For your eyes only - l.s

Chapter Eight

The wedding is huge. A gigantic white pavilion is set up in the garden, with music and fairy lights. In the backyard, a tent contains a dance floor and also seems to be the main source of food and alcohol. The living room and the terrace have been connected by opening the glass doors, which lead out into the garden. Masses of guests are flowing back and forth, laughing, drinking and playing weird wedding games.

When Louis and Zayn stepped out of the taxi earlier, nobody even noticed their arrival. During their discovery tour, Louis somehow lost Zayn in the crowd and is now standing awkwardly on one side of the pavilion. This has indeed been the worst idea ever. He needs alcohol.

He starts strolling over to the tent and slowly moves through the masses of people. He finally finds the buffet and grabs one of the glasses with cream white liquid, sparkling wine or champagne or whatever it is.

Just before he can lift it to his mouth, he sees someone make a hectic move in the corner of his eye. The person must have slipped and before Louis can even react, he feels a cold wave of liquid splash over his face. He is paralysed for a moment before he can process that someone has just spilled their drink on him.

The other person babbles a hiccupped sssorry before disappearing in the crowd. Louis can feel a drop forming on the tip of his nose and licks it with his tongue. Not bad. A tap on his arm nearly startles him to death and he spins around on his heels. Zayn's facial expressions turns from worry to confusion and then to amusement.

"What happened to you?"

"Sex on the beach," Louis replies, shrugging.

Zayn lets out a laugh and shakes his head. He takes the glass from Louis hands and places it back on the counter.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he chuckles and grips Louis' sleeve. He pulls him towards the house, looking for a bathroom.

They find one after the third door they try, and Zayn leads Louis inside.

"Give me your shirt, he demands and holds out his hand.

Louis hesitates for a moment but eventually obliges. He loosens his tie and drops it carelessly to the ground, followed by his jacket. He unbuttons his shirt and hands it to Zayn.

He receives a wet face cloth in return and starts to wipe the sticky drink from his skin. Zayn somehow tries to clean his shirt as carefully as possible with another cloth. Louis has no idea how he manages it, but it actually looks a little better in the end.

He waves it around in the air to dry it, but of course it doesn't help much. Louis is tired of standing here half-nakedly and eventually grabs the shirt back from Zayn's grip. With his hands shaking slightly from the alcohol, he makes an attempt to button it up but needs ages to get the first one into the right whole.

"If you're going on like this, we'll still be standing her tomorrow," Zayn points out after a while.

"Then you should better help me than stand around uselessly," Louis retorts with a groan.

Zayn rolls his eyes and positions himself in front of Louis, leaning down a little and grabbing hold of the shirt. In this very moment, the door flies open and a person stumbles inside. Zayn and Louis shoot apart. The man freezes as his eyes land on the scene before him, quickly scanning the room with his emerald green orbs.

"O-Oh, um, s-sorry," he stutters with an embarrassed expression on his face and moves backwards out of the room again, nearly tripping over his own feet.

Louis feels like he was hit by a bus. One of those typical London double-decker buses. At full speed.

"Umm... what was that?" Zayn carefully dares to ask after a moment. Louis is brought back to reality, but his mind remains by these eyes that he only knows too well. He has no idea how he was able to see their colour beyond that distance. Maybe it was only his imagination.