’t decide until he sees it play out in its entirety. He turns to Liam again.
“I, um. I found him. When I was taking out the rubbish.”
Louis frowns. “You found him where?” Then it hits him. “Wait, him?”
The blankets move again, folding in a little at the top like a cocoon closing up. Now that Louis is paying attention he can see that they’re less of a shapeless lump and more of a bundle around something, or apparently someone, vertical. They’re also shaking a little and twist away when Liam touches them.
“It’s okay, I told you,” Liam says soothingly, taking his hand back and stepping a little closer to the blankets instead. “You can trust Louis.”
Louis crosses his arms over his chest, strangely defensive over his dishonour being called into question. “No, don’t trust Louis, that is a terrible idea. He will draw on your face while you sleep and glue your shoes together.”
“And talk about himself in third person,” Liam adds. The pile of blankets makes a sound that could be a snort or a sneeze, it’s hard to tell. It shifts around a little, falling open at the top again. A fluffy brown ear pops out. It twitches once, then disappears again.
“Liam,” Louis says slowly and as neutrally as he can. “Did you bring me a cat?” The blankets shuffle a little, a soft whining sound escaping them. Louis must be projecting something awful because he almost apologises to them. He should also really stop thinking of what is now obviously a person as a lumpy mountain of blankets.
“Louis,” Liam replies, mocking his tone. “Technically, he’s more human than cat.” Louis levels him with his best don’t bullshit me look. He has no idea how well it works because it’s also his first and only don’t bullshit me look. Really, he’s just trying to imitate Liam’s face. Liam huffs. “Look, I have no one else to take him to. Now, will you let us in?”
“No! I just managed to get rid of Zayn, I’m not looking for roommates. You take him.” The blankets whimper pitifully. Louis tries not to feel guilty or be endeared. He knows he’s fighting a losing battle because he still hasn’t slammed the door in Liam’s face.
“I would! But you know I have dogs. And Niall. He has to count for at least two dogs.”
Louis sighs. The first thing he did when he got his first real paycheck a few months ago was to find his own flat and move out of the one Liam now shares only with Niall, Zayn having (mostly) moved in with Gigi. It had been almost four years of them living together by then, four years of the four of them cramped in a flat that was meant for two, of petty arguments about whose turn it was to get the groceries or pay the bills or clean the kitchen, of always waiting for somebody to be done with the bathroom, of walking in on things they could’ve lived their whole lives without seeing. It wasn’t all bad, they’d certainly had some good times, but Louis was still glad to finally get out of there and have a place all to himself. He had about a week of looking forward to the only repercussions to forgetting something being getting annoyed with himself when Zayn decided their flat was too far away from the club they’d gone out to one night and slept on Louis’ new pull-out. One night turned to three, to five, to three months. It was almost nostalgic for a while, Liam and Niall coming over sometimes, always having somebody around to talk to, even finding his food half-eaten or gone. He eventually drew the line at seeing Gigi’s tits before his morning tea.
