Make Me Beg ➸ Larry Stylinson

three

Louis POV:

The tires of Liam and Zayn's pickup truck crunch under the gravel beneath the tires as we drive up to the ticket window in the drive-in theatre. I can see a big white screen standing up in the night, with a sea of cars parked into front of it. 

A tall sign with neon lighting is stationed next to the entrance gate Liam's stopped at. The familiar blue and purple neon lighting spells out Tommy's Drive-In in curvy letters. The sign has a white base and I can see a bit of rust dusting the edges, which I didn't remember seeing the last time we went went after Zayn insisted on attending their annual James Bond marathon night.

The three of us have been going to Tommy's since we'd moved in together. The movies were rather cheap since they mostly showed reruns of classics, with the occasional new movie release. Tommy's was on the outskirts of London too; if it was in the heart of London there's no way all of these cars could come and watch the movie. There simply wouldn't be enough space. 

"How many tickets?" A middle-aged man asks with a flat voice, leaning out from the booth. He looks like he'd prefer to be anywhere but here, and has an earbud in one ear as he eyes Liam lazily. Maybe he wants to drown out the misery of being stuck in a 5 foot by 5 foot box handing out little paper stubs all day. 

"Three please," Liam says and the man retreats into the booth to tear off three tickets from a big roll. Zayn digs around in his own pockets for a second before handing Liam ten pounds.

Leaning out the window, Liam hands the man the bill and receives three little red tickets in return. The worker opens a small cash register and I can hear it ding as he rummages through it, counting the proper change before handing it back to us. 

"Enjoy the movie," He says with less enthusiasm than I have when Liam makes me watch golf with him. And I hate golf. 

Liam drives away from the window as a big black SUV pulls up to the window behind us. 

"Make sure you try and get a spot near the middle, babe," Zayn says excitedly and points to a shot about 6 or 7 rows away the screen. "I think there's an empty spot there!"

Liam cranes his neck to take a look before following the path of Zayn's finger to what seems like the ideal parking spot. He drives around the mass of cars, careful not to hit anyone walking around; many of them seem oblivious to oncoming cars and appear lost in conversation with their friends and family.

After a minute or two of slowly rolling past the people, Liam pulls into the empty space between an red, beat-up VW van on the left and a olive-green hatchback on the right. He parks the car, with the bed of our truck facing the aisle between the rows of cars. 

I grab the stack of blankets and outdoor pillows next to be and unlatch the back winder before forcing the items through the window into the bed. Liam and Zayn pile out of the car and I climb into the front seat, exiting the car on the passengers side. 

I slam the car door behind me, not out of anger just out of habit. And possibly to annoy Liam a little extra. You know, just for fun.

"You little shit, how many times do I have to tell you not to slam the door?" I hear him grumble as he walks towards the back of the truck to open the trunk. 

"Oh shut up about you car doors already, your truck isn't so fragile that it'll break or anything just because I close the door," I shoot back with a smirk.

"Louis did you put the blankets in the back?" Zayn asks, looking back at me. 

I nod and he climbs up into the truck bed to see a messy pile of blankets and pillows laying haphazardly beneath the back window. Liam and I hop up onto the truck soon after Zayn lays out the first blanket, a thick and fuzzy blue one, onto the floor.