homeless [l.s.]

10

"zayn, love. i know it hurts, okay? but just try for me, please?"

zayn sniffed, which sent his snot sky-rocketing back up his nose.

"okay." he croaked.

"okay, now one, two, three, blow."

louis wrapped the manky toilet paper around zayn's small nose.

"good job, now-" louis folded the toilet paper over, "-one, two, three, blow."

"daddy, there's no more left! my nose hurts a lot." zayn whined before coughing.

"okay, okay. we're done."

sick children are always a nightmare, especially when you don't have the right equipment for it.

just then, zayn's eyes started to droop.

"love, i-uh, you need to rest."

"no, i don't!" zayn squawked, his eyes shooting back open, "i'm-i'm prefec- i'm perfect fine."

"uh-huh, you- my friend, need some sleep." louis said as he picked zayn up, trying to get him to lay down.

"no i don't!" zayn thrashed around in louis' grasp, but he didn't even move an inch.

louis sighed, "look, if you sleep now, we can go out and get some ice cream, okay? a big, fat, yummy ice cream."

zayn went limp, "okay." he pouted.

louis lay zayn down and started brushing in between his eyes with his index finger lightly, making him drift off to sleep.

louis fished around in his pocket before he pulled out a shabby little flip-phone. (which he was able to buy with the money he had gathered from helping liam, along with a crummy charger.) he flipped the phone open and selected the app "snake".

"imagine how many kids are born every MINUTE."

"zayn," i chuckled, "whatever you're on, i want some."

he ignored me, instead he pulled out his phone.

"250 BABIES?!" he suddenly squeaked, "that's more than, that's more instagram followers that me and you have combined!"

"zayn, neither of us HAVE instagram." i said.

"yeah, that's the point, doofus."

"aha, funny."

i sat back and set my feet up and continued watching f.r.i.e.n.d.s that was aimlessly playing in the background on zayn's ridiculously cool looking t.v.

"..tuchi, tuchi, miss ameri-ghen pie.."

"i don't get this show." zayn said oh-so-suddenly.

"why?" i asked.

"what in the flying fuck does 'tuchi, tuchi' mean?"

i snatched zayn's phone out of his hand, "google says tuchi means clouds."

"yeah but the song goes 'BYE, BYE, miss american pie, not clouds, clouds." zayn replied in a mockingly tone.

before i could answer, he started rambling again, as per usual.

"and, AND! i feel bad for that gunther guy,-"