By Another Name

Chapter 23

AL

The first time I woke up, the room was dark and cool and I smelled gummy bears and shampoo. I barely registered a wiry arm around me and a soft quiet voice speaking patiently into a phone. 

The second time I awoke, I could detect that light was streaming through the crack between the heavy hotel curtains. I was aware slowly that my head was resting on a compact and muscular lap, and I smacked my lips with the thirst of someone waking up from a very bad dream, maybe a coma. I was that person, I'd had that dream last night.

A single image of red hair floated through my mind, and I cracked and tried to cry but my energy and my strength were gone so I only choked a bit.

"Water?" Zayn asked me, stroking my hair. "Here Aislinn, drink" he said, and sat me up as best he could with a water bottle in my hand. "Jet lag not helping, yea?" I tried to motion agreement. My eyes squinted and the bed jiggled a bit as he got up to crack the window more.

"Zayn," I managed, and he turned. "Zayn, I love him so much," and I had no idea what to do. "Tell me what to do."

"Does he know?" Zayn said.

"Of course he..." I began but Zayn sat back onto the bed and put a hand along my cheek.

"Does he?" he asked me again.

"I am not to blame that he has done this, I've been faithful. I've been desirable," shaky breaths made it hard for me to string a sentence together. "I've given him something to want."

"Does he know though?" Zayn was insistent "Maybe he's tired, Aislinn. Maybe he wants something he can actually have now."

I grabbed his wrist and threw his hand off me. "Fuck you!" I said, as angry as I could manage, exhausted and hungry and alarmed and scared as I was.

"You need to sort this out. If you want someone to hold your hand doing it, look to Harry, not me," Zayn sighed. His eyes were bright and rested, and he didn't look away from me. "If you want Louis, he's yours and you know it. But you need to make him understand, no one else can do that." And with that he picked himself up off the bed and went for the door.

"Zayn, wait," I whispered. He turned. "Is she gone, is she here...what's going on?"

"Stop feeling sorry and catch up," he said. Zayn was beautiful, and he was harsh, and I hated that he was making sense. I wanted to wallow, and flail, and cry. I wanted to be angry and lost. I didn't want this. "Someone's already lost their job over this, and that's your shit, yours and his together." And with that he opened the door and light shown in from the hallway. He walked away with the door standing open, a silent demand.

___________

LOUIS

The first time I woke up, the room was dark and cool, and I smelled Chinese food and cologne. I barely registered a sturdy arm around me and a quick quiet voice speaking patiently into a phone. 

The second time I awoke, I could detect that light was streaming through the crack between the heavy hotel curtains. I was aware slowly that my head was resting on a solid and muscular lap, and I smacked my lips with the thirst of someone waking up from a very bad dream, maybe a coma. I was that person, I'd had that dream for three days now.

A single image of red hair floated through my mind, and I cracked and tried to cry but my energy and my strength were gone so I only choked a bit. Suddenly, I was being pushed off the lap, and the bed began to bounce violently. "What a fucking mess, TOMMO!" Liam practically yelled while using the bed as a trampoline.

"God shut up, Liam! Step off! Get me some fooking tea, please God! " I said, trying to lick my lips.

"Right then," he said tromping down of the bed in one step and careening towards the kettle. "You'd do well to get to cleaning yourself up. Have you completely lost the plot? What is this all about?" He continued to hammer me in his brilliant speed-staccato with questions and a right attitude while making my tea, and practically slung it at me in the end. It was poorly made, to be honest, but I needed to clear my head, so I sipped desperately.