Sea of coarse water ❥

Cleopatra

When he's standing there looking out to the sea of people, and his hair is long down his back, his body lithe and limber as he moves toward the crowd, reaching his arm out, stretching, turning his palm upward, as though he's asking them to rise.. It's no surprise that they do. The masses before him lift their voices to the flick of his little finger, and I think to myself; 'why can't I do the same?' I'm wrapped around him more than they are.. I know I am.

He turns to me and points, asks me what I think, and I lose what I need to say, stumbling again on my words, and it's not the first time this has happened.. No.. It happens all the time. Every damn day, Harry Styles. Every damn day.

🌙

"What to do when you tell a joke, and no one laughs?" He asks, while leaning on a fold out table, one hand resting there, the other in the air, his palm flat and balancing a ripe peach, he'd scored it from the fruit bowl, as he often does post show. Fruit first, then prosciutto, then cheese, then bread. I know his snack board menu.. I know his fast food menu.. I know his fine dining menu.. I know how he likes his toast in t-

"Zaynie! Have some soda mate. If you don't want beer, make it ginger, yeah?"

Liam is suddenly beside me, pressing up against my frame, pressing a cold glass bottle into my hand, the lid already uncapped, the steam of bubbles tickling my nose.

"Ah! Yeah. Thanks Li. I always forget you have my best interests in mind." I bump my shoulder against his, grateful, and he smiles, his soft eyes squinting like they always do.

"You need to eat too. Bug rolls, pulled pork, coleslaw? That's what's happening tonight at Andy's? You coming? You gotta come."

Liam always does this. Asks a question, then makes the decision for you, but today like many days, I'm impatient to get to the peace and serenity of my hotel suite. "Ugh, nah mate.. You all go, have fun. I'm knackered." I try to use my voice as a force field, though I reach up to run my fingers through my hair at the same time, and that seems to be the undoing.

"This is why I'm telling you mate." Liam begins, his thick brows knotting together in a frown. "Like what we talked about the other day, yeah? You gotta get out of your head for a sec. Just with us. I won't leave your side, you know."

I couldn't help but chuckle under my breath, my heart tearing at the seams, for the consistent loyalty that was Liam's friendship. "You don't have to look after me Li." I smirk at him, and bring my hand from my hair, to rest in his instead, rustling the stiff waves, dislodging the gel that had held it tight during the concert. "I'm not Niall.." It comes out shorter than I'd intended it to, and I can tell Liam is losing hope.

"I know what will get you out." Liam extends his arm, pointing across the room, to the edge where Louis is leaning against a wall, fiddling with a lighter, and clutching a scrapped piece of paper beside it. "That man, is getting a new tattoo, and he thinks you should too!" Suddenly, his hands are swift on my back, shoving me across the floor, my feet stumbling, but nonetheless, leading me toward the eldest.. The mad hatter.

Louis peers up to me, just as a puff of smoke leaves his lips, hitting me square in the face, and I'm cursing at him, and he's cursing back, pulling me from 'Daddy,' and telling the younger lad to 'foock off,' though his mouth is turned in a friendly smirk.. as it always is.

"Getting crossbones, here." Louis holds up his left arm, letting the rumpled piece of paper fall to the ground, and he's kicking it away. "Was drawing it out. But yeah, right here." He taps his wrist, then looks to me, as though he wants my opinion.